Blog da Militia Sanctæ Mariæ - Cavaleiros de Nossa Senhora um instrumento na evangelização do mundo contemporâneo // Blog created by Militia Sanctæ Mariæ, whose purpose is to be an instrument in the evangelization of the contemporary world // Blog de la Militia Sanctæ Mariæ et dont le but est d'être un instrument dans l'évangélisation du monde contemporain // Blog der Militia Sanctæ Mariæ, die sich zum Ziel gesetzt haben, ein Werkzeug bei der Evangelisierung der heutigen Welt zu sein
Je voudrais à ce sujet vous parler d'une conversion célèbre qui eut lieu dans les années Quatre-vingt du siècle dernier, celle de Lee Strobel. Lee Strobel était un journaliste américain du Chicago Tribune. Il était complètement athée, ne voulant croire qu'à ce qu'il voyait. Or, à un moment donné, sa femme, qu'il aimait beaucoup, se convertit à la foi chrétienne et cette conversion mit sérieusement en péril la paix du ménage.
Pour ramener sa femme à la raison, Lee Strobel, durant deux ans, se livra à une enquête minutieuse sur la résurrection de Jésus, afin de démontrer que celle-ci était un mythe qui n'avait jamais eu lieu. Mais ce fut le contraire qui se produisit.
Après avoir interrogé des scientifiques des plus renommés, historiens, archéologues, spécialistes des manuscrits les plus anciens du Nouveau Testament, psychologues, médecins, et que sais-je encore, Lee Strobel arriva à la conclusion que Jésus était vraiment mort sur la croix, qu'il avait été mis au tombeau, et qu'ensuite de nombreux témoins l'avaient revu pleinement vivant, ressuscité, témoins absolument dignes de foi et qui ont préféré subir le martyre, plutôt que de renier leur conviction fondamentale: Jésus est le Fils de Dieu, notre Sauveur, et il est vivant à jamais.
Lee Strobel adhéra à la foi, se réconcilia avec sa femme, et devint pasteur protestant. Et toute sa conversion tient à cela: la résurrection de Jésus est un fait historique, démontré et irréfutable.
Ainsi donc toute notre foi est basée sur cet événement central de l'histoire: Jésus est ressuscité des morts. Jésus est Dieu et toute notre vie doit se bâtir sur la foi en Jésus ressuscité. Mais cette foi ne contredit pas notre raison, car nous avons assez d'éléments pour être certains que cet événement de la résurrection du Christ est fortement attesté.
En ce temps pascal, méditons le cœur-même de notre foi: Le Seigneur nous aime tous, chacun en particulier, d'un amour éternel. Pour chacun de nous, il a assumé notre condition humaine. Il a souffert la passion et la mort de la croix, pour le rachat de nos péchés. Il a été mis au tombeau et le matin de Pâques, il est ressuscité glorieux, pour nous donner la vie éternelle. Et dans l'eucharistie, sacrement de son amour, il nous communique les fruits de sa passion et de sa résurrection. Gloire à lui qui est vivant pour les siècles!
Começando por Moisés e passando pelos Profetas, Jesus explicou-lhes em todas as Escrituras o que Lhe dizia respeito. Ao chegarem perto da povoação para onde iam, Jesus fez menção de ir para diante. Mas eles convenceram-n’O a ficar, dizendo: «Ficai connosco, porque o dia está a terminar e vem caindo a noite». Jesus entrou e ficou com eles. E quando Se pôs à mesa, tomou o pão, recitou a bênção, partiu-o e entregou-lho. Nesse momento abriram-se-lhes os olhos e reconheceram-n’O. Mas Ele desapareceu da sua presença. Disseram então um para o outro: «Não ardia cá dentro o nosso coração, quando Ele nos falava pelo caminho e nos explicava as Escrituras?». Partiram imediatamente de regresso a Jerusalém e encontraram reunidos os Onze e os que estavam com eles, que diziam: «Na verdade, o Senhor ressuscitou e apareceu a Simão». E eles contaram o que tinha acontecido no caminho e como O tinham reconhecido ao partir o pão.
