Giesmė "Attende, Domine"

Lotyniškas tekstas	Itališkas tekstas	Lietuviškas tekstas
℟. Attende, Domine, et miserere, quia peccavimus tibi. Ad te Rex summe, omnium redemptor, oculos nostros sublevamus flentes: exaudi, Christe, supplicantum preces. ℟.	℟. A noi, tuo popolo, che a te ritorna dona la pace, Signore. A te, Signore, che ci hai redento, i nostri occhi solleviamo in pianto; ascolta, o Cristo, l’umile lamento.	℟. Pažvelk, Viešpatie, ir pasigailėk, nes nusidėjom Tau. Į Tave, aukščiausias Karaliau, visų Atpirkėjau: verkdami keliam savo akis: išgirsk, Kristau, prašančių maldas. ℟.
Dextera Patris, lapis angularis, via salutis, ianua caelestis, ablue nostri maculas delicti. ℟.	Figlio di Dio, capo della Chiesa, tu sei la via, sei la porta al cielo, con il tuo sangue lava i nostri cuori.	Tėvo dešine, kertinis akmenie, gelbstinti gyvybe, dangaus vartai: nuplauk mūsų nusikaltimų dėmes. ℟.
Rogamus, Deus, tuam maiestatem: auribus sacris gemitus exaudi: crimina nostra placidus indulge. ℟.	Tu sei grandezza, assoluto amore; noi siamo terra che tu hai plasmato: in noi ricrea la tua somiglianza.	Prašom, Dieve, Tavąją didybę, šventa ausim: išklausyk raudas.: Mūs kaltes permaldautas atleisk. ℟.
Tibi fatemur crimina admissa: contrito corde pandimus occulta: tua Redemptor, pietas ignoscat. ℟.	Ti confessiamo d’essere infedeli, ma il nostro cuore s’apre a te sincero; tu, Redentore, guardalo e perdona.	Tau pripažįstam nusikaltimus, net slapčiausius iš jų atskleidžiam sugraudinti, tepamiršta juos Tavo, Atpirkėjau, gerumas. ℟.
Innocens captus, nec repugnans ductus, testibus falsis pro impiis damnatus: quos redemisti, tu conserva, Christe. ℟.	Ti sei vestito del peccato nostro, ti sei offerto come puro Agnello: ci hai redenti, non lasciarci, o Cristo.	Be kaltės sugautas, nesigynei vedamas: su nedorais netikrų liudytojų pasmerktas - išsaugok, Kristau, tuos, kuriuos atpirkai. ℟.

Salve regina misericordie

Salve regina misericordie

Vita dulcedo et spes nostra salve.
Ad te clamamus exules filii Eve.
Ad te suspiramus gementes et flentes
in hac lacrimarum valle.

Eya ergo advocata nostra, illos tuos

misericordes oculos ad nos convente
Et Iesum benedictum fructus ventris tui
nobis post hoc exilium ostende.
O clemens, o pia, o dulcis Maria.

Alpha et omega misit de superis

gloriosum solamen miseris,
cum Gabriel a summa gerarchia
paranimphus dicit in armonia:
Ave Virgo Maria.
O clemens, o pia, o dulcis Maria.

O pastores pro Deu surgite,

quid vidistis de Christo dicite.
Reges Tharsis de stella visione
sint testes in apparitione:
Ave Virgo Maria.
O clemens, o pia, o dulcis Maria.

Fons humilis, aquarum puteus,

rosa mundi, splendor sydereus,
amigdalus Aaron fructuosa,
precantibus esto lux gloriosa:
Ave virgo Maria.

The Miraculous Conversion of Alphonse Ratisbonne Part I

In November 1830, the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to a young novice in the convent of the Sisters of Charity at Rue du Bac, Paris. The novice's name was Catherine Laboure'.

This was not the first time she had seen Our Lady, but it was the most significant. Our Lady appeared holding a globe, which she lifted while gazing prayerfully heavenward (signifying that she is praying for the entire world). Then the globe disappeared, and the vision changed. Our Lady extended both hands, from which rays of light streamed. Around her formed an arch with the words:

“O Marie concue sans peche, priez pour nous qui avons recours a vous” -- “O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to you.”

Our Lady asked that a medal be struck showing this vision. On the back of the medal, she asked for the depiction of two hearts (hers and Christ's), with a cross surmounting the letter M. She promised that God would grant great graces through this medal to Christians who would wear it prayerfully.

With great difficulty, Sister Laboure' convinced her confessor to arrange for the striking of the medal. It was finally approved, struck, and circulated.

Originally known as the Medal of the Immaculate Conception, it quickly became known as the Miraculous Medal, because so many miracles of healing and conversion attended those who wore it. Nonetheless, although the Pope himself possessed a Miraculous Medal, it was initially most popular in France; it did not become firmly established at Rome and worldwide until after the miraculous conversion of Alphonse Ratisbonne.

Rue de Bac, Paris, where the Miraculous Medal was first revealed to St. Catherine Laboure.

The Miraculous Conversion of Alphonse Ratisbonne Part II

Fast-forward to January 6, 1842. Alphonse, a young Jewish banker, has just arrived in Rome. The scion of Strasbourg's most important Jewish family, he is a man of the world: wealthy, refined, sophisticated, agnostic (a former atheist)...a friend of the Rothschilds, entirely at ease in the salons of the nobility. At 28, he is engaged to his own niece, Flore Ratisbonne, whom he plans to marry the following August. Right now, he is touring Europe and the East, partly for pleasure and partly for his health -- one last fling before settling down with Flore and assuming a partnership at his uncle's bank.

Alphonse hasn't intended to visit Rome. He is fiercely anti-Catholic: As he himself puts it, the very name of the Jesuits provokes him to fury. He has always harbored this antipathy to Catholicism, but it has intensified exponentially since his elder brother, Theodor, became a convert and subsequently (gasp!) a priest.

Therefore, the very last place in the world Alphonse wants to visit is Rome. But somehow he has ended up here. At Naples, he'd somehow stumbled into the wrong ticket line...and in a fit of pique, even after he realized what was up, he remained there and booked his passage on the steamer to Rome. So here he is, making the best of it, avidly touring Roman ruins and museums in the company of a paid guide.

Suddenly he hears his name called and wheels around. It is his old classmate from Strasbourg, Gustave de Bussieres, a Protestant. (Alphonse doesn't mind Protestant chums; it's just Catholics he objects to.)

The two eagerly rekindle their friendship. Later, when Alphonse calls on Gustave, he encounters the latter's older brother, the Baron Theodor de Bussieres, a convert to Catholicism and a close friend of Alphonse's priest-brother. Alphonse feels instinctive abhorrence toward this zealous Catholic convert, but he knows the baron is an expert on Constantinople (which Alphonse plans to visit) so he rashly agrees to call upon him for travel advice.

This hasty promise proves to be Alphonse's undoing.

Within the next day or two, Alphonse visits the Church of the Aracoeli, where the "chants solennels" stir him deeply; he is so moved he weeps, although he can't put his finger on what it is that has touched him. Directly afterward, though, he visits Rome's notorious Jewish ghetto, where the palpable misery of his people renews his fury against everything Catholic.

From there, he goes to pay his call on the Baron de Bussieres. He doesn't intend to actually visit, though. Rather, he will merely leave his card and depart. But the baron's doorman mistakes Alphonse's intention and bustles him into the drawing room, where the baron, his wife, and his young daughters are en famille.

At first, the baron and Alphonse merely exchange meaningless pleasantries. Then Alphonse happens to mention his visit to the Aracoeli; he recounts the strange emotion he felt, the vague religious awakening...

Suddenly he notices the baron's eager expression, which seems to say: "You will be a Catholic someday!" Repelled by the baron's zeal, Alphonse describes his visit to the Jewish ghetto. He launches into a vicious attack on the Catholic Church, which he holds responsible for all the misery endured by Jews since the time of Christ.

Unfazed, the baron responds by extolling the glories of Catholicism. Alphonse replies sarcastically, openly ridiculing Catholic "superstition." Only the presence of Mme. de Bussieres and the children keeps him from outright blasphemy.

Finally, the baron makes an extraordinary proposition.

"Since you abhor superstition and espouse such liberal views," he asks Alphonse, "would you consider submitting to a simple test?"

"What test?"

"To wear something I'm going to give you. It's a medal of the Holy Virgin. It appears quite ridiculous to you, no doubt. But as for me, I attach great importance to it."

And he shows Alphonse the Miraculous Medal attached to a cord. Alphonse is dumbstruck. He can scarcely believe the baron's impertinence. But as a man of the world, he doesn't want to seem to be making too much of a trifle. So he consents, breezily quoting a line from The Tales of Hoffman: "If it does me no good, at least it will do me no harm."

The baron's little daughter puts the medal around Alphonse's neck. And Alphonse breaks into laughter: "Ah! Ah! Me voila catholique, apostolique et romain!"

But the baron presses further. Merely to wear the Medal isn't enough, he says. Alphonse must also agree to pray a simple prayer, the Memorare of St. Bernard.

