Friday, November 23, 2012

French Travels Pt. 1.

Orleans, though a city with a great history, would have to wait for another visit from us, as our schedule did not permit a visit.  Our next days would involve travel from Orleans to Lyon, and no time to spare.  We left somewhat later this day, having slept in and breakfasted on bread and Nutella.  We drove to the small town of Benoit-sur-Loire, where the relics of St. Benedict are held by a sizable abbey.

Though Monte Cassino in Italy claims that they have St. Benedict's relics, they have not produced anything, and there is a strong tradition of the relics having been moved to France for safekeeping.  Anyway, we venerated the relics after the mass for the day. The mass was a strange mixture of old and new, (like much in France) with chanted propers and common parts of the mass, and random elements like the faithful placing their own host in the ciborium of clay, etc.  Odd, to say the least.  I had noticed, both at St. Benoit and Chartres, that though there was a monastic presence, it was severely curtailed in comparison to what had once been.  It was as if monastic living was withering with age and harsh exposure in the modern world.  The somewhat bizarre juxtaposition of  modern liturgical practices with Gregorian Chant only served to accentuate the diminishing of Benedictine glory.
  After St. Benoit, we drove another few hours until we reached the town of Nevers, where we prayed before the body of St. Bernadette Soubirous.  The Saint is preserved for public veneration in a shrine at the convent she had joined (the Motherhouse of  the Sisters of Charity)
partly in order to flee the publicity in Lourdes.  Her body is incorrupt,
with the slight discolorations of the skin covered over with a light wax
mask.  One can easily discern her character by regarding her coun-
tenance, one of determination and stern resolution, yet one of devotion.
   After shopping for a picnic dinner in Nevers, we continued on to our evening destination, Autun. Autun is a fascinating location, settled by the Romans, once under Moslem control before Charles Martel defeated them near Tours.  It was also the home of the military school where Napoleon studied, and learned French as a nine-year-old.  We stayed on the outskirts of town and did not go exploring due to a migraine on my part.  It did provide an opportunity for one of my favorite pictures from the trip, of the Cath├ędrale Saint-Lazare d'Autun at night.  Stay tuned for more.


Of Quiet Men

Pat Archbold, one of the Creative Minority Report blogging brothers, has a fantastic article on quiet men.  It calls to mind the words of Proverbs about the wise man who speaks not, and the fool who prattles.  Alas that we could say otherwise of our times, but it is a time of fools.


The link:

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Where did time go?

Coming back from Europe meant we were thrust back in to our daily lives, and it would seem that they are lives without time.  At least we would seem to have insufficient amounts of it.  That missing time is right there, I'm just not good at using it well.  That means all the blog posts we had are still unfinished, and we are at Chartres!  Well, more updates are coming, I promise.  For now, enjoy a sight we saw in Europe.


Thursday, October 18, 2012

In Chartres

On our way up the South tower at Chartes Cathedral, we found a delightful room, which was empty and had great acoustics. So, we stopped and sang a hymn to Our Lady. Too much fun!

The audio is unaltered except to remove the loud pop when recording began an ended.  We had just climbed dozens of stairs to get there...


Sunday, October 14, 2012

The Grand Cathedral

We ended up in Chartres town after a hectic two hour commute there.  Of course, the address of the B&B did not show up in the GPS, so we had to guess, based on a local landmark with the same name as the street.  Thankfully, it worked, and we had established communication of a sort with our hostess.  She was the mother of five from Brittany, and her husband, who would show up later, was a Breton architect.   Meanwhile, my French was slow, and her English minimal, so it took a bit of effort to communicate.  We went off in search of dinner, buying some bread and pastries, finishing off our excellent English cheeses in the process.
  The next day, we drove to the parking lot by the Cathedral, and went to mass in the crypt.  Sadly, the sanctuary area was under repair, and we did not have mass there, and were not able to see it. After mass, we found some free parking, always a difficulty, and grabbed breakfast at the B&B.  Once that was done, we did laundry at a nearby Laverie or laundromat.  That was a surprisingly rewarding experience, mostly due to the fact that we had no clean clothes left...  While the laundry was going, we explored the lower town, and river areas.  After that, we spent a good four and more hours in the Cathedral, enjoying the majestic beauty of it and then climbing the tower to get a breath-taking view of the Cathedral and surrounding countryside.  Evening then found us on the road to Orleans, where we stayed the night.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Driving in Europe