Gosto de falar de caminho, porque somos viandantes, dirigimo-nos para a casa do Céu, para a nossa Pátria. Mas reparemos que um caminho, embora possa apresentar trechos de dificuldades especiais, embora vez por outra nos obrigue a vadear um rio ou a atravessar um pequeno bosque quase impenetrável, habitualmente é coisa correntia, sem surpresas. O perigo é a rotina: imaginar que Deus está ausente das coisas de cada instante por serem tão simples, tão triviais!
Caminhavam aqueles dois discípulos em direção a Emaús. Andavam a passo normal, como tantos outros que transitavam por aquelas paragens. E ali, com naturalidade, aparece-lhes Jesus, e caminha com eles, numa conversa que diminui a fadiga. Imagino a cena, bem ao cair da tarde. Sopra uma brisa suave. Em redor, campos semeados de trigo já crescido, e as oliveiras velhas, com os ramos prateados à luz tíbia.
Jesus, no caminho. Senhor, és sempre tão grande! Mas Tu me comoves quando te abaixas a seguir-nos, a procurar-nos, na nossa diária roda-viva. Senhor, concede-nos a ingenuidade de espírito, o olhar límpido, a cabeça clara, que permitam entender-te quando vens sem nenhum sinal externo da tua glória.
Termina o trajeto ao chegarem à aldeia, e aqueles dois que - sem darem por isso - foram feridos no fundo do coração pela palavra e pelo amor do Deus feito homem, sentem que Ele se vá embora. Porque Jesus se despede com gesto de quem vai prosseguir. Nunca se impõe, este Senhor nosso. Quer que o chamemos livremente, depois de entrevermos a pureza do Amor que nos meteu na alma. Temos que detê-lo à força e rogar-lhe: «Fica conosco, porque é tarde e o dia está já declinando, faz-se noite.»
Somos assim: sempre pouco atrevidos, talvez por insinceridade, talvez por pudor. No fundo, pensamos: «Fica conosco, porque as trevas nos rodeiam a alma, e só Tu és luz, só Tu podes acalmar esta ânsia que nos consome.» Porque dentre as coisas formosas, honestas, não ignoramos qual é a primeira: possuir sempre a Deus.
E Jesus fica. Abrem-se os nossos olhos como os de Cléofas e seu companheiro, quando Cristo parte o pão; e embora Ele volte a desaparecer da nossa vista, seremos também capazes de retomar a caminhada - anoitece -, para falar dEle aos outros, pois não cabe num peito só tanta alegria.
Caminho de Emaús. O nosso Deus impregnou de doçura este nome. E Emaús é o mundo inteiro, porque o Senhor abriu os caminhos divinos da terra.
Peço ao Senhor que, durante a nossa permanência neste chão que pisamos, não nos afastemos nunca do Caminhante divino. Para tanto, aumentemos também a nossa amizade com os Santos Anjos da Guarda. Todos necessitamos de muita companhia: companhia do Céu e da terra. Sejamos devotos dos Santos Anjos! É muito humana a amizade, mas é também muito divina; tal como a nossa vida, que é divina e humana. Lembramo-nos do que diz o Senhor? «Já não vos chamo servos, mas amigos.» Ensina-nos a ter confiança com os amigos de Deus, que já moram no Céu, e com as criaturas que convivem connosco, incluídas as que parecem afastadas do Senhor, para as atrairmos ao bom caminho.
