Near the Cross

I will be going to the Stations of the Cross directly after work, and then a Knights of Columbus fish fry, so I won't have time to write this evening, but here are a couple of things that are in the spirit of the Stations. This morning at Mass, the organist was playing this hymn during Communion. I love Fanny Crosby's hymns. They're so elemental. And Alison Krauss's voice is so pure. Sorry about the poor quality of the video. It might be best with your eyes shut.

 

Then I came across this quote:

The first thing that shakes you up about sickness is that it hits us without any warning and at a time we do not decide. We are at the mercy of events, and we can do nothing but accept them. Grave illness obliges one to become aware that we are truly mortal; even if death is the most certain thing in the world, modern man tends to live as if he should never die. 

In sickness you understand for the first time that life on earth is but a breath, you recognize with bitterness that you have not made it that masterpiece of holiness God had wanted. You experience a profound nostalgia for the good that you could have done and for the bad that you could have avoided. You look at the Crucifix and you understand that this is the heart of the Faith; without sacrifice Catholicism wouldn’t exist. Then you thank God for having made you a Catholic, a “little ” Catholic, a sinner, but who has an attentive Mother in the Church. So, grave sickness is a time of grace, but often the vices and miseries that have accompanied us in life remain, or even increase [during it]. It is as if the agony has already begun, and there is a battle going on for the destiny of my soul, because nobody can be sure of their own salvation.

This comes from an interview last October with a Professor Mario Palmaro, who died on March 9 at the age of 45. I came across it on the Korrektiv Blog. I can't say that I agree with everything in the interview or on the blog on which it was posted, but this quote is both powerful and truthful. 

AMDG