Driving in Europe, as we have done, contains its own joys and challenges.  The challenges read as a "who's who" of nerve-wracking road conditions, and the joys consist primarily of safely reaching your destination.  Well, that's a mild exaggeration, but still, you get the point.
The first challenge we faced was that of driving on the wrong side of the road; The Irish follow English road customs which are almost the opposite of ours.  Thankfully, the Nissan Micra we had was small, and it was easier to make up for mistakes that way.  The gas, brake, and clutch pedals are all as in America, which was good, since shifting with the left hand was a bit distracting--not a good thing when driving on the opposite side of the road.  The other main feature of Irish roads is that, except for the main highways (M7, for example), they are all narrow, bumpy, and hedged by thick mounds of dirt or rock walls.  Couple this with local drivers hurtling along and giant buses and lorries (that's what they call trucks) looming out at you every so often, you have a scary ride.  We did get a flat tire, either due to bumps in the road, or more likely, severe under-inflation of the tires. Lastly, in Ireland, there are few direct roads to anywhere, so it takes forever to get from place to place, which is not a bad thing, however.  The Micra was so nondescript, we never thought to take a picture. I might link an image, though.
France had a set of challenges all its own. The signs were actually pretty easy to read, since I knew French.  Driving in Ireland had also prepared us for the placement of European signs, which are subtler and more misleading than American ones.  The tough part about France was that many, if not most of the addresses were vague.  They gave a name of a location, and the name of the road it was on (i.e., the Paris Road), but not a number or similar system. That left us driving around in the literal and metaphorical dark several times, as we actually drove past our destination several times. We got used to this, however. Leaving Paris was an exercise in patience, since we hit thick traffic and wet roads. It took us well over two hours to get to Chartres. The Parisian style of driving is to fit your car wherever there is an opening.  So, two lanes of traffic could easily morph into four, and back; depending on space, which driver was parking, calling a taxi, calling his grandmother, or just plain being French--Which way of being is rather vague like my sentence there.  Or here.  Anyway, at least everything was on the right side of the road, usually...  We named our car Gus-Gus the Panda, since it was a Fiat Panda, and a very Gus-Gus kind of car--cheerful and willing to play, but not a particularly stable character.

Italy was insane, I'll just say it now. There's a reason why the rental company would not rent without the insurance attached.  Our ride in Italy was named Ahab, since it was a whale of a car (compared to what we had before), a Citroen Picasso. Besides, Picasso was a whaley sort of person.  We did like the mileage the diesel engine gave, and the ease with which it accelerated.  Anyway, driving in Italy is like driving on the Autobahn in the fast lane, and a roller-derby in the slow lanes (Italian drivers are like Parisian drivers, everywhere in Italy).  No lie. Driving in Rome was like living the nightmares that New York cab drivers have about bad driving.  (That may or may not have been hyperbole. That's for me to know and you to find out.)  Anyway, if you have a modicum of bravery, and the ability to drive manual transmission, driving in Europe is not bad.  You can save some money over trains and planes, not to mention flexible schedules and independence. Just don't try parking on a hill in Siena. I'll tell you that one another time.

Friday, October 12, 2012

There are some things money can't ... and can ... buy.

Bought at a price:

Snazzy SLR camera we've been toting around and experimenting with.

Gladys, our HTC Flyer tablet that served as wedding planner, now as carrier pigeon.

Plane tickets, rental cars, tain and bus tickets, petrol/gasoline/diesel.

Room and some board.

Bread. Cheese. Fruit. Coffee/tea. Meat when available. Nutella. More bread. More coffee. Water and/or an OJ wannabe when found for cheap.

Oh yes, and the occassional burger or decent meal.

A load of clean laundry when you're living out of a backpack.

Tickets to tour tall things. Or touristy things. Like the Cliffs of Moher. The belltowers of Bath Abby or Chartres. The museum, facade, interior, crypt and baptistry of the "duomo" (basilica) in Siena.

Because, you see, as much as one insists that one will not spend $ when abroad (and a great experience may still be had, I'm sure), sometimes it's just worth it. To stay alive and healthy, both physically and mentally.

Along with this, there are many things that are high up on the priceless list:

The look in the eyes of new parents.
(oh wait, we're not quite there yet : )

Memories. All of them. Particularly,

The views from all those lofty heights.