E vou terminar, repetindo com São Paulo aos Colossenses: «Não cessamos de orar por vós e de pedir a Deus que alcanceis pleno conhecimento da sua vontade, com toda a sabedoria e inteligência espiritual. Sabedoria que nos proporcionam a oração, a contemplação, a efusão do Paráclito na alma. A fim de que tenhais uma conduta digna de Deus, agradando-lhe em tudo, produzindo frutos de toda a espécie de obras boas e progredindo na ciência de Deus; corroborados em toda a sorte de fortaleza pelo poder da sua graça, para terdes sempre uma perfeita paciência e longanimidade acompanhada de alegria; dando graças a Deus Pai, que nos fez dignos de participar da sorte dos santos, iluminando-nos com a sua luz; que nos arrebatou ao poder das trevas e nos transferiu para o reino do seu Filho muito amado.»
Que a Mãe de Deus e Mãe nossa nos proteja, a fim de que cada um de nós possa servir a Igreja na plenitude da fé, com os dons do Espírito Santo e com a vida contemplativa. Realizando cada qual os deveres que lhe são próprios, cada um no seu ofício e profissão, e no cumprimento das obrigações do seu estado, honre gozosamente o Senhor.
Amai a Igreja, servi-a com a alegria consciente de quem soube decidir-se a esse serviço por Amor. E se virmos que alguns andam sem esperança, como os dois de Emaús, aproximemo-nos deles com fé - não em nome próprio, mas em nome de Cristo -, para lhes garantir que a promessa de Jesus não pode falhar, que Ele vela pela sua Esposa sempre: que não a abandona; que passarão as trevas, porque somos filhos da luz e fomos chamados a uma vida perdurável.
«E Deus lhes enxugará todas as lágrimas dos olhos, já não haverá morte, nem pranto nem clamor; não mais haverá dor, porque as coisas de antes passaram. E disse Aquele que estava sentado no trono: Eis que renovo todas as coisas. E ordenou-me: Escreve, porque todas estas palavras são digníssimas de fé e verdadeiras. E acrescentou: Amen, amen. Eu sou o Alfa e o Ômega, o princípio e o fim. Ao sedento, eu lhe darei de beber gratuitamente da fonte da água da vida. Aquele que vencer possuirá todas estas coisas, e eu serei o seu Deus e ele será meu filho.»
Today we reproduce an article by Mr. Peter Kwasniewski, originally published one month ago in the New Liturgical Movement page. It verses about liturgial symbols of the presence of God through fire, its' biblical origins and scholastic interpretations.
«
As a layman in the pews, I often find myself wondering why the clergy do not preach more often on the symbolic meaning of the rites, gestures, and objects of the liturgy, not to mention the texts (especially the Propers of the Mass — in those fortunate places that utilize the Propers). Since the liturgy is the most obvious common object of perception and meditation for everyone present, it seems both useful and decorous to preach in such a way that the faithful may be led into a deeper understanding of what they are seeing and doing. Admittedly, this could get heavy-handed and risk didactic overload, but at least some of the content of a given liturgy could be brought in — I’m referring here not to the readings, which are what get the lion’s share of attention, but the other elements of the liturgy that take place around the readings, as it were. A sign that this is fair game can be seen in the remarkable amount of patristic and medieval preaching that concerns itself with unpacking the meaning of the liturgy for the faithful.
A good opportunity is rapidly approaching: I refer to the great Easter Vigil with its kindling of the new fire and the lighting of the Paschal candle. We have probably all heard some reference in homilies to fire and light, but it seems to get stuck in generalities, which have the effectiveness of clichés. Why not follow in the footsteps of St. Thomas Aquinas and ponder the deep symbolism behind fire — particularly, the reasons why God Himself is compared with fire? In his Scripture commentaries, the Angelic Doctor frequently comments on why God and His action are compared with fire.
At Super Isaiam 33, three reasons are given: fire purges, sets other things aflame, and condemns.
At Super Hebraeos 12, lec. 5, where fire is said to have, among sensible things, more nobility, more brightness, more activity, more altitude, and more purifying and consuming power.
At Super Isaiam 30, five reasons are given for symbolizing charity as fire: it illuminates, boils up or heats [exestuat], turns things towards itself, makes one ready to act, and draws upwards.