This is too much. "Laissons ces sottises!" exclaims Alphonse -- "Let's stop this foolishness!" For the mention of St. Bernard has reminded him of his brother, Abbe' Theodor Ratisbonne, author of a biography of the Cistercian saint. Anything that reminds Alphonse of his traitor-brother arouses his rage.

However, the baron persists. If Alphonse refuses to pray this short prayer, he insists, he'll thereby render the whole "test" null and void. So, Alphonse consents. At the Baron's behest, he even agrees to copy out the Memorare. Then he pockets it and leaves, greatly amused at the entire absurd episode.

But later that night, when he mechanically copies the prayer, something happens. He can't get the words of the Memorare out of his mind. They haunt him, he recounts later, like an annoying tune one can't dislodge from one's head. Over and over again, with mounting irritation, he murmurs this obtrusive prayer of St. Bernard.

Several times, during the following days, the baron takes Alphonse sightseeing. Always, no matter what monument they're visiting, the baron manages to work the conversation around to the subject of religion. This annoys Alphonse, but he's unflappable. Often, he lightly deflects the Baron's proselytism with raillery bordering on blasphemy.

At one point the baron assures Alphonse, "I'm convinced you'll one day become a Christian...even if the Lord has to send an angel from Heaven to bring it about."

"A la bonne heure," Alphonse responds drily, "car autrement la chose serait difficile." (The delicate French sarcasm of these words is truly untranslatable, but here's the gist: "The sooner the better, for otherwise the matter would be rather difficult.")

On the same occasion, as the carriage passes the Scala Sancta, the baron suddenly removes his hat and exclaims, "Hail, holy steps! Here is a future penitent who will one day ascend you on his knees!"

This staggers Alphonse. He cannot believe his companion is saluting "a bunch of stupid steps." A few minutes later, as they pass through the delicious gardens of a local villa, Alphonse doffs his own hat and parodies the baron: "Hail, true glories of nature! It is to you we should pay homage and not to a stupid staircase!"

In fact, the baron's relentless proselytism is starting to get on Alphonse's nerves. Far from drawing him toward Catholicism, it is repelling him further. Yet the baron, undaunted, persists.

But the baron is not relying on argument alone. He's also praying very hard. And so are his friends, his fellow members of Rome's tight-knit community of aristocratic French expatriates. Notable among these friends is the Comte de la Ferronays, ex-diplomat, once a notorious roue' and now a devout, fervent Catholic.

Moved by the baron's pleas, the Comte drops into a church and fervently prays "more than 20 Memorares" for the conversion of the "young Jew." That very same evening, the Comte suffers a fatal heart attack. After receiving his final Sacraments, he dies devoutly, surrounded by his loving family.

Now the stage is set for the conversion of Ratisbonne.

It is the night of January 19-20. Alphonse plans to leave Rome the following day. In the middle of the night, he is abruptly awakened. At the foot of his bed, he sees a large Cross (not crucifix), quite distinct, "sans Christ." He tries to shake the unwelcome sight, but he can't. No matter where he looks, there it is. Even when he closes his eyes, he sees it. At last, exhausted, he falls asleep. When he awakens in the morning, he has forgotten his night-vision.

Alphonse packs, breakfasts, and goes out to pay his farewell calls. He runs into his pal Gustave, and the two discuss an upcoming religious ceremony, the papal Blessing of Animals at St. Peter's. They're both greatly amused by the whole notion of such a ceremony, so they take this opportunity to mock and deride Catholicism. "There followed a volley of jests and witticisms," Alphonse later reports, "such as you'd imagine between a Jew and a Protestant."

After leaving Gustave, Alphonse stops at the Cafe Greco to read the newspapers. He runs into a few more expatriate friends, and they chat of frivolous things such as the brilliant ball given the previous evening. Then Alphonse exits into the brilliant Roman sunshine. It is just after noon.

Within moments, he encounters the carriage of the Baron de Bussieres. The baron invites him inside for one final sightseeing tour. But first, de Bussieres explains, he must stop at the Church of San Andrea delle Fratte for a quick errand. A dear friend of his, the Comte de la Ferronays, has just died, he says, and he must finalize the funeral arrangements.

They stop at the church. De Bussieres says he'll be only a few minutes, so Alphonse should wait in the carriage with Mme. de Bussieres, but Alphonse decides instead to come inside to see the church interior.

There's not much to see. The church is "poor, bare, and ugly," devoid of distinctive art or architecture. Alphonse looks around mechanically as de Bussieres hurries away to consult with the friars.

Alphonse is alone. Suddenly a large black dog bounds menacingly in front of him. But then, in the next moment, the dog disappears. In fact, everything disappears, as if a veil has been drawn over the church interior. A brilliant light blazes from a side chapel, the Chapel of the Archangels. It's as if all light has been concentrated at that one spot.

And in the center of the light, Alphonse sees her. She is standing on the altar: "tall, brilliant, full of sweetness and majesty." She is so blindingly beautiful that, after one glance at her face, he casts down his eyes. Repeatedly he tries to raise his eyes again, to behold that beautiful face. But he cannot. He can't raise his eyes past the level of her hands, which are outstretched, with light streaming from her fingers -- just as in the image on the Miraculous Medal.

But her hands are very expressive. To Alphonse, they speak of "all the tenderness of the Divine Pity."

With one hand, she gestures to him to approach. He does so, on his knees. After he has advanced a few paces, she gestures again, as if to signify: "Enough--that's good!"

Then, as he gazes on the light streaming from her fingers, he receives the gift of Infused Knowledge. Faster than thought, he understands all: his own profound sinfulness (especially the enormity of Original Sin); God's infinite love and mercy toward poor sinners, revealed in the Incarnation and Crucifixion; the beauty and truth of Catholicism; the reality of Christ's Real Presence in the Blessed Sacrament.

A Jewish agnostic reared in a skeptical milieu, he has never even heard the term "Original Sin"; now he instantly knows what it is, more profoundly than if he'd been studying the subject for years. The entire experience takes mere moments.

The Baron de Bussieres returns from his conference with the friars. He looks around the nave. Where is Ratisbonne? Finally, he spots the young man: slumped, kneeling, with his head against the altar rail in the Chapel of the Archangels.

The baron approaches. Once, twice, a third time, he taps Alphonse on the shoulder. No response. Finally Alphonse is roused. He turns toward the baron "a face bathed in tears," clasps his hands together, and exclaims, "Oh! How that gentleman has prayed for me!"

"That gentleman" is the Comte de la Ferronays, whom Alphonse has never met. No one has told Alphonse that the Comte had been praying for him. Rather, it has just been revealed to him...in the same supernatural light wherein he has received infused knowledge of Catholic Truth.

De Bussieres is stunned. He begs Alphonse to explain himself, but Alphonse cannot. He is sobbing too hard, murmuring between sobs, "How happy I am! How good God is! How unbelievers are to be pitied!"

The baron helps Alphonse outside and into his carriage. He takes him to the Hotel Serny, where Alphonse is staying, and loosens his cravat so he can breathe. But Alphonse is still sobbing, clasping his Miraculous Medal, murmuring thanks to God. At last he turns to the baron, embraces him, his face "presque transfiguree" and says: "Take me to a confessor! When can I receive baptism, without which I can no longer live?"

"What has happened?" exclaims the baron. "What have you seen?"

"That," says Alphonse, "I can reveal only on my knees and to a priest."

So...the baron takes him to the Gesu, the Jesuit mother-church, to see Pere de Villefort. There, Alphonse tries to explain himself, but he is still sobbing so hard that he is unintelligible. At last he calms down, takes the Miraculous Medal from his neck, holds it up, and cries: "Je l'ai vue! Je l'ai vue!"

Then, as the baron and the priest listen in amazement, Alphonse recounts the whole story. He concludes with an enigmatic statement that strikes his listeners forcefully: "Elle ne m'a rien dit, mais j'ai tout compris!"

Eleven days later, Alphonse is baptized at the Gesu. Everyone who is anyone is there, for the news of Alphonse's conversion has caused a sensation. (His family is renowned throughout Europe.) Attendees strain to catch a glimpse of the young convert, but he is oblivious. All he cares about is baptism...and then, the Holy Eucharist. He is so overcome by the experience of receiving the Eucharistic Lord that he has to be sustained by de Bussieres, his baptismal sponsor, while returning from the altar to his place.

The following month, the Vatican holds a canonical process to investigate the circumstances surrounding Alphonse's conversion. After lengthy investigation and many depositions, it concludes that his sudden conversion was entirely miraculous -- an act of God wrought through the powerful intercession of the Virgin.

The conversion of Ratisbonne is widely perceived as a confirmation by Heaven of the efficacy of the Miraculous Medal. The devotion spreads...and spreads....

