Community of the Holy Cross, Holy Cross Convent, Costock (2026)

07/06/2026

Deuteronomy 8:2-3, 14b-16a; 1 Corinthians 10:16-17; John 6:51-58

Today, in Italy and in other nations, the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ, Corpus Christi, is being celebrated. In the second Reading of today’s liturgy, Saint Paul reawakens our faith in this mystery of communion. He highlights two effects of the shared chalice and the broken bread: the mystical effect and the communal effect.

First, the Apostle states: “The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break is it not a participation in the body of Christ?”). These words express the mystical effect, or we might say the spiritual effect of the Eucharist: it relates to the union with Christ, who in the bread and the wine offers himself for the salvation of all. Jesus is present in the sacrament of the Eucharist to be our nourishment, to be assimilated and to become in us that renewing force that gives once again the energy and gives once more the desire to set out again after every pause or after every fall. But this requires our consent, our willingness to let ourselves, our way of thinking and acting, be transformed. Otherwise the Eucharistic celebrations in which we participate are reduced to empty and formal rituals. Often some go to Mass because they have to go, as if it were a social event, respectful but social. However, the mystery is something else. It is Jesus who is present and comes to nourish us.

The second effect is the communal one, and is expressed by Saint Paul in these words: “Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body”. It is the mutual communion of those who participate in the Eucharist, to the point of becoming one body among them, in the same way that the bread that is broken and distributed is one. We are a community nourished by the body and blood of Christ. We are a community, nourished by the body and blood of Christ. Communion with the body of Christ is an effective sign of unity, of communion, of sharing. One cannot participate in the Eucharist without committing oneself to mutual fraternity, which is sincere. But the Lord knows well that our human strength alone is not enough for this. On the contrary, He knows that among His disciples there will always be the temptation of rivalry, envy, prejudice, division... We are all aware of these things. For this reason too He left us the Sacrament of His real, tangible and permanent Presence, so that, in remaining united to him, we may always receive the gift of fraternal love. “Abide in my love” (Jn 15:9), Jesus said; and this is possible thanks to the Eucharist. To abide in friendship, in love.

This twofold fruit of the Eucharist: first, union with Christ and second, communion between those who are nourished by him, generates and continually renews the Christian community. It is the Church that makes the Eucharist, but it is more fundamental that the Eucharist makes the Church, and allows her to be her mission, even before she accomplishes it. This is the mystery of communion, of the Eucharist: receiving Jesus so He may transform us from within, and receiving Jesus so that He may create unity in us and not division.

May the Blessed Virgin help us to always welcome with wonder and gratitude the great gift that Jesus gave us by leaving us the Sacrament of His Body and His Blood.

Pope Francis
Saint Peter’s Square
Sunday, 14 June 2020

One bread, one body, one Lord of all,
One cup of blessing which we bless.
And we, though many, throughout the earth,
We are one body in this one Lord.

Gentile or Jew,
Servant or free,
Woman or man no more.
One bread, one body, one Lord of all,
One cup of blessing which we bless.
And we, though many, throughout the earth,
We are one body in this one Lord.

Many the gifts,
Many the works,
One in the Lord of all.
One bread, one body, one Lord of all,
One cup of blessing which we bless.
And we, though many, throughout the earth,
We are one body in this one Lord.

Grain for the fields,
Scattered and grown,
Gathered to one for all.
One bread, one body, one Lord of all,
One cup of blessing which we bless.
And we, though many, throughout the earth,
We are one body in this one Lord.