The laughter over the sheer quantity of those foods consumed. Or hungered after.

The satisfaction of making it through a torrential downpour in Paris without succumbing to sidewalk marketing of 7 Euro umbrellas.

The subsequent desire for said pricey umbrella as you walk to 7am mass at St. Peter's in steady rain.

Finding doppelgangers of your friends and family among the visages and voices of the European nations.

Not having to pay for something you thought you would.


Wondering where in the world people work when they live in the smallest "town" you'be ever seen, in the boonies of the French countryside. And envying them just a bit for it.

The look on friends faces as you arrive, having not seen them in over a year, and enjoying simply being in their company once again.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Paris en Pluie

Nous arrivons en Paris, et trouvons que il fait trop pluie....  Or something like that.  When we reached Paris, having taken the TGV from London, we locked our bags at Gare du Nord (a great way to save your back dans la Citie).  Intermittent rain followed us throughout the remainder of the day, getting steadier as night fell.  We almost broke down and got umbrellas, and in fact, should have done so.  At any rate, we stopped for dinner at a restaurant near the north side of the Basilica of Sacre Coeur.  After dinner, we splashed our way up the steps and to our room in the guesthouse.  The next day, we made the Holy Hour of adoration we had signed up for, and attended mass.  We left in search of breakfast, immediately walking into a rain that seemed to soak through everything.  As we conceded defeat and began to look for umbrellas to ward off the rain, it suddenly lifted, and the sky began to clear.  With brightened spirits, we got a quick bite to eat, and returned to the Cathedrale de Notre Dame, to take the requisite pictures, which we had skipped upon our first visit.  A half hour later, skipping the hour-long wait at Saint-Chappelle, we found ourselves on the Rue de Montparnasse, a small bit of Crepe Heaven.  Any one of the dozen places we looked into would have sufficed, but we chose, and spent a leisurely lunch hour consuming excellent crepes.  We then set out in search of the car rental location, which took about an hour of exploring to find.  Car in hand, or under-seat, rather, we returned to Gare du Nord for our bags, and left Paris.  Though our visit was brief, the city had exerted a grip on us, and refused to let us leave easily, throwing an extra hour or more of traffic at us, to keep us near.  We fought through the Paris traffic, and made our way to Chartres. 

City of the Dreaming Spires

What is there to say of Oxford? We were only able to spend a day there, hardly 24 hours, yet it was completely worth it. I will quote a passage from a favorite book, which details the story of the love of a couple, who begin as pagans and encounter Christ through the joy of other Christians. This passage is from their arrival at Oxford, where they will eventually meet and befriend C.S. Lewis:
"Imperceptibly the ages of faith, when men really believed, when the soaring spires carried their eyes and thoughts up to God, became real to us, not something in a book. What was happening was that our mind's gaze, almost without our knowing it, was being directed towards the Christian faith that, at once, animated our living contemporary friends and had brought this university with its colleges and churches and chapels into being. It was not precisely that we were being called upon to accept that faith but that we were being called upon to acknowledge its existence as an ancient and living force. There was a terrible splendour in these churches with their glorious glowing glass and in the music of the plainsong and in the words of the liturgy. The splendour of course did not mean that the faith was true; but perhaps we felt vaguely that it did somehow hint at a validity." (A Severe Mercy, by Sheldon Vanauken)
While not having the academic experience of the university, as Van and his wife had, we too felt a bit of the splendor of Oxford, even amidst somewhat inclement weather in the evening. Some cider with a friend in a local pub was a warm welcome!

Golden Hours in the White City

I have no idea how people generally refer to Bath, UK, but it will forever have a type of white and golden glow about it in my mind. Perhaps this is because we arrived there mid afternoon, and walked about during the waning hours of the day. The city has much of the charm of the more historic parts of London or Paris, but without the business of either or the language barrier of the latter. After about and hour's walk, I determined we should move there.

After a rather delayed train ride from hectic and bustling London, we deposited our bags at our lodging, then ventured out again to catch a glimpse of the interior of Bath Abbey and the Roman baths. We were lucky enough to join one of the last "tower tours" of the day, viewing the interior of the belltower and appreciating the city even more with an evening, rooftop-view of its charm. One of my favorite aspects of the tour, however, was that we were the youngest in the group by about 30 years, and the other "tourists" were British, some even from Bath! Providing the excursion with wit seemed to be the order of the day for several of them, which helped keep the trek up the 240-some odd stairs a less arduous task.

