Various helps: “What shall I offer you at your Incarnation?”

  • nativityofchrist.jpgMy third help out of some recent bad times was a book I came across by acci­dent. “Out of the Depths Have I Cried ** ” by Mpn. PHILIP and Fr. Joseph J. Allen is a book that every­one should keep in one of those glass cases you see fire extin­guish­ers in. There should be a lit­tle ham­mer next to it, and it should read, “Break glass in case of despair.” I was hop­ing to try to present a good overview of the book, but I’m afraid I’d never do it jus­tice. And so I’m going to change gears and pass along Mpn. PHILIP’s poem enti­tled “Med­i­ta­tion on the Incar­na­tion” that serves as an intro­duc­tion. It’s entirely sea­sonal, and as for all the other help “Out of the Depths” has to offer, you’ll just have to take my word for it:

    Lord,
    What shall I offer at your Incar­na­tion in return for your infi­nite love?
    I have nei­ther gold nor sil­ver, nei­ther myrrh nor frank­in­cense.
    My house is with­out a roof. I have no room for you; not even a manger.
    My soul is even darker than the clouds of my pas­sion.
    My eyes are too dim to look beyond the hori­zon of myself.
    Help me behold your bright star; “For in thy light we shall see light.”

    Lord,
    You have been knock­ing on my door for many years,
    But I never dared let you in, because my gar­ment is not white as snow.
    For­give me if I do not invite you to my table,
    For my table is full of every­thing you despise.
    I have denied you more than Peter.
    I have doubted you more than Thomas.
    I have betrayed you more than Judas.
    My hands are empty. My lips are not clean to sing your praise.
    And my heart is wrin­kled with sor­row like a with­ered leaf under autumn’s wind.

    Lord,
    The only thing I can offer you at your Incar­na­tion is myself.
    Drown me in the ocean of your love.
    Feed me with your heav­enly bread, for the bread of this world will never sat­isfy my hunger.
    Quench my thirst with your divine foun­tain, for the water of this earth will never sat­isfy my thirst.
    Give me your eyes to see what you see, your ears to hear what you hear and your heart to love what you love.
    Take me with you to Mount Tabor and let me bathe in your eter­nal light.
    “Cre­ate a clean heart in me. Cast me not away from Thy face. Restore unto me the joy of Thy sal­va­tion, and strengthen me with a per­fect spirit.”
    Teach me how to pray in sim­ple words, for only through prayers may I over­come my lone­li­ness.
    Help me to care for the needy, the oppressed, the orphans, the sin­ners and the despised whom you love.
    As I kneel before your manger with love and humil­ity,
    I beseech you to lis­ten to my prayers.


    Related posts:

    1. Var­i­ous helps: Awakening
    2. Today in Beth­le­hem hear I
    3. What is our daily bread?
    4. St. John of Kro­n­stadt, on prayer
    5. The Lord will have mercy; the Lord has had mercy

    December 13th, 2009 | Grace | 2 Comments |

2 Responses and Counting...

  • Ali 12.13.2009

    I found your site a while ago, and I really enjoy what you write. I even pur­chased Spir­i­tual Coun­sels because you wrote about it!

    I have been a Chris­t­ian for almost six years, and an Ortho­dox Chris­t­ian for almost two. This book sounds like a great help for bad times. Recently I was forced to deal with some per­sonal issues (which I still am deal­ing with to some extent though not as pro­foundly) that caused me to cry out to God in a way that I never have before. I turned to Scrip­ture for help, but this book sounds like it would also be help­ful for hard times. Because I am not sure I will ever be one of those peo­ple who will ever be com­pletely happy. I have pro­found joy and hap­pi­ness that I know Christ; but I am not a truly opti­mistic per­son in general.

    Thanks for this posting

  • Grace

    Ali:
    It really lifts my spir­its to know that pass­ing things along this way can do some good. God be praised for all the means by which He grants us aid.

    I know what you mean about not being opti­mistic. I have a weird dual­ity; I tend to put an absurdly happy face on for peo­ple, but my mind tends just the oppo­site. One of the things I love about the Ortho­dox Church is its accep­tance of spir­i­tual strug­glers. Protes­tants seemed to be telling me I should be singing and danc­ing all day long, and it made me miserable.

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