Super Ieremiam 5 gives five reasons why the word of the Lord is said to be a fire: it illuminates, sets aflame, penetrates, melts, and consumes the disobedient.
Such descriptions of fire frequently parallel Thomas’s discussions of the effects of love. For example, in both Scriptum super Sent. III.27.1.1 ad 4 and Summa theologiae I-II.28.5, Thomas speaks of the way in which intense love causes fervor or burning, how it melts or “liquifies” the heart, and how it makes the lover penetrate into the inmost recesses of the beloved. This, indeed, is why extasis or ecstasy (for Aquinas, one of the many effects of love) is so aptly compared with fire, which seems to be ever rising up above itself and disappearing into the air, always tending outwards and upwards. Thomas charmingly notes that it is the custom of lovers to be unable to keep their love silent, but it bursts forth from them because its flames cannot be contained under their breast.[1] And elsewhere: “Burning comes from an abundance of heat; hence the Spirit is called burning, because, owing to an abundance of divine love, the whole man burns up into God.”[2]
The most ample comment on the symbolism of fire for God comes from Thomas's Commentary on Isaiah, chapter 10:
«Take note on those words, and He will be a light to Israel in fire, that our God is called ‘fire’ [for four reasons]. First of all, because it is subtle; and regarding this He is called subtle, [first] as regards substance, for He is called spirit. Jn. 4: “God is spirit.” Secondly, as regards knowledge, because He is capable of penetrating. Heb. 4: “The word of the Lord is alive and active, more penetrating than any sword.” Thirdly, as regards appearance, because He is invisible. Job 28: “Whence therefore [is your] wisdom?”, and the same below: “It is hidden from the eyes of all the living.” Or Job 36: “All men [see him, every one beholds from far off],” etc.
The second reason is that it is bright. Now, that He is bright is evident first from the fact that He makes something manifest to the intellect. Ps. 35: “In your light we shall see light.” Secondly, because He delights the affection. Tob. 5: “what kind of joy is there for me, for I sit in darkness and I do not see the light of heaven?” Thirdly, because He directs one’s acts. Below, c. 60: “The nations shall walk in your light, and the kings in the splendor of your rising.”
The third reason is that it is hot; and this, first, because He vivifies. Job 39: “you perhaps will warm them in the dust?” Lam. 1: “From above He has sent fire into my bones and has chastised me.” Secondly, because He cleanses. Eccl. 38: “the vapor of the fire wastes his flesh, and He fights with the heat of the furnace.” Thirdly, because He devastates. Dt. 32: “A fire is kindled in my wrath, and shall burn even to the lowest hell.”
The fourth reason is that it is light; and this, first, on account of motion [towards the end], because “the Lord made everything for the sake of Himself” (Prov. 16). Secondly, on account of His place, because “He dwells in the heights” (Ps. 112). Thirdly, because of His mode of unmixedness. Wis. 7: “[for wisdom is more active than all active things] and reaches everywhere by reason of her purity, for she is a vapor of the power of God [and a certain pure emanation of the glory of the almighty God, and therefore no defiled thing comes into her].”[3]»
It is good to be reminded again, through such exquisite texts that demonstrate an Augustinian mastery of exegesis and lay out for us a feast of mutually illuminating cross-references, that the Angelic Doctor was, and saw himself as, primarily a commentator on Scripture, a Magister Sacrae Paginae, a teacher of the sacred page. The rest of his eminent intellectual activities flowed from the systematized lectio divina of the schools. This may also suggest a kind of reconciliation between preaching on the lectionary and preaching on the liturgical rites and symbols. In the end, those rites and symbols are themselves rooted in Scripture, and Scripture, in turn, is powerfully illustrated and enacted by them. Expounding the meaning of the liturgy is therefore not opposed to reflecting on the readings but is the essential context for it.