We rushed off post-tour to sneak in the gates of the baths just before closing. The museum artifacts were more fascinating than I'd have expected, containing many coins, pieces of jewelry, and curses found in the ruins. Patrons of the baths would occassiom
ally have things stolen from the "locker room" if they had no slave to guard their belongings, and so they would write curses on small parchments and throw them into the sacred pool, begging the goddess to punish the thief.

Afterward we wandered up the road to catch the Royal Crescent before the sun set entirely, then shopped for some groceries for dinner. The next morning saw us catching a train bound for Oxford.

Friday, October 5, 2012

What England had to teach us.

England is a land of magic and....  Wait, I used that last time.  England is, well English, and you'll really need to come to England to find out. Some observations about England can still be made, however, as long as you use the passive voice.

All English doors squeak. Random, but true.

Everything will cost more than you thought it would (except milk).

Sometimes, leaning out the window of a train is the only way to get off at your stop (thanks be for observant conductors).

Why drive when you can walk, bike, bus or train there? Many 20-somethings don't even have a driver's license.

Trains are frequently delayed.

They have good cheese (that Beth's allowed to eat! : )

London is huge and overrated. Go to Bath and Oxford.

Bath is a comfortable city.


Things We Learned in Ireland...

Ireland is a land of magic and mystery, so the tourist guides say, but we now know many of the keys to Ireland and Irish living.  So, here are a few of our discoveries, in no particular order.

Burning peat smells like burning brakes.

It rains here. If you think it's going to rain, it will. If you think it won't rain, it will.
(But it may also become sunny and warm, rather suddenly.)

On the 8th day, God created pubs. He did not create them all equal. Ergo, some pubs are better than others.

Grocery stores are more for socializing and gossip than actual shopping (a welcome change from American consumerism and haughty indifference to other human beings.)

"Are you ok?" translates to "How may I help you?," as opposed to genuine concern about your mental or physical health.

We're pretty sure everyone in Ireland has kissed the Blarney Stone at some point.

Have you ever heard anyone brag about that great cup of coffee they had in Ireland? Yeah.
Long story short, thanks be for tea and Guinness.

Why play traditional Irish music in a pub when you can play American pop or classics?
Point proven: one night we had live music, played well, but consisting of these songs:

Waggon Wheel
Free Falling
With or Without You
Stand by Me
Sweet Child of Mine
I Need a Dollar
Folsom Prison Blues
Dirty Old Town (fine, that one's legitimately Irish)
It Just Takes Some Time
Rollin' on the River
(there were maybe 2 random Irish songs mixed in to that list ...)

Curbs are used for parking ON, not next to.

Marilyn Monroe, John Wayne, and Johnny Cash are pretty big icons there.

Pubs and B&Bs abound, even in tiny Dingle town. There are at least 18 pubs and nearly as many "other" eating establishments.

So, cead mile failte and slainte to you, and a top o' the morning too!

Monday, October 1, 2012

Somewhere, Beyond the Sea

So, the last couple of days have been rather hectic, and rather tedious at the same time (at least in parts).  Saturday involved a drive from Dingle to Limerick by way of the cliffs of Moher.  We got misdirected to a ferry, finally made it to Moher, to find our camera was out of battery.  The view was amazing and we got other pictures.  Sunday, except for mass in Limerick with the Institute of Christ the King and a good scholaist and bad schola, was a lot of searching and waiting.  We had a hard time finding the church, since it appeared as named on no map.  Not to be discouraged, we found it in time.  We rushed to the airport to catch a flight that was an hour and a half late. Then, in London, we finally made it to Brompton Oratory, for not much.  Another hour of the Tube and walking got us to our hostel, and another half hour of wallking got us schwarma for dinner.  That much was great! Did I mention my feet were sore?  Next day (after being charmed all night by a horde of loud German teens in our hallway), we left for Bath.  To be continued....


St. Patrick's in Limerick
The Cliffs of Moher

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Slea Head

After a busy first day driving and changing tires, we leisurely spent the day Friday driving around the Dongle peninsula.  We went briefly into town where the local "market was on", and got lunch.  We then drove the scenic coastal route of Slea Head.  Very beautiful.  Then, back home for fish & chips, with live music.  More on the music, later...