The following July, Alphonse enters the Jesuits. He spends 10 fruitful years in the bosom of the Society. Then, with papal permission, he leaves to help his brother Theodor found the Congregation of Our Lady of Sion, dedicated to the conversion of the Jews. Alphonse spends the rest of his life as a holy priest, laboring among Jews and Arabs in the Holy Land. He establishes orphanages and schools for poor children, builds the Church of the Ecce Homo, and lives a life of extraordinary sanctity. He dies at Ain Karem, reputed site of the Visitation. On his deathbed, he goes into ecstasy -- apparently seeing, one last time before death, the Lady of the Miraculous Medal.

(major sources were Alphonse's own account of his conversion, the Baron de Bussiere's account, and a book by Fr. Rene Laurentin, Le 20 janvier 1842, Marie apparait a Alphonse Ratisbonne.)

Saint Alphonsus Maria de Liguori

Saint Alphonsus was the author of over 100 works, both "popular" works, easily accessible to all, and exegetical works, covering theology (especially moral theology), apologetics, dogma, and asceticism.

• Eternal Maxims, 1728
• Practice of Loving Jesus Christ, 1768
• History of Heresies, 1768
• Spiritual Songs, 1732
• Visits to the Blessed Sacrament, 1745
• Theologia moralis (1st edition), 1748
• The Glories of Mary, 1750
• Preparation for Death, 1758
• On the Great Means of Prayer, 1759
• True Spouse of Jesus Christ, 1760
• Considerations on the Passion of Jesus Christ, 1760
• On the Moderate Use of Probable Opinion, 1765
• Truth of Faith, 1767
• Practice of the Confessor for the Good Exercise of His Ministry, 1771

1.

St. Alphonsus Maria de Liguori, Eugene Grimm (Editor)
The Incarnation, Birth, and Infancy of Jesus Christ

"Ah, beautiful Infant! tell me whose child art Thou?" He replies: "My Mother is this pure and lovely Virgin who is standing by me." And who is thy Father? "My Father" he says, "is God." How is this? Thou art the Son of God, and art so poor; and why? Who will acknowledge Thee in such a condition? Who will respect Thee? "No," replies Jesus, "holy faith will make known who I am, and will make me loved by those souls whom I came to redeem and to inflame with my love."

Leidimo metai: 1887

📖 Skaityti PDF

2.

St. Alphonsus Maria de Liguori
The History of Heresies and Their Refutation

Photius promised everything, and was accordingly consecrated, but by the very same Gregory, and took possession of the See. Six months had not yet passed over, since his consecration, and he had broken all his oaths and promises

Leidimo metai: 1847

📖 Skaityti PDF

III. First Apparition

May, the month of flowers, follows the long April rains that wash the face of mother earth after her long winter sleep. Then God covers the world with jewels more beautiful than any precious stones. What can be more beautiful than the dainty, many-colored flowers of May?

On Sunday, the thirteenth of May, in the year 1917, during the midst of the First World War, God sent to earth the loveliest flower of the ages, His own beautiful Mother, Mary, Whom we address as Queen of the May. On that day the children went to early Mass.

“Heaven forbid,” Senhora Marto said, “that we should ever miss hearing Mass on Sundays, whether it rained or thundered or even if I were nursing my babies. Sometimes we had to go to Boleiros, Atouguia or Santa Catarina, almost six miles journey. I had to get up early and leave everything in my husband’s care. He would go to a later Mass. We could not take the babies with us when they were little, for then, neither we nor anyone else in church would have been able to hear Mass. Babies look like angels, but they don’t act like angels.”

Returning from Mass, the mother packed the children’s lunches and sent them off with the sheep. This day Lucia and her little cousins met as usual at the small bog, beyond the village, called the Barreiro, on the way to Gouveia, whence they proceeded to the Cova da Iria. Because the ground was rocky and filled with so much brush, they crossed it very slowly. It was almost noon before they reached their chosen spot. When they heard the church bells summoning the people to the last Mass they knew it was time for lunch. So they opened their bags and ate, as usual saving a little for later on. Their meal finished, they sped through their Rosary and then chased the sheep up the hill.

Their game today would be building, making castles out of the rocks. Francisco was the mason and architect, Lucia and Jacinta gathered the stones. While they were thus busily intent upon their building projects, a sudden bright shaft of light pierced the air. In their efforts to describe it they called it a flash of lightning. Frightened, they dropped their stones, looked first at each other, then at the sky which was clear and bright without the least spot of a cloud. No breeze stirred the air, the sun was shining strong. Such perfect weather belied this flash of lightning, the forerunner of a storm. The children decided that they had better start for home before it rained. Quickly they gathered the sheep and started down the hill. Half way down, just as they were passing a tall oak tree, another shaft of light split the air. Panicky with fear, and as if led by some unknown power, they took a few steps, turned towards the right, and there, standing over the foliage of a small holm oak, they saw a most beautiful Lady.

“It was a Lady dressed all in white,” Lucia records, “more brilliant than the sun, shedding rays of light, clear and stronger than a crystal glass filled with the most sparkling water, pierced by the burning rays of the sun.”

“Fear not!” the Lady said, “I will not harm you.”

“Where are You from?” Lucia made bold to ask.

“I am from Heaven,” the beautiful Lady replied, gently raising Her hand towards the distant horizons.

“What do You want of me?” Lucia humbly asked.

“I come to ask you to come here for six consecutive months, on the thirteenth day, at this same hour. I will tell you later who I am and what I want. And I shall return here again a seventh time.”

“And I, am I, too, going to go to Heaven?” Lucia asked.

“Yes, you shall,” the Lady assured her.

“And Jacinta?”

“Yes.”

“And Francisco?”

“He too shall go, but he must say many Rosaries,” the Lady responded.

Lucia asked some more questions of the Lady. Two girls who used to come to her house to learn sewing from her sisters had recently died. Lucia wanted to find out about them, too.

“And Maria do Rosario, daughter of José das Neves, is she in Heaven?”

“Yes,” the Lady replied.

“And Amelia?”

“She is still in Purgatory.”

Lucia’s eyes filled with tears. How sad, that her friend Amelia was suffering in the fires of Purgatory. Then the Lady said to the children:

“Do you want to offer yourselves to God to endure all the sufferings that He may choose to send you, as an act of reparation for the sins by which He is offended and as a supplication for the conversion of sinners?”

Promptly Lucia responded for all three, “Yes, we want to.”

“Then you are going to suffer a great deal,” the Lady promised, “but the grace of God will be your comfort.”

As She pronounced these words, the Lady opened Her hands and shed upon the children an intensely bright light, that penetrated the innermost depths of their souls.

“This light penetrated us to the heart,” Lucia reported, “even in its deepest recesses, and allowed us to see ourselves in God, Who was that light, more clearly than we see ourselves in a mirror. Then we were moved by an inward impulse, also communicated to us, to fall on our knees, while we repeated to ourselves: ‘O Most Holy Trinity, I adore Thee; my God, my God, I love Thee in the Most Blessed Sacrament.’”

Again the Lady spoke to them, “Say the Rosary every day to bring peace to the world and the end of the war.”

“She began then to elevate Herself serenely,” Lucia said, “going in the direction of the East until She disappeared in the immensity of space, still surrounded by a most brilliant light that seemed to open a path for Her through the myriad galaxies of stars.”

The children stood riveted to the spot for some time, their eyes fastened on the skies where they last saw the Lady. Gradually they returned to themselves, and looking around for the sheep, they found them grazing upon the sparse grass under the shade of the holm oaks. They noticed that the vegetables in the garden were not even touched. They were ever so happy, and grateful to the Lady for Her caring for the sheep, and thereby sparing them punishment at home; but their joy was supreme and beyond all description for having seen the exquisitely beautiful Mother of God. She was so wonderful, so lovely!

They felt the same joy now as when the Angel visited them, only when the Angel came, they felt a sort of annihilation before his presence; whereas, with Our Lady, they received strength and courage. “Instead of bodily exhaustion, we felt a certain physical strength,” Lucia described her reaction. “In place of annihilation before the Divine Presence, we felt exultation and joy; in place of difficulty in speaking we felt a certain communicative enthusiasm.”

The children spent the rest of the afternoon in the fields, living over and over again the short visit of Our Lady. They were so supremely happy, though mixed with deep concern. Our Lady seemed unhappy over something and they tried to fathom the meaning of Her every word. Meanwhile, Francisco pressed the girls with questions to learn everything She had said. They told him everything. When they told him that Our Lady promised that he would go to Heaven, bursting with joy, he folded his hands in front of his breast and exclaimed aloud, “O My Lady, I will say all the Rosaries You want.”

Lucia thought it best for them to keep the vision secret. She was old enough to realize how incredulous people are about such things, and more, she had had previous and bitter experience when the news of the Angel’s first visit had spread through the neighborhood. Francisco and Jacinta both agreed to Lucia’s suggestion. Lucia, however, doubted Jacinta’s ability to keep it secret, for the little girl’s face shone with joy and she would say every so often, “Ai que Senhora tão bonita! Oh, such a beautiful Lady!”

“I just know you are going to tell it to everyone,” Lucia warned Jacinta.

“Honest, I will not tell anyone,” Jacinta assured her.

“You won’t breathe a word, even to your mother?”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“We’ll keep it a secret,” they all agreed.

