Author: Theresa - HHC

A Tribute To Our Founder

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It has been one year since the passing of our dear Bro. Mark and being this is something in the likeness of his first feast day (however “un-official”) we, The Hermits of The Holy Cross, would like to offer this tribute in his honor…

May God grant him eternal repose and give comfort to his family and all his remaining loved ones here on Earth!

From Mark: “I wrote this jazzy piece, “Sunset Drivin”, during sunset one evening. I am hoping it will feel like that to you as if you are driving during a beautiful sunset. May it bring you a bit of peace.”

The Hermits Devotion to the Holy Rosary

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As our founder and dear Bro. Mark enjoys his peaceful repose in the arms of God, it seems his devotion to our Lady is becoming more and more alive within all of us Hermits of The Holy Cross. We find ourselves quite drawn to meet together on Zoom and pray the Rosary weekly in response to this Call. As we are all in differing Counties, States and Provinces, we are ever grateful for this type of Technology which has made possible the continuation of this Ministry of Prayer even apart from the maintaining of this blog.

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Hermits of The Desert

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Abba Ammoun of Rhaithou asked Abba Sisoes, “When I read the Scriptures, my mind is wholly concentrated on the words so that I may have something to say if I am asked.” The old man said to him, “That is not necessary; it is better to enrich yourself through purity of spirit and to be without anxiety and then to speak.”

The Desert Fathers

For Lobito

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This Saturday, Aug 14th, will be the first time we, The Hermits of The Holy Cross, will be celebrating the birth of our dear Bro. Mark without him. I wish to present our contribution to this celebration by choosing from his selection of musical tunes a piece he not only wrote and played, but even dedicated.

So, from the heart of our Founder to you All… with our gratitude to God and to you for all your prayers and support…

“Lobito, I created this music for you that each note may wash over you and fill you with peace. Thank you for your kindness and I wish you well.
Please pray for me when you have a minute. I’ll be praying for you.
Your friend,
broMark”

An Enraptured Soul speaks on Spiritual Poverty

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Life is Liturgy Unceasing!
Lectio Divina is Life;                                                                                                                                                        Every Word an utterance of the Divine.

Asceticism is Life lived in the                                                                                                                                                  Absolute Poverty of the Now;                                                                                                                                        Empty of past and future,                                                                                                                                                      Empty of reflections and memories,
Empty of expectations or desires for rewards,                                                                                                                Empty of imaginings and visions,                                                                                                                                           Empty of spiritual possessions
Empty of satisfactions and distractions,                                                                                                                         Empty even of a way of one’s own or a plan
For Only In the Emptiness of this NOW                                                                                                                                 Is the Fullness of the All to be found.                                                                                                                                             To be anywhere else is to be no-where,                                                                                                                           Lost in the daydream of Illusion.

Thoughts still arise, Ideas still pretend importance.                                                                                                              What is one to do?                                                                                                                                                               

Hold to the Loveliness Beyond!
Listen to that Silence as to a Symphony;                                                                                                                      Simply watching, Simply waiting, Simply aware,                                                                                                                Being, in Love!
                                        
                                                              (Theresa-HHC)

A Searching Shepherd

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Reflection – Submitted by Roberta-HHC

A Searching Shepherd –

God made thorns, he told himself. Thorns are good. But they hurt. They scrape the skin to blood. God made thorns, but why? Oh why?

God made rain, but it doesn’t seem to like the desert. Rocks are hot, and the sand is burning. The sand is cracked from thirst. Now, where have the sheep got themselves to?

I am the shepherd of the sheep, says the Lord. I search. To search is who I am. I am the one who wanders, the great walking one, the one who sleeps in the cold and culls the burrs out of their wool. Yes, I know—they cannot be recommended for intelligence. This is a small brain we are talking about. But I am their shepherd.

They are the objects of my love.

I take them up in my arms, my tired arms, my bleeding arms. And they are more to me than rest and beauty and food and light—my own, my flock, my creation.

And I love them. I bring them into cool valleys where the trees drop fragrant shade, and the birds serenade them, and they can hear the streams falling quietly from the hills. Where they can drink. They shall eat and drink and never want. They shall romp in the green grass and race in the wildflowers.

My own flock, with deep brown eyes that speak to mine, and white wool that sparkles in the dusk.

I have made them and sought them and brought them home.

Sr. Miriam Pollard – Miriam Pollard, OCSO, is a Sister of Santa Rita Abbey in Sonoita, Arizona.

PEACE,

Roberta HHC