Exultai de alegria, cantai hinos de glória. Dai graças a Deus, que vos chamou ao reino eterno. Aleluia. (4 Esd 2, 36-37)
[motete de Francis Poulenc (séc. XX) sobre o Salmo 80]
Da Primeira Epístola de S. Pedro (Capítulo 2) Portanto, ponde de parte toda a malícia, falsidades, hipocrisias, invejas e toda a espécie de maledicências; como crianças recém-nascidas, ansiai pelo leite espiritual, não adulterado, para que ele vos faça crescer para a salvação, se é que já saboreastes como o Senhor é bom.
O Domingo in albis traz-me à memória uma velha e piedosa
tradição da minha terra. Neste dia, em que a liturgia convida a desejar o
alimento espiritual - rationabile, sine dolo lac concupiscite,
desejai ardentemente o puro leite espiritual - era costume levar a
Sagrada Comunhão aos doentes, mesmo que não se tratasse de casos graves,
para que pudessem cumprir o preceito pascal.
Nalgumas cidades grandes, cada paróquia organizava uma procissão
eucarística. Recordo que, nos meus anos de estudante universitário, era
habitual cruzarem-se no Coso de Saragoça três comitivas em que só
iam homens, milhares de homens, com grandes círios a arder. Eram homens
vigorosos que acompanhavam o Senhor Sacramentado com uma fé maior do
que aquelas grandes velas que pesavam muitos quilos.
Esta noite, tendo acordado várias vezes, repeti, como jaculatória, quasi modo geniti infantes,
como meninos recém-nascidos... Pensava que esse convite da Igreja vem
muito a propósito para todos os que sentimos a realidade da filiação
divina, porque nos convém ser muito rijos, fortes, gente de têmpera
capaz de influir em qualquer ambiente em que nos encontremos. E, no
entanto, diante de Deus, é tão bom que nos consideremos filhos pequenos!
Somos filhos de Deus Quasi modo geniti infantes, rationabile, sine dolo lac concupiscite,
como meninos que acabam de chegar ao mundo, gritai pelo leite limpo e
puro do espírito. É extraordinário este versículo de S. Pedro, e entendo
muito bem que logo a seguir a liturgia tenha acrescentado: exsultate Deo, adiutori nostro: iubilate Deo Iacob;
alegrai-vos em Deus, nosso protector: aclamai o Deus de Jacob, que é
também Senhor e Pai Nosso. Mas não pretendia que vós e eu meditássemos
hoje sobre o Santo Sacramento do Altar, que arranca dos nossos corações
os mais altos louvores a Jesus. Preferia que nos detivéssemos nessa
certeza da filiação divina e nalgumas das suas consequências para todos
os que pretendem viver com nobre empenho a sua fé cristã.
[motete de William Byrd (séc. XVI) sobre o mesmo Salmo 80]
Oremos: Deus de eterna misericórdia, que reanimais a fé do vosso povo na
celebração anual das festas pascais, aumentai em nós os dons da vossa
graça, para compreendermos melhor as riquezas inesgotáveis do Baptismo
com que fomos purificados, do Espírito em que fomos renovados e do
Sangue com que fomos redimidos. Por Nosso Senhor Jesus Cristo, vosso
Filho, que é Deus convosco na unidade do Espírito Santo. Amen.
Gabrielle Girgis, a Postdoctoral Fellow at the Ethics and Public
Policy Center, recently earned her doctorate in political science from
Princeton.
When conservatives invoke their right to religious liberty,
progressives raise a common objection: third-party harm. Religious
people, the argument goes, shouldn’t get to live their faith in ways
that burden people who don’t share their beliefs.
On this view, the Christian owner of a small bakery who can’t in good
conscience bake a cake celebrating a same-sex wedding shouldn’t get to
make LGBT customers bear the social stigma of being refused service (even if most other bakers in the area will provide them with a cake). Catholic nuns whose life’s work is to serve the elderly and the poor can’t deny their employees insurance coverage of contraceptives that cause early abortions (even though those employees have many other forms of low-cost access). A Catholic foster-care agency committed to the view that children deserve a mother and a father shouldn’t get to certify opposite, but not same-sex couples as potential foster parents (even if there are many other agencies that would certify same-sex couples).