But how could little Jacinta keep it a secret, when she had seen such a beautiful Lady? When Lucia reached home, she said not a word to anyone about the Heavenly Visitor. After supper and prayers, she listened to the reading from the New Testament and went right to bed. How different were things in her cousins’ home! The Martos had gone to market that day to buy a pig. They were not home when Francisco and Jacinta returned from the fields. Francisco, meanwhile, busied himself in the yard but Jacinta waited at the door for her parents’ arrival. She had already forgotten Lucia’s solemn warning, “Not a word, even to your mother.”

Finally, her mother and father came in sight, her mother walking ahead, the father guiding the little animal.

“The child ran to me,” her mother described the scene, “and took hold of me as she had never before done. ‘Mother,’ she burst out excitedly, ‘I saw Our Lady today in the Cova da Iria.’ ‘My! My!’ I said. ‘Don’t tell me. You must certainly be a good little girl to see Our Lady!’

“Sad and disappointed, she followed me into the house, insisting over and over again, ‘But I did see Her!’ Then she began to tell me all that had happened, the flash, their fear, the light. She told me how beautiful and pretty the Lady was, how the Lady was surrounded by a blinding light and how the Lady asked her to say the Rosary every day. I put no stock in her words, saying ‘You are really silly. As if Our Lady would appear to a little girl like you!’

“Then I began to mix the feed for the little pig. My husband was standing by the pen, watching to see how it would get along with the other animals. After the animals were fed, he came into the house and sat by the kitchen fire to eat his supper. His brother-in-law, Antonio da Silva, was with us and all my children were there. Then, with some severity, I told Jacinta to repeat this story of Our Lady at the Cova da Iria. Right away she began, with all the simplicity in the world.”

“‘It was a Lady so beautiful, so pretty... dressed in white, with a chain of gold around Her neck extending down to Her breast... Her head was covered with a white mantle, yes, very white... I don’t know but it was whiter even than milk... which covered Her to the feet... all embroidered in gold... how beautiful! She kept Her hands together, in this way.’ The child rose from the stool, joined her hands at the breast, imitating the vision. ‘She had beads between Her fingers... Oh! what a beautiful Rosary She had... all of gold, brilliant as the stars at night with a crucifix that was shining. The Lady spoke a lot with Lucia, but never with me or with Francisco. I heard everything they said. Mother, it is necessary to say the Rosary every day! The Lady said this to Lucia. She said also that She would take the three of us to Heaven, Lucia, Francisco and me, too... and many other things I don’t know, but Lucia does. And when She entered into Heaven it seemed that the doors closed with such speed that Her feet were almost caught outside.”

Francisco confirmed the words of Jacinta. The girls in the family were most interested, but the boys all laughed at the story, echoing the words of their mother, “A good little saint you are, for Our Lady to appear to you.” Antonio da Silva tried to offer his explanation, “If the children saw a Lady all dressed in white... who could it be but Our Lady?”

The father, meanwhile, was mulling it over in his mind, trying to fit together the religious principles involved. Finally he said, “Since the beginning of time, Our Lady has appeared many times and in many ways. This is what has been helping us. If the world is in bad shape today, it would be worse, had there not been cases of this sort. The power of God is great! We do not yet know what it is, but it will be something... God’s will be done.” Later he confessed, “I believed what the children said was true almost at once. Yes, I believed immediately. For I was thinking that the children had received no education, not the least. Were it not for the help of Providence, they would never even have thought of it. Did I think the children might be lying? Not at all! Francisco and Jacinta were too much opposed to untruths.” Some time later, when the Bishop of Leiria published his official decision on the matter, he did no more than develop the arguments advanced by Ti Marto over his bowl of soup. Finally, they all retired, taking the father’s advice that they should leave it in God’s hands.

When Jacinta’s mother saw the next morning some of her neighbors, she related with a smiling condescension the children’s secrets. The news caused such a sensation that in no time at all it spread all through the village, finally reaching Lucia’s family. Maria dos Anjos was the first to hear the news. “Lucia,” she said to her sister, “I have heard people talking, saying that you saw Our Lady at the Cova da Iria. Is that true?”

“Who told you?” Lucia was so surprised that the news had gotten out. She stood there, thinking. Then, after a while, she mumbled, “And I had asked her so much not to tell anyone!”

“Why?”

“I don’t know if it is Our Lady. It was a most beautiful Lady.”

“And what did that Lady tell you?”

“She wanted us to go to the Cova da Iria for six months, without interruption, and then She would say who She is and what She wants.”

“Didn’t you ask Her who She was?”

“I asked Her where She was from; and She said to me, ‘I am from Heaven.’”

Lucia fell into great silence so that she would not have to tell anything, but Maria coaxed her so much that she told her more.

Lucia was very sad. At this point Francisco came along and confirmed Lucia’s suspicion that it was Jacinta who had wagged her tongue. Senhora Maria Rosa laughed at the whole thing. But when her eldest daughter told her what Lucia had said, she realized something serious was taking place. Calling Lucia immediately, she made her repeat the whole story. The gossip is true! She hated to believe it, but it was beginning to appear that her child was turning out to be a liar!

The afternoon of the fourteenth, the children went out as usual with their sheep. Lucia, frightened as she was by her mother’s unbelieving attitude, walked along in silence. Jacinta, too, was miserable, embarrassed because she had broken her promise to Lucia. The joy of the vision had been quickly destroyed by the ridicule and disbelief that had met their sincere account of the vision. Finally, they reached the Cova da Iria, and Jacinta sat on a rock silent, gloomy as could be. Lucia, feeling sorry at her little cousin’s grief, forced a smile and said, “Jacinta, let’s play.”

“I don’t want to play today!”

“Why?”

“Because I am thinking that the Lady told us to say the Rosary and make sacrifices for the conversion of sinners. Now, when we say the Rosary, we have to say every word in the Hail Mary and the Our Father.”

“Yes,” Lucia agreed, “but how are we going to make sacrifices?”

“We can give our lunch to the sheep,” Francisco suggested.

When noon came, they did give their lunches to the sheep. Hungry as they were, it was a hard thing to do, to give away the bread and cheese that their mothers had prepared for them. As the days went by, they thought it would be more pleasing to the Lady to give their lunches to some poor children instead of the sheep. When they themselves got hungry, Francisco climbed the holm oaks and picked acorns, even though they were still green. But this wasn’t enough of a sacrifice for Jacinta. She suggested that they should prefer the acorns from the oak trees, for they were more bitter.

“That first afternoon,” Lucia recalled, “we relished this delicious meal. Other times, we ate pine seeds, roots of bell-flowers (a little yellow flower on whose root grows a little ball the size of an olive), mulberries, mushrooms and some things that we picked from the roots of pine trees, but I don’t remember what they are called. We did have some fruit, if we happened to be near our parents’ property.”

Those days were long days for the children, for there was no song or peace of mind to help speed the hours away. Their greatest trial came from their families. Lucia’s lot was the worst. Mother, sisters, friends and neighbors, all heaped abuse upon the little one. Her father, however, refused to let the affair bother him. He shrugged his shoulders and called it just some more women’s gossip. Yet if he was indifferent, Lucia’s mother worried a great deal about it. She used to say, “And I was the one to be burdened with these things. This was all I needed for my old age. To think that I was always so careful to bring up my children to tell the truth, and now that girl comes up with such a lie.”

Nor did Senhora Maria Rosa content herself with mere talk. She took action to stop this carrying-on of her child. One day before Lucia went out with the sheep, her mother tried to force her to confess that she was lying. She tried caresses, threats, then resorted to the broomstick. Lucia’s answer was either silence or continued confirmation of what she had already told. Finally, in desperation, the mother commanded her, “Take the sheep out and think over during the day that I have never approved lying in my children, much less will I overlook such a lie as this. When you return in the evening, I will force you to meet those whom you deceived, — confess to them that you have lied and you will ask for their forgiveness.”

Lucia went away with the sheep, and when her companions saw her coming, for they had been waiting for her, they noticed she was crying. They ran to meet her. She told them what had happened and asked for their advice.

“Mother wants me to say that I lied. How can I say that? What am I going to do?”

“It’s all your fault,” Francisco said to Jacinta. “What did you tell it for?”

Jacinta fell on her knees crying, and stretching out her arms, begged to be forgiven. “It’s all my fault, but never again will I tell anybody else.”

In the evening Lucia’s mother sought again to obtain a confession, so she decided to take her to the Pastor. “When you get there,” she scowled at Lucia, “you fall on your knees before the priest, — tell him that you lied and ask to be forgiven. Do you hear? I don’t care what you think. Either you clear things up now, admit that you lied, or I will lock you in a room where you won’t ever again see the light of day. I have always succeeded in having my children tell the truth before. Am I going to let a thing of this sort pass in my youngest child? If only it wasn’t such an important matter!”

But how could the child say that she had not seen what she did see? The words of the Lady were proving true: “You are going to suffer a great deal. But the grace of God will be your comfort.”

