While on a walk this afternoon, I prayed the Rosary. The sky was a cloudless winter blue. Lofty trees baring branches, reaching high.
Our nation is in turmoil, and I prayed.
The first Sorrowful Mystery is The Agony in the Garden.
Our nation is in agony, fearful of what lies ahead, reeling from the violent attack on our Capitol last week. I continue to walk.
“Notre Père, qui es aux cieux, que ton nom soit sanctifié, que ton règne vienne, que ta volonté soit faite sure la terre comme au ciel…”
The second Sorrowful Mystery is The Scourging at the Pillar
Our country is enduring scourging, great suffering, the whipcords of lies and delusion. I continue to walk.
“Padre Nuestro, que estás en el cielo, santificado sea tu nombre, venga a nosotros tu reino, hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo…”
The third Sorrowful Mystery is The Crowning with Thorns
Our Statue of Liberty bears the pain caused by thorns of division, wrapped tightly around her crown. I continue to walk.
“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven…”
The Fourth Sorrowful Mystery is The Carrying of the Cross
Our democracy carries the heavy crossbeam of insurrection on its worn but steady shoulders. I continue to walk.
“Notre Père, qui es aux cieux, que ton nom soit sanctifié, que ton règne vienne, que ta volonté soit faite sur la terre comme au ciel…”
The Fifth Sorrowful Mystery is The Crucifixion, Death on the Cross
Our nation’s civil unity has died, been crucified. We await its resurrection. I continue to walk.
“Padre Nuestro, que estás en el cielo, santificado sea tu nombre, venga a nosotros tu reino, hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo…”
Bare branches above, against the powerful blue sky of hope, will bloom again in season.
Amen.
Pondering Christ 