Friday, September 28, 2012

Oh yes ...

So, per the post below, we had to get a new tire, as one of ours blew during the last 15 miles of yesterday's drive. Michael changed it in about 10 minutes flat. (pun not intended : ) Let the adventures begin!

Dingle, Ireland

We're staying at this lovely B&B, where the proprietor's name is Jill and her cat's name is Punch. Punch is a vocal feline who enjoys attention from visitors, while his owner is quite lovely and attentive. We enjoyed a splendid breakfast in the sunroom, then had our tire fixed and shopped at the (Friday only) outdoor market for lunch. Beth's former Ireland compadres will be glad to know we are supplementing bread, cheese and fruit with their favorite biopot yogurt : )  Off for a drive around the peninsula - cheers!

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Taking off....

We are about to head out for two weeks in Europe, with only a carryon each. Crazy, but fun.  Can't wait! Destination Ireland.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Pray for a Great Mercy

On April 15th, now known as Divine Mercy Sunday in the Ordinary Form Church, the Society of Saint Pius X, long laboring in irregular circumstances regarding canonical status, is due to make a final reply to Rome on the subject of doctrinal differences.  The doctrines in question are found in Vatican II, pertaining to Ecumenism, the nature of the Church, religious liberty, and the doctrine on congeniality (Church governance).  The SSPX claims that these doctrines conflict with prior, well-established doctrines of the ordinary and extraordinary Magisterium.  For a fuller report, please go to Sandro Magister's column on Chiesa.  If these main differences can be reconciled, there is great hope that a major portion of the group may return to full unity with Rome, a consumation devoutly to be wished.  May the God of Mercies grant that this come to pass, on this approaching Sunday, the Sunday of Divine Mercy.  St. Thomas, St. Faustina, and all God's Angels and Saints, pray for us. 


Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Why Couldn't the Disciples Recognize Christ?

On "Seeing" Our Lord

     After listening to two homilies on the subject of recognizing Our Lord post-Resurrection, I realized that there was a wealth of details to draw out of this interesting phenomenon.  Here are a few of the thoughts that have occurred to me so far:
     First, that the disciples and Apostles exhibit a need to "see" Our Lord.  Peter and John run to the tomb to see, Mary Magdalene and Thomas have to see, even to touch Our Lord. Seeing Christ is incredibly important throughout the Gospels, even all of Scripture.  Simeon's words come to mind: "Now dismiss your servant Lord ... because my eyes have seen Your Salvation", as do the words of the beggar Bartimaeus: "Lord that I may see."  After the devastation of the Passion and Death of Our Lord, the disciples needed to see His resurrection.  Yet paradoxically, they cannot see Him, at least at first.
    Unlike Lazarus, or the daughter of Jairus, or the widow of Naim's son, Our Lord was not recognized by those who encountered him after His Resurrection.  Why was this?  The common understanding is, that when He arose from the Dead, Jesus' body was glorified and no longer subject to the conditions of mere earthly existence.  The Gospels describe this in the various appearances He makes post-Resurrection.  Our Lord walks through walls and doors, appears instantly in locations far apart, and appears to undergo no bodily suffering.  He does eat (a whole monogram's worth of discussion, there), but seemingly more to prove His physicality than to satiate His hunger.  The Glorified Body of Our Lord is thus the means by which He gradually reveals Himself to the disciples after Easter.  These revelations bear significance, such as at Emmaus--with the breaking of the bread--or to Mary Magdalene, in the guise of a gardener (this recalls the Garden of Eden, the suffering servant of Isiah, etc).  This seeing or coming to see Jesus is really a coming to understand Jesus, the fulfillment of the Covenant; Jesus was the fulfillment of the Covenant, and our seeing him is the fulfillment, since as He Himself says: this is eternal life: That they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. (John 17:4)   The disciples' desire to see and know Our Lord is our own desire, our own need, which we must seek to fulfill.
    The fulfillment of the desire to see can perhaps be understood when we look at the orders of Grace and Nature.  One of the most essential aspects of our Catholic Faith revolves around the dual order of Grace and Nature, found in each one of us.  We all have the nature of human-ness, and the calling to grace, that is, a participation in the life of God, by which we are made His Sons and Daughers, truly divinized.  This Life consists of the seeing and loving of God, which ability and vision He gives by Sanctifying Grace. 
    Now, the problem for the disciples, is that they have not yet been confirmed in grace, and they cannot yet utilize the graces God had bestowed in His Son; they had to wait until Pentecost.  The disciples could not see with God's eyes, and thus could not see God Himself, Our Lord Jesus Christ, once He no longer was limited to His prior human mode of existing (in terms of His human nature, of course).  Once confirmed in Faith at Pentecost, the disciples had the confidence of the theological Virtue of Faith, and could share that Faith.  But here's the difficult part: we are like the disciples and Apostles, even with the Life of Grace.  The disciples had had the gift of seeing our Lord in his daily ministry over three years, and that carried them through the time of separation (A little while and you shall not see Me, and again a little while and you shall see Me.)
    This difficulty, then, shows how we are to approach "seeing" Christ.  If we are to be able to live a life of Faith, and see Our Lord, we have to do two things.  We have to live a life of grace, the Sacraments.  Yet, Our Lord remains veiled here, and we cannot "see" Him in the way the disciples did.  Thus, as a first step, yet also as an ongoing step, we must do all we can to make Our Lord present to us, we must live the Gospels, as if He were once again among us.  If faith builds on reason, then Our supernatural knowledge of Jesus Christ will build on a proper human understanding of Him.  After all, as St. Jerome said, "Ignorance of Scriptures is Ignorance of Christ."  The likelihood of private revelation is not particularly high for those of us in the modern world, so all we have to fall back on in order to see, to know God, are the life of grace, and the revelation of Christ in the Sacred Scriptures.  We can "see" Our Lord and touch Him in the Sacraments and Scripture.  With Faith, we can know the realities of the Sacraments and the meanings of Scripture, but according to nature, we need a real human idea of Whom Christ was.  If we seek these, in the loving care of Holy Mother Church, then we can be, unlike doubting Thomas--who had to directly see and touch our Lord--those who "have not seen, yet still believe."   Christ is Risen!