II. The Children of Fatima

The eldest of the three children to whom Our Lady was to appear at Fatima was Lucia de Jesus dos Santos. Born on March 28, 1907, she was the youngest of the seven children of Senhor António dos Santos and his wife, Maria Rosa. They lived in the hamlet of Aljustrel which is situated as an oasis among the rocky hills of Aire, forming a part of the village of Fatima. Senhor dos Santos was a farmer whose small holdings were scattered about the hills of the vicinity.

Lucia was always healthy and strong. Although her features (a rather flat nose and a heavy mouth) suggested a frown, her sweet disposition and keen mind were reflected in a pair of dark, beautiful eyes which glistened under their heavy lids, making her most attractive.

She was particularly affectionate toward children and very early began to prove herself a help to mothers in minding their young ones. She was singularly gifted in holding the attention of the other children by her affection and resourcefulness. She is remembered also as being fond of dressing up. At the numerous religious festivals she was always among the most colorfully dressed of the girls. Moreover she loved these occasions for their gaiety, and especially for the dancing.

Lucia’s father was like many others of his class. He did his work, performed his religious duties, and spent his free time among his friends at the tavern, leaving the children completely in the care of his wife. And she was in every way equal to the task, even if perhaps a little strict in her discipline.

Devoutly religious, Senhora Maria Rosa was possessed of more than average common sense, and, unlike most of her neighbors, she could read. Thus she was able to instruct not only her own but also her neighbors’ children in the catechism. In the evenings she would read to the children from the Bible or from other pious books, and she unfailingly reminded them of their prayers, urging them particularly to remember the Rosary (which has long been the favorite devotion of the Portuguese). It should not be surprising, therefore, that Lucia was able to receive her First Holy Communion at the age of six instead of ten, as was the custom then.

Francisco and Jacinta, the other two main figures, were Lucia’s first cousins, the eighth and ninth children, respectively, born of the marriage of Senhor Manuel Marto and Senhora Olimpia Jesus dos Santos. This marriage was the second for Olimpia, whose first husband died after giving her two children. Olimpia was the sister of Senhor dos Santos, Lucia’s father.

Francisco, their youngest boy, was born on June 11, 1908. He grew to be a fine looking lad, having a disposition much like that of his father, Ti Marto, as the parent was usually called.

Lucia recalls particularly how calm and condescending Francisco was in contrast to the whimsical and light-hearted Jacinta. Though he loved to play games, it mattered little to him whether he won or lost. In fact there were times when Lucia shunned his company because his apparent lack of temperament irritated her. At these times she would exert her will over him making him sit still by himself for a period of time; then feeling sorry for him she would bring him into the game they might be playing, and Francisco would remain apparently unaffected by the treatment.

“Yet for all this,” his father recalls, “he was sometimes wilder and more active than his sister Jacinta. He could lose his patience and fuss like a young calf. He was absolutely fearless. He could go anywhere in the dark. He would play with lizards, and when he found a small snake he made it coil itself around his staff and he filled the holes in the rocks with ewe’s milk for the snakes to drink...”

Ti Marto, though illiterate, was a man of real wisdom and prudence. He had a remarkable sense of values, and he must have instilled into the mind and heart of Francisco a deep appreciation of the natural beauties of life. Young as the boy was he loved to contemplate the world around him: the vastness of the skies, the wonder of the stars, and the myriad beauties of nature at sunrise and sunset. Francisco loved music too. He used to carry a reed flute with which he would accompany the singing and dancing of his companions, his sister Jacinta and his cousin Lucia.

Jacinta, born March 11, 1910, was nearly two years younger than her brother. She resembled Francisco in features, but differed sharply in temperament. Her round face was smooth-skinned, and she had bright, clear eyes and a small mouth with thin lips, but a somewhat chubby chin. She was well proportioned, but not as robust as Francisco. A quiet untroublesome infant, she grew to be a lovable child, though not without an early tendency to selfishness. She took easily to a sense of piety, but was equally given to play. In fact it seems to have been her idea sometime before the apparitions to reduce their daily Rosary to a repetition of only the first two words of the Hail Mary, a practice which, of course, they hastily abandoned in due time.

Jacinta had a strong devotion to Lucia, and when it became the latter’s chore to take the sheep to the hills to graze, Jacinta pestered her mother until she was given a few sheep of her own so that she could accompany her cousin to the hills. Each morning before sunrise Senhora Olimpia would awaken Francisco and Jacinta. They would bless themselves as they got up and say a little prayer. Their mother, having prepared breakfast (usually a bowl of soup and some bread), would go to the barn to release the sheep, and then returning to the house, would prepare a lunch with whatever was at hand, probably bread with olives, codfish or sardines. By the time she had finished this, the children were ready to go to meet Lucia with her flock of sheep. Before the apparitions they used to meet with other children, but after the apparitions of the Angel these three stayed more or less by themselves.

Lucia would select the place for the day’s pasturing. Usually they went to the hill country, where Senhor dos Santos owned some property. Sometimes she took them out to the open country around Fatima. A favorite place in the summer, however, was the Cabeço, a grassy hill that also offered the shade of trees — olive, pine, and holm oak — as well as the Cave. It was much closer to home than the other pasturelands, and the children found it best for playing.

One of Lucia’s earlier companions recalls, “Lucia was a lot of fun and we loved to be with her because she was always so pleasant. We did whatever she told us to do. She was very wise, and she could sing and dance very well; and with her we could spend our whole day singing and dancing ...”

And Lucia remembers, even today, all their beautiful, simple songs. When they heard the sound of the church bells, or when the height of the sun told them it was noon, they stopped their playing and dancing to recite the Angelus. After eating their lunch they would say their Rosary and then go on with their playing. They would return home in the evening in time for supper, and after their night prayers they would go to bed.

I. The Angel

Fatima is a village in the very center of Portugal, about 70 miles north of Lisbon. It consists of several little hamlets hidden away in the elevation known as Serra de Aire. One such hamlet is known as Aljustrel; and it is here, and more especially in the surrounding rocky pasturelands, that our story is centered. On a day unnamed in any of the records, in the year 1915, four little girls had been playing in the fields. Lucia de Jesús dos Santos, a child of eight, was among them. When the sun told them that it was mid-day, they sat down to their lunch, and having finished, began the Rosary as was their custom even at that tender age. During the recitation all of them noticed the sudden appearance of a cloud in a form like that of a man, hovering above the treetops of the valley.

“My God, I believe, I adore, I hope, and I love Thee. I ask pardon for all those who do not believe in Thee, do not adore Thee, do not hope in Thee, do not love Thee.”

He repeated this prayer three times. Then he arose and said:

“Pray this way. The Hearts of Jesus and Mary are attentive to the voice of your supplications.”

The Angel disappeared... Perhaps it made a deeper impression upon us because it was the Angel’s first clear manifestation.”

Children being children... The three little cousins were content to spend all their time together.

When the summer months came... It was while resting there, during one early afternoon, that the Angel visited them again. Lucia tells us what happened:

“What are you doing?” The Angel suddenly appeared at their side.

“Pray! Pray a great deal! The hearts of Jesus and Mary have designs of mercy for you! Offer prayers and sacrifices unceasingly to the Most High!”

“But how are we to sacrifice ourselves?” Lucia said.

“Offer up everything within your power as a sacrifice to the Lord in an act of reparation for the sins by which He is offended; and of supplication for the conversion of sinners... Above all, accept and bear with submission the sufferings that the Lord may send you.”

Only Lucia and Jacinta heard the Angel’s words... Burning with curiosity, he wanted to learn what was said.

“Jacinta, tell me what the Angel said!”

“I will tell you tomorrow, Francisco. I am not able to speak now.”

...The next day as soon as he got up Francisco asked Jacinta, “Could you sleep last night? I was thinking of the Angel all night long trying to guess what he said to you.”

Lucia told him all the Angel said. The little lad could not grasp the meaning... “What is the Most High? What does he mean, ‘The hearts of Jesus and Mary are attentive to the voice of your supplications?’”

...It made Jacinta raise her voice, saying, “Take care! We must not speak much about these matters.”

...Jacinta used to say, “I don’t know what happens to me, but I cannot speak, play or sing...” and Francisco would remark, “Neither can I. What does it matter? The Angel is more important. Let us think about him.”

In later years, Lucia revealed: “The words of the Angel were like a light that made us realize who God was... From that moment, we began to offer to the Lord everything that mortified us...”

Autumn drew near... Then the Angel appeared to us for the third time. He was holding a chalice in his hand. A Host was over it, from which fell some drops of Blood into the chalice. Leaving the chalice and Host suspended in mid-air, he prostrated himself on the ground, repeating this prayer three times:

“Most Holy Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I adore Thee profoundly, and I offer Thee the Most Precious Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of the same Son Jesus Christ, present in the Tabernacles of the world, in reparation for all the sacrileges, outrages and indifferences by which He Himself is offended. And by the infinite merits of His Most Sacred Heart and through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I beg of Thee the conversion of poor sinners.”

The Angel then arose... while he said:

“Take and drink the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, horribly outraged by ungrateful men. Make reparation for their crimes and console your God.”