In all these cases and others like them, progressives see third-party
burdens—for people having to find another wedding service provider,
another job or another form of low-cost contraception—as weighing
heavily against, or simply overriding, claims to religious liberty
exemptions. That’s why it should come as no surprise that the
progressive-driven Equality Act explicitly forbids any appeal to the
Religious Freedom Restoration Act as a defense.
The Equality Act—just passed in the House on February 25th, and soon to come
up for a vote in the Senate—replaces the term “sex” in federal civil
rights law with “sex, sexual orientation, and gender identity.” It thus
gives sexual orientation and gender identity the same status as other
protected classes under civil rights law, like race and disability.
The goal of eradicating unjust discrimination should appeal to all of
us. But the Equality Act is a bludgeon, not an instrument, for doing
that; it applies much more broadly and harms many other interests in the
process. And when it comes to the law’s own third-party harms,
which are much broader than any burdens that have been tied to
conservative religious liberty claims, progressives have been strikingly
and disturbingly silent.
Good summaries of the law’s implications can be found here, here and here. But to summarize, under the Equality Act:
Any refusal to support or provide abortions will be regarded as “pregnancy discrimination.”
Refusal to perform sex-reassignment surgeries will be deemed illegal
discrimination, thus usurping the scientific expert opinion of many
medical providers that these operations are harmful, especially to
children.
These are consequences that many on the Left will think necessary and
even just. But notice that these long-term costs for health care
providers and religious institutions flow from others’ beliefs, which
those who bear the costs do not share — just like the costs to LGBT people
cited in religious liberty debates. Yet for progressives, these steps
are simply required to attain justice for trans-identifying men and
women.
But the law will also create a wide range of broader third-party harms, about which most progressives are saying nothing. Let’s talk about some of them.
The Equality Act will have a huge adverse effect on women and girls.
It will undermine their schools, their sports, their equality and their
privacy. Any schools that want to remain dedicated to women’s
education, based on plenty of evidence that all-female environments greatly benefit women’s learning and achievement,
will be unlawfully discriminatory if they refuse to admit males who
identify as girls. Ditto for athletic competitions. And in general,
under this law, women and girls can no longer depend on single-sex facilities like
shared hospital rooms or wards, locker rooms or public showers,
multi-stall bathrooms, jails, prisons, juvenile detention facilities,
homeless shelters or domestic violence and rape crisis shelters.
The law will also make it illegal to ask that someone of your (or your children’s) biological sex be
the ones to perform intimate medical exams, manage intimate medical
care in hospitals or long-term health care facilities, oversee a doctor
or other health care provider who is giving that care, perform pat downs
or strip searches at the airport, supervise children on overnight trips
or supervise locker rooms and shared showers.
These third-party harms are worse, in at least two ways, than the
effects of religious liberty claims. First, the burdens of religious
liberty claims typically fall on people who have chosen to transact with
conservatives seeking religious exemptions. But the harms of the
Equality Act will fall on third parties—particularly women and
children—who will often have no way of avoiding them.
And second, these costs often go far beyond those that
progressives tie to religious liberty protections. They don’t just
protect others’ freedom to live by beliefs you don’t share. Many of them
legally coerce people into conduct that supports such beliefs. No one
can say the Little Sisters of the Poor, Jack Phillips or Catholic Social
Services are forcing anyone to act in support of their beliefs about life and marriage.
The harms of the Equality Act—which are not being publicized and will
likely catch many Americans by surprise—don’t matter to those promoting
it. President Biden, in spite of his inaugural appeals to unity,
suggested as much when he marked “transgender equality as the civil
rights issue of our time,” with “no room for disagreement.” The cause of
getting every American citizen to support gender ideology justifies all
the harms the Equality Act might impose on people in the vulnerable
situations described above.