Monday, April 9, 2012

"Hades is ANGERED!"

One of the main highlights of the Easter Vigil liturgy in the Eastern Catholic Churches is the reading of the Easter Homily of St. John Chrysostom.  The sermon, a masterpiece of oratory and doctrine, is also a rousing conclusion to Hajmat and introduction to the Holy Liturgy (Mass) itself.  Here it is, below.  The words in bold are shouted by the celebrant and echoed back by the whole congregation.  Christ is Risen!

Easter Homily

-St. John Chrysostom 

Let all pious men and all lovers of God rejoice in the splendor of this feast; let the wise servants blissfully enter into the joy of their Lord; let those who have borne the burden of Lent now receive their pay, and those who have toiled since the first hour, let them now receive their due reward; let any who came after the third hour be grateful to join in the feast, and those who may have come after the sixth, let them not be afraid of being too late; for the Lord is gracious and He receives the last even as the first. He gives rest to him who comes on the eleventh hour as well as to him who has toiled since the first: yes, He has pity on the last and He serves the first; He rewards the one and praises the effort.
Come you all: enter into the joy of your Lord. You the first and you the last, receive alike your reward; you rich and you poor, dance together; you sober and you weaklings, celebrate the day; you who have kept the fast and you who have not, rejoice today. The table is richly loaded: enjoy its royal banquet. The calf is a fatted one: let no one go away hungry. All of you enjoy the banquet of faith; all of you receive the riches of his goodness. Let no one grieve over his poverty, for the universal kingdom has been revealed; let no one weep over his sins, for pardon has shone from the grave; let no one fear death, for the death of our Saviour has set us free: He has destroyed it by enduring it, He has despoiled Hades by going down into its kingdom, He has angered it by allowing it to taste of his flesh.
When Isaias foresaw all this, he cried out: "O Hades, you have been angered by encountering Him in the nether world." Hades is angered because frustrated, it is angered because it has been mocked, it is angered because it has been destroyed, it is angered because it has been reduced to naught, it is angered because it is now captive. It seized a body, and, lo! it encountered heaven; it seized the visible, and was overcome by the invisible.
O death, where is your sting? O Hades, where is your victory? Christ is risen and you are abolished. Christ is risen and the demons are cast down. Christ is risen and the angels rejoice. Christ is risen and life is set free. Christ is risen and the tomb is emptied of the dead: for Christ, being risen from the dead, has become the Leader and Reviver of those who had fallen asleep. To Him be glory and power for ever and ever. Amen.