He prostrated himself again on the ground and again repeated with the children three times the prayer: “Most Holy Trinity...” Then he disappeared.

...Francisco was the first to break it. He had not heard the Angel speak and was anxious to learn everything.

“Lucia,” he said, “I know that the Angel gave you Holy Communion. But what did he give to me and Jacinta?”

“The same; it was Holy Communion,” Jacinta replied at once, overflowing with joy, “did you not see that it was the Blood that dropped from the Host?”

“I felt that God was within me,” he agreed, “but I did not know how.”

The three of them remained kneeling on the ground for a long while, repeating over and over again the inspired, heart-stirring prayer of the Angel.

Kun. Jonas de Marchi (I.M.C.)
Tikroji Fatimos istorija

Pilnas pasakojimas apie Fatimos apsireiškimus

1947

Skaityti PDF

Giesmė - Sveika, Marija, Motina Dievo

Sveika, Marija, Motina Dievo, dangaus mums duota naujoji Ieva! Atmint mus teikis savo širdyje, melsk už mus Dievą, Sveika, Marija!

Sveika, Mergele nesuteptoji, kančioj mus guodi, ligoj globoji; o kvepiančioji dangaus lelija, duok sveiką orą, - Sveika, Marija!

Tu žemei Dievą gimdei, penėjai, dangaus Valdovą, mūs Atpirkėją; tegul mūs šaliai palaima lyja, gink mus nuo bado, - Sveika, Marija!

Tu mirtį savo Sūnaus regėjai, ašaras graudžias po kryžium liejai; per savo kančią lyg Kalvariją duok mums kantrybės, -Sveika, Marija!

Šventa Mergele, pilna malonės, vienybę platink, sutaikink žmones, naikink rūstybę visų širdyje, suteik ramybę, -Sveika, Marija!

Motina šventa, visų tyriausia, duok nekaltybės dorą brangiausią, naikink širdyje pikto vergiją, duok Dievo meilę, - Sveika, Marija!

O Karaliene visų šventųjų, išgirsk meldimą žmonių kaltųjų, neleisk mums žūti baisioj ugnyje, nuvesk į dangų, - Sveika, Marija!

Litanijos ir maldos

1. Švč. Kristaus Kraujo litanija | Brangiausiojo Kristaus Kraujo litanija
2. Jėzaus Vardo litanija
3. Švč. Jėzaus Širdies litanija
4. Švč. Mergelės Marijos litanija
5. Šventosios Dvasios litanija
6. Maldos už krikščionių vienybę
7. Malda vienybėje su Dievo Motina Marija
8. Mažesniųjų brolių ordino maldos
9. Mano atsidavimo Jėzui kaip Gelbėtojui ir Viešpačiui malda
10. Dievo Tėvo litanija
11. Maldos už kunigus

Giesmė- "Ubi cáritas"

Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est.

Congregavit nos in unum Christi amor.
Exultemus, et in ipso iucundemur.
Timeamus, et amemus Deum vivum.
Et ex corde diligamus nos sincero.

Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est.

Simul ergo cum in unum congregamur:
Ne nos mente dividamur, caveamus.
Cessent iurgia maligna, cessent lites.
Et in medio nostri sit Christus Deus.

Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi est.

Simul quoque cum beatis videamus,
Glorianter vultum tuum, Christe Deus:
Gaudium quod est immensum, atque probum,
Saecula per infinita saeculorum. Amen.

Kur gailestingumas ir meilė, Dievas ten yra.

Surinko mus į viena Kristaus meilė.
Džiūgaukim, ir jame jaukiai būkime.
Bijokime ir mylėkime gyvąjį Dievą.
Ir iš širdies mylėkim vieni kitus nuoširdžiai.

Kur gailestingumas ir meilė, Dievas ten yra.

Kaip kad taigi esame į viena surinkti:
Kad mintimis nesusiskaldytume, saugokimės.
Tegul liaujasi blogio rykštės, tesiliauja ginčai.
Ir mūsų tarpe tebūnie Kristus Dievas.

Kur gailestingumas ir meilė, Dievas ten yra.

Kad kartu su palaimintaisiais matytume,
Šlovingiausią veidą tavo, Kristau Dieve:
Džiaugsmas kuris yra neišmatuojamas ir patikrintas,
Amžiais per begalinius amžius. Amen.

Dievo malonė

Dangaus malonė nuostabi, ji palietė mane! Buvau paklydęs tamsumoj, dabar radau Tave. Mane išmokė Tau tarnaut, ramybę davė man. Kokia brangi man buvo ji, kai suradau Tave!

Kiek daug pavojų ir kliūčių sutikęs aš buvau! Malonė vedė mus lig šiol, ji ves mus ir toliau. Garbė Tau, mūsų Viešpatie, garbė per amžius Tau, Garbė Tau, Dieve, ir šlovė, ir mūsų meilė Tau.

Pasitikėkime Dievu: Jis mus visur globos, Jis mūs paguoda ir viltis dabar ir visados. O, Marija, o švenčiausia, mus apgaubk malone savo. Sieloms duok nors lašą laimės, tos kur žemėje nerado. Tu šventa, Tu gera, Tu mūsų prieglauda tikra. Tu šventa...

Pašvenčiamoji malonė Kristuje intensyviai ir ekstensyviai jau nuo pat Jo pradėjimo momento viršija bet kokią net ir galutinę angelų ir žmonių malonę, net ir paėmus visus juos kartu. Nes malonė Kristuje yra pagal mąstą hipostatinės vienybės [vienybės dieviškajame asmenyje] ir kaip galvoje, iš kurios malonė teka net ir į angelus; nes kaip paaiškės vėliau, Kristus yra ir angelų galva, mažų mažiausiai atsitiktinės malonės ir garbės atžvilgiu, pagal tai, kad angelai yra Jo tarnai Dievo karalystėje. Taip Jėzus pasakė Mato evangelijoje 13,41: „Žmogaus Sūnus pasiųs savo angelus ir jie išrankios iš Dievo karalystės visus papiktinimus, ir tuos, kurie daro neteisybę, ir pasiųs juos į ugnies kaminą“. Taip pat Morkaus 13,27: „Pasiųs savo angelus ir surinks savo išrinktuosius“.

Iš to išplaukia, kad Kristaus malonės laipsnis yra aukštesnis negu visų angelų ir žmonių, net ir palaimintųjų, kartu paėmus, panašiai kaip saulė intensyviai turi daugiau šviesos, negu bet kokie kiti žemesni šviesuliai, o deimantas daugiau vertas negu nesuskaičiuojami paprasti akmenys. Taip pat sakoma apie palaimintąją Mergelę Mariją, kad jos pradinė malonės pilnatvė intensyviai viršijo bet kokią galutinę malonę (bet ne garbę) angelų ir žmonių, paimtų kartu, tokiu būdu ji Bažnyčios vadinama angelų karaliene, ir apie Ją sakoma: „virš angelų chorų yra išaukštinta šventoji Dievo Gimdytoja iki dangiškųjų karalysčių“.

Be to, atrodytų, kad vienuolinių ordinų steigėjų gautoji malonė viršija, kas liečia steigimus, jų narių malonę, kartu paimtų, ta prasme, kad tie bendraminčiai, be specialiai Dievo įkvėpto steigėjo, tokio steigimo nebūtų padarę, o iš kitos pusės Dievo siųstas tam darbui steigėjas būtų galėjęs tą padaryti ir su kitais bendraminčiais. Taip šventojo Benedikto malonė, ar šventojo Dominyko, ar šventojo Pranciškaus atrodytų viršija visų jų vienuolijų narių malonę. Taip pat šventas Tomas vertingesnis negu visi jo komentatoriai, net visi kartu paimti. Tas tuo lengviau suprantama, kadangi malonė yra kokybė ir todėl jos tobulumas yra kokybinis, o ne kiekybinis; taigi malonė duota dešimčiai talentų verta daugiau negu dešimt malonių, kurių kiekviena atitinka vieną talentą. Taip vienas šventasis, kaip šventasis Arso klebonas, daugiau gali ir nuveikia negu daug tikinčiųjų ir net kunigų, kurie yra žemesniame meilės laipsnyje.

Taip šventas Tomas parodo IIa IIae q. 24 a. 5, kad meilė (ir tą patį galima pasakyti apie pašvenčiamąją malonę) intensyviai nedidėja pridedant meilę prie meilės; tai būtų dauginti meilę, o ne didinti; bet ji didėja per didesnį įsišaknijimą subjekte, arba kalbant be metaforos, per didesnį subjekto aktualizavimą arba ryžtą, aba per didesnį prikibimą prie jo; nes akcidencijos esmė - būti prikibus [inhaerere].

Visa tai yra viena ir tas pat kokybių intensyvumui išreikšti. Naujas meilės laipsnis ir tobulesnis subjekto aktualizavimo bei užsikabinimo jame būdas yra tas pats.