This is a huge inconsistency. If third-party harms matter at all,
then they matter here too, not just in religious liberty cases. You
can’t insist that girls give up all-female athletic competitions, or
that women accept male medical providers, while maintaining that
traditional Christians can’t be doctors, teachers or wedding-service
providers.
That’s why it’s unjust that the Equality Act explicitly prevents any
appeal to the Religious Freedom Restoration Act as a defense against its
far-reaching implications. The law is baking in the radical assumption
that the community should help you shoulder all of the costs of
identifying with the opposite sex, but none of those that come with
living your faith beyond your front door.
The reason we allow third-party costs, to any law, is that we believe
those costs come with greater benefits. We should bear the costs of
fighting unjust discrimination against those identifying as transgender,
because they are human beings with dignity, worthy of respect, with
much to contribute to the public good. But by the same token, we should
also bear the costs of allowing religious people who reasonably disagree
with the Left’s beliefs about marriage, abortion and gender to adhere
to their faith as they contribute the great social goods they have long
provided to our country.
Historically, religious people have helped the state shoulder its
burden of care through important work in health care, education, soup
kitchens, adoption agencies and other charitable organizations. It would
be profoundly unjust for the state to now refuse the reciprocity it has
long shown in protecting religious liberty.
We should all support the goal of eradicating unjust discrimination,
but must reduce the high costs that are so perniciously woven into the
Equality Act.
Restez avec moi, Seigneur, car il est nécessaire de Vous avoir présent pour ne pas Vous oublier. Vous savez avec quelle facilité je Vous abandonne.
Restez avec moi, Seigneur, parce que je suis faible et j'ai besoin de Votre force pour ne pas tomber si souvent.
Restez avec moi, Seigneur, parce que Vous êtes ma vie, et, sans Vous, je suis sans ferveur.
Restez avec moi, Seigneur, parce que Vous êtes ma lumière, et, sans Vous, je suis dans les ténèbres.
Restez avec moi, Seigneur, pour me montrer Votre volonté.
Restez avec moi, Seigneur, pour que j'entende Votre voix et Vous suive.
Restez avec moi, Seigneur, parce que je désire Vous aimer beaucoup et être toujours en Votre compagnie.
Restez avec moi, Seigneur, si Vous voulez que je Vous sois fidèle.
Restez avec moi, Jésus, parce que, si pauvre que soit mon âme, elle désire être pour Vous un lieu de consolation, un nid d'amour.
Restez avec moi, Jésus, parce qu'il se fait tard et que le jour décline... c'est à dire que la vie passe, la mort, le jugement, l'éternité approchent et il est nécessaire de refaire mes forces pour ne pas m'arrêter en chemin et, pour cela, j'ai besoin de Vous. Il se fait tard et la mort approche. Je crains les ténèbres, les tentations, les sécheresses, les croix, les peines, et combien j'ai besoin de Vous, mon Jésus, dans cette nuit de l'exil.
Restez avec moi, Jésus, parce que, dans cette nuit de la vie et des dangers, j'ai besoin de Vous. Faites que je Vous reconnaisse comme vos disciples à la fraction du pain, c'est-à-dire que la communion eucharistique soit la lumière qui dissipe les ténèbres, la force qui me soutienne et l'unique joie de mon cœur.
Restez avec moi, Seigneur, parce qu'à l'heure de la mort, je veux rester uni à Vous, sinon par la communion, du moins par la grâce et l'amour.
Restez avec moi, Jésus, je ne Vous demande pas les consolations divines parce que je ne les mérite pas, mais le don de Votre présence, oh ! Oui, je Vous le demande.
Restez avec moi, Seigneur, C'est Vous seul que je cherche, Votre amour, Votre grâce, Votre volonté, Votre Cœur, Votre Esprit, parce que je Vous aime et ne demande pas d'autre récompense que de Vous aimer davantage. D'un amour ferme, pratique, Vous aimer de tout mon cœur sur la terre, pour continuer à Vous aimer parfaitement pendant toute l'éternité.
