St Thomas Aquinas

This morning due to the ice, we had a communion service. This is only the second time I can remember in 11 years, having a communion service instead of Mass. We were able to sing the English version of some of St. Thomas Aquinas's hymns. I also can't remember singing the English versions. The words just jumped out at me, so I thought that you might like a translation of one of his hymns. 

(Latin) 

Pange, lingua, gloriosi 

Corporis mysterium 

Sanguinisque pretiosi, 

Quem in mundi pretium, 

Fructus ventris generosi, 

Rex effudit gentium.

Nobis datus, nobis natus 

Ex intacta Virgine, 

Et in mundo conversatus, 

Sparso verbi semine 

Sui moras incolatus 

Miro clausit ordine.

In supremae nocte coenae 

Recumbens cum fratribus, 

Observata lege plene 

Cibis in legalibus, 

Cibum turbae duodenae 

Se dat suis manibus

Verbum caro panem verum 

Verbo carnem efficit; 

Fit sanguis Christi merum. 

Et si sensus deficit, 

Ad firmandum cor sincerum 

Sola fides sufficit.

Tantum ergo sacramentum 

Venereumur cernui. 

Et antiquum documentum 

Novo cedat ritui. 

Praestet fides supplementum 

Sensuum defectui.

Genitori genitoque 

Laus et jubilatio, 

Salus, honor, virtus quoque 

Sit et benedictio. 

Procedenti ab utroque 

Compar sit laudatio.

Amen. 

(English) 

Acclaim, my tongue, this mystery 

Of glorious Body and precious Blood 

Which the King of nations shed for us 

A noble womb's sole fruitful bud. 

Given and born from a Virgin pure, 

Having made this world His dwelling place, 

When the seeds of His words were sown afar 

He ended His stay in wondrous grace. 

With brethren reclining at that last meal, 

He observes in full what the Law demands, 

Then gives Himself as food instead 

To apostles twelve with His own hands. 

The Word in Flesh makes true bread flesh, 

The Blood of Christ then comes from wine. 

Though senses fail to see this truth, 

Faith will make pure hearts incline.

So great a sacrament, therefore, 

Let us revere while kneeling down. 

Let old laws yield to this new rite. 

Let faith, not sense, conviction ground.

Praise and jubilation to the Father; 

Honor, virtue, blessing to the Son; 

And to the One Who proceeds from both 

In equal measure may praise be sung.

Amen

God bless! and stay warm....

All Saints Hymn

Rejoice with all the saints this day,
Who ran by faith the narrow way.
The great and low together stand
With glory crowned at God's right hand.

How blest are they the Spirit's poor,
Their king is Jesus Christ the Lord,
And all who mourned have found new birth;
The patient meek await the earth.

How blest are those who fought the fight,
God's justice fills their thirst for right.
The pure of heart God's face behold;
The merciful have overflowed.

How blest are those who wrought the peace
As heirs they share the Victor's feast;
And prophets by injustice slain
Have claimed the Kingdom's righteous reign.

Come martyrs red and virgins white,
All teachers wise and students bright,
All wives and husbands, monks and nuns,
With bishops, priests, and deacons, come.

Come holy men and women all
With heart and voice sing praise and call
To Christ who rose triumphantly
That we amy join your company.

Most blest the Father, and the Son.
Most blest the Spirit, Three in One.
Your Kindom come, your will be done.
Your praise forever more be sung.  Amen.

~ Harry Hagan, OSB

in Praying with the Benedictines,

A Window on the Cloister

Michael, Raphael and Gabriel

Our Office of Lauds uses the following hymn for the Feast of the Archangels.  We thought you would enjoy meditating on the text of this wonderful hymn as well...

Christ, of the Angels praise and adoration,

Father and Savior Thou, of every nation,

Graciously grant us all to gain a station,

Where Thou art reigning.

Angel all peaceful, to our dwelling send us,

Michael, from heaven coming to befriend us,

Breathing serenest peace may he attend us,

Grim war dispelling.

Angel of Strength, who triumphed, tumults quelling

Gabriel send us, ancient foes expelling,

Oft in these temples may he make his dwelling,

Dear unto heaven.

Angel Physician, health on man bestowing,

Raphael send us from the skies all glowing,

All sickness curing, wisest counsel showing

In doubt and danger.

May the fair Mother of the Light be o'er us,

Virgin of peace, with all the Angel chorus,

And may the heavenly army go before us,

Guiding and guarding.

O may the Godhead, endless bliss possessing,

Father, Son, Spirit, grant us this blessing;

All His creation joins His praise confessing,

Now and forever.

Amen.

Source:  The Monastic Diurnal

Triumph of the Most Holy Cross

Today's feast gives us the opportunity to pause and meditate on the great mystery of the Cross of Christ.  The instrument of torture and death that God used as the means of our reconciliation. 

Take a few moments to mediate on the words of Ve­nan­ti­us For­tu­na­tus (Sing, My Tongue, the Glorious Battle) trans­lat­ed from the La­tin into Eng­lish by Per­cy Dear­mer, 1931, and John M. Neale.

Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle,
Sing the ending of the fray;
Now above the cross, the trophy,
Sound the loud triumphant lay:
Tell how Christ the world’s Redeemer,
As a victim won the day.

He, our Maker, deeply grieving
That the first made Adam fell,
When he ate the fruit forbidden
Whose reward was death and hell,
Marked e’en then this Tree the ruin
Of the first tree to dispel.

Tell how, when at length the fullness,
Of th’appointed time was come,
Christ, the Word, was born of woman,
Left for us His heavenly home;
Showed us human life made perfect,
Shone as light amid the gloom.

Lo! He lies an Infant weeping,
Where the narrow manger stands,
While the Mother-Maid His members
Wraps in mean and lowly bands,
And the swaddling clothes is winding
Round His helpless feet and hands.

Thus, with thirty years accomplished,
Went He forth from Nazareth,
Destined, dedicated, willing,
Wrought His work, and met His death.
Like a lamb He humbly yielded
On the cross His dying breath.

There the nails and spears He suffers,
Vinegar, and gall, and reed;
From His sacred body piercèd
Blood and water both proceed;
Precious flood, which all creation
From the stain of sin hath freed.

Faithful cross, thou sign of triumph,
Now for us the noblest tree,
None in foliage, none in blossom,
None in fruit thy peer may be;
Symbol of the world’s redemption,
For the weight that hung on thee!

Bend thy boughs, O tree of glory!
Thy relaxing sinews bend;
For awhile the ancient rigor
That thy birth bestowed, suspend;
And the King of heavenly beauty
On thy bosom gently tend!

Thou alone wast counted worthy
This world’s ransom to sustain,
That a shipwrecked race forever
Might a port of refuge gain,
With the sacred blood anointed
Of the Lamb of sinners slain.

To the Trinity be glory
Everlasting, as is meet:
Equal to the Father, equal
To the Son, and Paraclete:
God the Three in One, whose praises
All created things repeat.