Tai jei imsime aukštesnį meilės laipsnį kokybiškai o ne kiekybiškai, lengvai suprasime, kad pašvenčiamoji Kristaus malonė intensyviai viršija bet kokią galutinę žmonių bei angelų malonę, net ir kartu paimtų. Ir nuo pat pradžių ji viršijo jų garbę.

Savo komentare Jono evangelijai 1,16, lect. 10, šventasis Tomas moko, kad malonė duodama triguba pilnatve...

„Yra pakankamumo malonė [plenitudo sufficientiae] per kurią kažkas yra pakankamas nuopelningiems bei iškiliems veiksmams, kaip [malonės pilnatvė] šventajame Stepone. Taip pat yra pertekliaus pilnatvė [plenitudo redundantiae] per kurią palaimintoji Mergelė iškilesnė už visus šventuosius, dėl nuopelnų aukštumo bei gausumo. Ir yra efektyvumo ir apstumo pilnatvė [plenitudo efficientiae et affluentiae], kuri priskiriama tik žmogui Kristui, kaip malonės šaltiniui. Ir taip palaimintoji Mergelė išliejo malonę mums, bet Ji jokiu būdu nėra malonės kūrėja… Kristuje esanti malonės pilnatvė yra visų malonių esančių visuose protinguose kūriniuose priežastis“.

— Garrigou Lagrange OP, De Christo salvatore, De plenitudine gratiae in Christo, p. 210–211.

Kun. dr. Jonas Gutauskas (1906)

kun. dr. Jonas Gutauskas (1906)
Gimė	1906 m. sausio 16 d., Katlėriškiai, Utenos apskr.
Mirė	1986 m. lapkričio 6 d., Misisoga, Ontarijas, Kanada
Palaidotas	Šv. Jono lietuvių kapinėse, Misisogoje
Tėvai	Vincentas Gutauskas ir Veronika Rozalija Pavilonytė
Veikla	Kunigas, teologas, pedagogas, poetas

Jonas Gutauskas

gimė 1906 m. sausio 16 d. Katlėriškiuose, Anykščių r. sav.- mirė 1986 m. lapkričio 6 d. Misisogoje, Ontarijo provincijoje, Kanadoje. Tai – Katalikų Bažnyčios kunigas, teologas, pedagogas ir poetas. Nuo 1949 m. iki gyvenimo pabaigos tarnavo kunigu Kanadoje. Įkūrė Šv. Kazimiero lietuvių parapiją Ontarijuje, buvo aktyvus lietuvių bendruomenės veikėjas, parašė religinių knygų ir poezijos rinkinių.

Jaunystė

Gimė 1906 m. sausio 16 d. Vincento Gutausko ir Veronikos Rozalijos Pavilonytės šeimoje. Po šešių dienų  Debeikių bažnyčioje pakrikštijo klebonas Povilas Šimkevičius. Krikštatėviai – Jonas ir Teklė Titeniai. Nuo 1915 m. gyveno Surdegio k., Anykščių r. sav., 1925 m. baigė šešias klases Utenos „Saulės“ gimnazijoje.

Studijos

Pabaigęs gimnaziją, 1925–1928 m. Gutauskas studijavo Kauno kunigų seminarijoje, o 1928–1932 m. tęsė Vytauto Didžiojo universiteto Teologijos-filosofijos fakultete, kur baigė teologijos magistro studijas.

Kunigystė

1932 m. gegužės 21 d. suteikti kunigo šventimai. Dvejus metus, 1932–1934 m., J. Gutauskas tarnavo vikaru, Pandėlyje (Rokiškio r. sav.) ir Rozalime (Pakruojo r. sav.). Būdamas vienerius metus kunigu, 1933 m., apgynė disertaciją „Vladimiro Solovjovo mokslas apie Romos popiežiaus primatą“ ir gavo teologijos licenciatą iš Kauno VDU.

1934–1938 m. Kupiškio progimnazijoje, buvo kapelionas, lotynų ir vokiečių kalbų mokytojas ir prisijungė prie Kupiškio gimnazijos įkūrimo. 1938–1940 m. - Biržų gimnazijos kapelionas ir lotynų kalbos mokytojas. 1940 m. gavo teologijos mokslo daktaro laipsnį VDU.

1940–1941 m., Panevėžio katedros vikaras, mokė tikybos ir pradinių klasių mokinius. 1941–1944 m. Kauno tarpdiecezinės kunigų seminarijos ir Kauno VDU profesorius (dėstė patristiką, orientinę teologiją, homiletiką, filosofijos istoriją). Gutauskas pirmininkavo 1942 m. jo įsteigtam orientalistiniam būreliui „Institutum Russicum“[3]. Būrėlis tyrė Rytų Bažnyčios: ortodoksų (stačiatikių (gr. Ὀρθοδοξía, liet. stačiatikybė) bei Rytų apeigų katalikų (unitų) doktriną ir padėtį, ypač Sovietų Sąjungoje.

Išeivijoje

1944 m. pasitraukė į Vakarus. Gyveno Austrijoje, Vokietijoje, vėliau dėstė Kolumbijoje, nuo 1949 m. apsigyveno Kanadoje. Gresiant antrajai sovietinei okupacijai, kun. J. Gutauskas traukėsi į Vakarus. 1944 m. gyveno Austrijoje ir Vokietijoje, kur aptarnavo Meteno (vok. Metten) ir Kirchheim-Teck (vok. Kirchheim unter Teck) lietuvius katalikus. Pasibaigus Antrajam pasauliniu karui, kun. J. Gutauskas 1946–1948 m. buvo (III) Popiežiaus misijos tautinės delegatūros lietuviams narys, jaunimo auklėjimo ir mokyklų patarėjas. 1948 m. išvyko į Pietų Ameriką, kur 1948–1949 m. Medeljino Kolumbijos kunigų seminarijoje dėstė patrologiją. Kanadoje

1949 m. Šv. Jono Krikštytojo parapijos klebonas, Toronte, Kanadoje. 1949–1952 m. Ateitininkų federacijos Toronto skyriaus dvasios tėvas. 1949–1952 m. Kanados lietuvių katalikų kunigų vienybės organizacijos iždininkas, valdybos pirmininkas, vienas iš Kanados lietuvių savaitraščio „Tėviškės žiburiai“ steigėjų, lietuvių katalikų leidyklos „Krikščionis gyvenime“ pradininkas ir pirmasis pirmininkas. 1949 m. buvo Kanados lietuvių bendruomenės (KLB) steigimo iniciatorius, o 1952–1954 m., 1954–1955 m. ir 1955–1957 m. – KLB krašto valdybos narys.

1953 m. pedagogikos mokslų daktaro laipsnis, Lavalio universitetas.

1959 m. Šv. Kazimiero lietuvių katalikų parapijos Delyje (Delhi, Ontarijo provincija, Kanada), buvusiose Šv. Jono Brebėfo ir kompanjonų bažnyčios patalpose įkūrėjas. Nuo 1960 m. lapkričio 19 d. organizavo maldos namų įrengimą ir jų pašventinimą atgaivino ir globojo vietos lietuvišką mokyklą, buvo jos mokytojas ir dvasios tėvas. 1961 m. birželio 17 d. organizavo Kanados lietuvių katalikų vaikų kongresą Delyje.

1986 m. Palaidotas Šv. Jono lietuvių kapinėse, esančios Misisogoje, Kanadoje.

       Šeima

        Jono Gutausko broliai ir seserys:

1. Anelė Gutauskaitė-Judickienė (1902–1984) – ūkininkė,
2. Klemensas Gutauskas (1903–?),
3. Juozapas Gutauskas (1908–?) – mirė jaunystėje,
4. Kazys Gutauskas (1909–1995) – dainininkas,
5. Vladislovas Gutauskas (1913–?) – vairuotojas,
6. Monika Gutauskaitė-Rudienė (1916–2007) – emigrantė JAV,
7. Vytautas Gutauskas (1918–1919) – mirė kūdikystėje,
8. Vanda Gutauskaitė-? (1920–1993) – medikė.

Kūriniai

1. Dangaus tarnyboj: primicijų dovanėlė, 1932 m.
2. Vladimiro Solovjovo mokslas apie Romos popiežiaus primatą (teologinis traktatas), 1940 m.
3. Didysis svečias (tikybos vadovėlis), 1948 m.
4. Vaiko dievas ir religija, religinis vaiko auklėjimas ryšium su jo dvasine raida (disertacijos pranc. „L’education religieuse de l’enfant en relation avec son developpement mental“ vertimas), 1953 m. 
5. Dievo vaikas: maldaknygė vaikams, 1962 m.
6. Šv. Kazimiero lietuvių Romos katalikų parapija : 1-ojo dešimtmečio istorija, 1959–1969 (jubiliejinis leidinys), 1969 m.
7. Krikščionybė Lietuvoje: iš mūsų religinės praeities ir dabarties (lituanistinių mokyklų 8-ojo skyriaus tikybos vadovėlis, kitas leidimas – 1992 m.), 1973.
8. Dievas šiandien: Dievo samprata ir jo buvimas, žmogaus su Dievu ir be Dievo likimas (teologinis traktatas), 1973 m.
9. Didžiųjų Bendrijos tėvų mintys: senosios krikščionių literatūros antologija tikėjimo, doros ir krikščioniškosios pasaulėžiūros klausimais, 1979 m.
10. Tik vienas šuolis (eilėraščiai), 1984 m.
11. Tikiu gyvenimą – ne mirtį (eilėraščiai), 1986 m.

