Silence, repetition, establishing a design for daily living, I decided to make a late evening biographic entry. A remarkable Godly moment during Mass, and also a lively moment within the natural realm, marked today. A beautiful sunny day, temperatures in the eighties, I enjoyed a long ride on my Trek touring bicycle. Riding fast on a subdivision street, a fairly large blur in my side-vision and the sound of rushing announced a chasing dog targeting me. Looking back, I identified the fact a pit bull of decent size would soon be upon my heels. I raised my legs in the air to give the dog nothing to latch onto. I scolded the dog, only to be surprised by the return canine expression. The dog disarmed me with a smile, and sheer exultation to be running with me. Biting me was not her intent. I placed my feet upon my pedals, informing her that her idea of fun was a bit startling. She ran alongside with a power and grace that could only be admired. She ran hard and with everything she had. Her owner came up behind us in a van, telling her to go home, and another screaming from the yard ordered her to get home. She gave me a look before turning back. I could only smile. Her owner in the van asked if I was ok. I responded that once we met eyes. it was obvious she was friendly, only wanting to run and play, however I admitted she did give me quite a fright at first. The moment made a lasting impression. I almost feel I made a friend. The Mass moment involved a Homily and The Imitation of Christ. In a previous post, I quoted the Imitation of Christ, Book 1—Chapter 24. I was guided to the reading through the biography: ‘St Louis De Montfort: The Story of Our Lady’s Slave’ by Mary Fabyan Windeatt. The Imitation of Christ reading, amongst many, was assigned by St Louis De Montfort to the young Maria Louise Trichet. Today with a friend, we deep-dived the particular Imitation of Christ reading, spending a great deal time on the idea: ‘…when he (the patient man) does frequent violence to himself and tries to bring the body into complete subjection to the spirit…’ What did it mean to do violence to one’s self? Then during the homily at Holy Rosary in Little Italy, the evening Mass, the priest introduced the idea of warring against sin. Wonderfully, he advanced his ideas with the dramatic thought that battling sin needed to be elevated to the level of doing violence to ourselves. He stressed the aspect of violence in order to efficiently combat sin, broadening the idea with the fact that an addict, one habitually entrenched in a particular sin, must wage extreme efforts upon himself to rid himself of deep-rooted sin. Stunned, I listened to the priest expand upon the exact idea, verbiage identical, I had explored only hours before Mass. What does it mean to do violence upon one’s self in this life, in order to face Christ properly at its end?
The hound of heaven.
