A Guilty World

I know a plaintive round with lyrics brief and simple, yet profoundly stirring: "When Jesus wept, the falling tear in mercy fell beyond all bounds; when Jesus groaned, a trembling fear seized all the guilty world around." During Lent, we remember our guilt, our need for a Savior. However, if you really strive for holiness, it is easy to "rest on your laurels," forgetting the monstrous evil of sin. Contrition is an act of the will and not primarily a matter of sentiment, but feelings of contrition certainly help inspire a more prompt and perfect will. To that end...I bring you more poetry. While Chesterton emphasizes the joy of the Cross, John Donne evokes the tragedy.

CRUCIFYING.
By miracles exceeding power of man,
He faith in some, envy in some begat,
For, what weak spirits admire, ambitious hate :
In both affections many to Him ran.
But O ! the worst are most, they will and can,
Alas ! and do, unto th' Immaculate,
Whose creature Fate is, now prescribe a fate,
Measuring self-life's infinity to span,
Nay to an inch. Lo ! where condemned He
Bears His own cross, with pain, yet by and by
When it bears him, He must bear more and die.
Now Thou art lifted up, draw me to Thee,
And at Thy death giving such liberal dole,
Moist with one drop of Thy blood my dry soul.

HOLY SONNETS.
XI.
Spit in my face, you Jews, and pierce my side,
Buffet, and scoff, scourge, and crucify me,
For I have sinn'd, and sinne', and only He,
Who could do no iniquity, hath died.
But by my death can not be satisfied
My sins, which pass the Jews' impiety.
They kill'd once an inglorious man, but I
Crucify him daily, being now glorified.
O let me then His strange love still admire ;
Kings pardon, but He bore our punishment ;
And Jacob came clothed in vile harsh attire,
But to supplant, and with gainful intent ;
God clothed Himself in vile man's flesh, that so
He might be weak enough to suffer woe.

In Good Hands

I pity all those who reject the doctrine of Divine Providence. There is great comfort in being part of something bigger(and better) than yourself.
"Pater, in manus tuas commendo spiritum meum." (Luke 23:46)

A Prayer in Darkness
Chesterton

This much, O heaven—if I should brood or rave,
Pity me not; but let the world be fed,
Yea, in my madness if I strike me dead,
Heed you the grass that grows upon my grave.

If I dare snarl between this sun and sod,
Whimper and clamour, give me grace to own,
In sun and rain and fruit in season shown,
The shining silence of the scorn of God.

Thank God the stars are set beyond my power,
If I must travail in a night of wrath,
Thank God my tears will never vex a moth,
Nor any curse of mine cut down a flower.

Men say the sun was darkened: yet I had
Thought it beat brightly, even on—Calvary:
And He that hung upon the Torturing Tree
Heard all the crickets singing, and was glad.