Nuorodos

• Draugas, 1986-11-22, Priedas Nr.229 (42) (archyvas)
• Mūsų Lietuva, 1977-06-30, Nr. 26
• ELIP, kun. Jonas Gutauskas 1906 m.
• kun. Jono Gutausko fondas (tekstiniai įrašai, grafinė medžiaga)
• Pasaulio anykštėnų bendrijos žinynas – kun. Jonas Gutauskas 1906 m.
• J. Gudonis, „Vatikano Tautinės delegatūros vadmuo“, Aidai, gruodžio numeris 26, 1949 m.
• Jonas Gutauskas „Religijos mokytojai tipologiniu požiūriu“, Auka, 1948 m.

Literatūra

1. Karkauskienė, Aldona. Gimtinė. Mirę kaimai ir žmonių likimai. – Kaunas: UAB Amber Print, 2014. – 700 p. (Pasaulio anykštėnų bendrijos žinynas – Aldona Karkauskienė)

Kaip galime žinoti, kad Dievas yra?

Dažnai žmonės sako: "Įrodykite man, kad Dievas yra!" Galbūt jie nujaučia, kad nėra būdų tai įrodyti. Ir jie teisūs. Bet aš norėčiau irgi paklausti: "Ar galite man įrodyti, kad jūsų mama jus myli? Ar galite įrodyti, kad ji mylės jus rytoj ar dar vėliau? Įrodykite man, kad rytoj ryte ji neužnuodys jums pusryčių!"Ar kas nors gali tai įrodyti? Abejoju. Mes neturime įtikinančio patvirtinimo, kad motina mus myli, bet turime aiškų pagrindą tuo tikėti – ji mylėjo mus praeityje; ji suprato mus; ji rūpinosi mumis, kai mes patys savimi negalėjome pasirūpinti. Tai liudija, kad ji nenustos mūsų mylėti ir rytoj. Tačiau nei jūs, nei aš to įrodyti negalime. Vietoje to mes savo išvadas grindžiame akivaizdumu. Todėl leiskite man pateikti keletą akivaizdžių liudijimų (ne įrodymų), kad Dievas yra. 

Pirma, mes gyvename pasaulyje, kuris yra vieningas, tvarkingas ir suplanuotas. Planas ir tvarka neatsiranda atsitiktinai. Jie kyla iš mąstančio proto. Žymus fizikas Albertas Einšteinas kartą pasakė: "Mano religija susideda iš nuolankaus susižavėjimo neaprėpiama aukščiausia dvasia, kuri apreiškia save mažiausiose dalelytėse, kokias mes galime suvokti savo menkais protais. Tas gilus ir tikras pajautimas, kad yra aukštesnė protinga jėga, kuri atsiskleidžia nesuvokiamoje visatoje, sudaro mano supratimą apie Dievą. "Truputį paprastesnį, ne taip giliamintiškai išreikštą liudijimą pateikia profesorius Edvinas Karlstonas, Prinstono universiteto biologas: "Galimybė, kad gyvybė atsirado atsitiktinai, yra lygi galimybei savaime susidaryti žodynui po sprogimo spaustuvėje."

Antra, matydami tvarką aplink save, mes trokštame tvarkos savyje. Trokštame tikslo ir prasmės. Turime vidinį poreikį suprasti savo gyvenimo tikslą. Mūsų troškimas gyventi prasmingai kyla iš Kūrėjo, kuris sukūrė mus tam tikslui.

Trečia, iš kur atsirado žmogus kaip asmenybė? Gyva neatsiranda iš negyvo. Asmenybę nesuformuoja tik medžiaga, energija ar dar kažkokia beasmenė jėga. Kiekvienas iš mūsų esame asmenybė, ir tai yra daugiau nei paprastas cheminių elementų mūsų smegenyse išvardinimas. Virš mūsų asmenybės stovi ne beasmenis atsitiktinumas ir likimas, bet asmeniškas Kūrėjas.

Ketvirta, moralinių vertybių buvimas rodo, jog tikrovė yra daugiau, nei tik vien medžiaga ir energija. Žmonių supratimas apie grožį ir harmoniją nurodo į Kūrėją, kuris sukūrė šias vertybes ir sugebėjimą atpažinti bei įvertinti jas.

Mistinis Dievo miestas

Sr. María de Jesús de Ágreda (1602–1665) buvo vienuolė iš Mergelės Marijos vienuolyno Ispanijoje, žinoma dėl savo mistinių vizijų ir raštų. Jos garsiausias kūrinys – Mistinis Dievo miestas (La Mística Ciudad de Dios) – pateikia detalią Dievo Motinos gyvenimo apžvalgą, atskleistą per mistines patirtis. Veikalas aprašo Mergelės Marijos gimimą, dorybes, sielos išbandymus ir santykį su Dievu, įtraukiant vizijas, dialogus su angelais ir šventaisiais. Šis kūrinys laikomas vienu įspūdingiausių katalikų mistikos tekstų XVII amžiuje ir buvo plačiai skaitomas kaip dvasingumo šaltinis bei pamokymas tikintiesiems.

3. 1855 leidimas

Johann Baptist Hirscher
Das Leben der seligsten Jungfrau und Gottesmutter Maria

zu Lehr und Erbauung für Frauen und Jungfrauen

1855

Skaityti PDF

2. 1902 leidimas

Sor María de Jesús de Ágreda
Mystical City of God: Life of the Virgin Mother of God, manifested to Sister Mary of Jesus

1902

Skaityti PDF

1. 1914 leidimas

Sor María de Jesús de Ágreda
Mystical City of God: Life of the Virgin Mother of God, manifested to Sister Mary of Jesus

1914

Skaityti PDF

Maldos kova

Malda yra malonės dovana ir tvirtas mūsų atsakas. Ji visada reikalauja mūsų pastangų. Didieji maldos žmonės Senojoje Sandoroje iki Kristaus, taip pat Dievo Motina ir šventieji drauge su Jėzumi mus moko, kad malda yra kova. Kova su kuo? Su savimi pačiais ir su klastinguoju gundytoju, kuris daro viską, kad tik atitrauktų žmogų nuo maldos, nuo vienybės su Dievu. Meldžiamės taip, kaip gyvename, nes gyvename taip, kaip meldžiamės. Kas nenori nuolat gyventi pagal Kristaus Dvasią, tas neįpranta melstis Jo vardu. Krikščionio naujojo gyvenimo „dvasinė kova“ yra neatskiriama nuo maldos kovos.

Prieštaros maldai

Maldos kovoje turime priešintis mūsų pačių ir mus supančių žmonių klaidingai maldos sampratai. Vieni maldą laiko grynai psichologiniu reiškiniu, kiti – pastangomis susikaupti siekiant vidinės tuštumos. Treti maldą tapatina su apeiginiais veiksmais ir žodžiais. Daugelio krikščionių pasąmonėje malda yra užsiėmimas, nederantis su visa, ką jiems reikia daryti: jie neturi jai laiko. Ieškantieji malda Dievo greitai nusivilia, nes nežino, kad malda kyla ir iš Šventosios Dvasios, ne vien iš jų pačių.

Mes taip pat turime priešintis „šio pasaulio“ galvosenai, kuri mus perskverbs, jei nebūsime budrūs; pavyzdžiui, jog tikra esą tik tai, ką gali patikrinti protas ir mokslas (tuo tarpu malda yra mūsų sąmonei ir pasąmonei nesuvokiamas slėpinys); arba kad vertinga tėra gamyba ir jos našumas (tuo tarpu malda neproduktyvi, vadinasi, nenaudinga); arba kad tiesos, gėrio ir grožio kriterijai yra juslingumas ir pasitenkinimas (tuo tarpu maldai – „Grožio meilei“ (philokalia) – terūpi gyvojo ir tikrojo Dievo garbė); pakritikuoji aktyvizmą, ir štai malda pateikiama kaip bėgimas iš pasaulio (tuo tarpu krikščioniškoji malda nei pasitraukiama iš istorijos, nei nutolstama nuo gyvenimo).

Pagaliau turime priešintis dalykams, kuriuos suvokiame kaip maldos nesėkmę: tai ir suglebimas dėl dvasinės sausros, ir liūdesys, kad ne viską atiduodame Viešpačiui, nes „turime daug turto“17; nusivylimas, jog nesame išklausomi, kaip norėtume; tai ir įžeista puikybė, stiprinama mūsų, nusidėjėlių, nevertumo jausmo; tai susierzinimas, kad melstis turime nesavanaudiškai, ir t. t. Išvada visada ta pati: kam tuomet melstis? Kad nugalėtume tas kliūtis, turime stengtis būti nuolankūs, pasitikintys ir ištvermingi.