Saturday, October 4, 2014

October 4 - Canticles of St. Francis

Click on this links below for videos and meditations on the life and words of St. Francis of Assisi. The videos feature music composed by Richard Blackford, from his Mirror of Perfection CD, and narration by Jeremy Irons. The video series capture 5 of the 7 pieces from the CD. Enjoy.

Canticles of St. Francis

More meditations on the words of St Francis from The Writings of St. Francis: "The Canticle of Love."
Love of loves, why have you so wounded me? My heart, torn from its dwelling, is consumed with love.
It is on fire, it burns, it finds no resting place, it cannot flee because it is chained up. It is consumed like wax in the fire. Dying it lives. Its languor is sweet, it prays for power to escape for a while and finds itself in the middle of a furnace. Alas, where will this terrible faintness lead me? The burning heat of this fire so stifles me that it is death to live like this.
Before making trial of it, I prayed to Christ asking for his love. I thought that I would find sweetness in his love and that I would delight in his gentle peace so much that no worries would be able to trouble me. But I experienced a torment that I could never have imagined. The heat breaks my heart. I cannot describe how I suffer. I am dying of sweetness and I live deprived of my heart.
My heart wounded by divine love, is no longer my own. I have no judgement, no will, no ability to enjoy myself or sense of feeling. All beauty seems to be like mud and delights and riches are perdition. A tree of love, laden with fruit, is planted in my heart and nourishes me. It transforms me so much that it expels my self-will, intelligence and strength.
If I was able to love more I would, but my heart can love no more. Clearly, I cannot give more than myself, even if I desire to give more than that. I have given everything to possess this Lover who has made a new man of me since I found him. O goodness old and always new, immense Light whose splendour is so sweet!
My heart is enraptured, and I can no longer see that I have to do or what I have not to do. People who observe me ask if a love without deeds can please thee, O Christ. If it does not please you what can I do? My heart is worn out with abundance of Christ’s love. Love, which enfolds me, takes away all action and all initiative. I lose all sense of feeling.
Before, I knew how to speak; now, I am dumb. Before, I could see; now, I am blind. There has never been such a great capture. I am silent, and I speak; I fly, and I am chained; I fall, and I am raised up; I hold, and I am held. All at the same moment I am inside and outside; I pursue and I am pursued. Insensate Love, why dost thou make me mad, why dost thou kill me in such a raging furnace?
Why have you led me into such a furnace if it is your will that I should keep within bounds? In giving yourself to me without measure you have taken all measure from me. Since I am small you fully satisfy me and as you are great I cannot possess you any more. If this is foolishness, O Love, it comes from you and not from me. You, O Love, have directed me along this path.

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