Image: La Fête-Dieu à Québec, 1944; Jean Paul Lemieux, 1904-1990; Musée National Des Beaux-Arts Du Québec, 179 Grande Allée Ouest, Quebec City, Quebec G1R 2H1. Canada

31/05/2026

Exodus 34:4b-6, 8-9; 2 Corinthians 13:11-13; John 3:16-18

Today, the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, the Gospel is taken from Jesus’ dialogue with Nicodemus. Nicodemus was a member of the Sanhedrin, passionate about the mystery of God: he recognizes in Jesus a divine master and goes to speak to him in secret, at night. Jesus listens to him, understands he is a man on a quest, and then first, he surprises him, answering that in order to enter the Kingdom of God, one must be reborn; then, he reveals the heart of the mystery to him, saying that God loved humanity so much that he sent his Son into the world. Jesus, therefore, the Son, speaks to us about his Father and his immense love.

Father and Son. It is a familiar image which, if we think about it, disrupts our images of God. Indeed, the very word “God” suggests to us a singular, majestic and distant reality, whereas hearing about a Father and a Son brings us back home. Yes, we can think of God in this way, through the image of a family gathered around the table, where life is shared. After all, the table, which, at the same time is an altar, is a symbol with which certain icons depict the Trinity. It is an image that speaks to us of a God of communion. Father, Son and Holy Spirit: communion. But it is not only an image; it is reality! It is reality because the Holy Spirit, the Spirit that the Father poured into our hearts through Jesus (cf. Gal 4:6), makes us taste, makes us savour God’s presence: a presence that is always close, compassionate and tender. The Holy Spirit does with us what Jesus does with Nicodemus: he introduces us to the mystery of new birth, the birth of faith, of Christian life, he reveals the heart of the Father to us, and he makes us partake in God’s very life.

We could say that the invitation he extends to us is to sit at the table with God to share in his love. This is the image. This is what happens at every Mass, at the altar of the Eucharistic table, where Jesus offers himself to the Father and offers himself for us. Yes, that is how it is, brothers and sisters, our God is a communion of love: and this is how Jesus revealed him to us. And do you know how we can remember this? With the simplest gesture, which we learned as children: the sign of the cross. By tracing the cross on our body, we remind ourselves how much God loved us, to the point of giving his life for us; and we repeat to ourselves that his love envelops us completely, from top to bottom, from left to right, like an embrace that never abandons us. And at the same time, we commit ourselves to bear witness to God-as-love, creating communion in his name. Perhaps now, each one of us, and all together, let us make the sign of the cross on ourselves.

Today, then, we can ask ourselves: do we bear witness to God-as-love? Or has God-as-love become in turn a concept, something we have already heard, that no longer stirs nor provokes life? If God is love, do our communities bear witness to this? Do they know how to love? Do our communities know how to love? And our family, do we know how to love in the family? Do we always leave the door open, do we know how to welcome everyone — and I emphasize, everyone — as brothers and sisters? Do we offer everyone the food of God’s forgiveness and Gospel joy? Does one breathe the air of home, or do we resemble more closely an office or a reserved place where only the elect can enter? God is love, God is the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, and he gave his life for us. This is why we make the sign of the cross.

And may Mary help us to experience the Church as that home of familial love, for the glory of God the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

Pope Francis
Saint Peter’s Square
Sunday, 4 June 2023

Firmly I believe and truly
God is Three, and God is One;
And I next acknowledge duly
Manhood taken by the Son.

And I trust and hope most fully
In that Manhood crucified;
And each thought and deed unruly
Do to death, as he has died.

Simply to his grace and wholly
Light and life and strength belong,
And I love supremely, solely,
Him the holy, him the strong.

And I hold in veneration,
For the love of him alone,
Holy Church as his creation,
And her teachings as his own.

Adoration ay be given,
With and through the angelic host,
To the God of earth and heaven,
Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Amen.

Image: The Trinity with Christ Crucified, c1420-1430; Artist unknown, Austrian; The National Gallery, Trafalgar Square, London. United Kingdom.

24/05/2026

Acts 2:1-11; 1 Corinthians 12:3b-7, 12-13; Veni, Sancte Spiritus; John 20:19-23

Today, the Solemnity of Pentecost, the Gospel takes us to the Upper Room, where the apostles had taken refuge after the death of Jesus. On the evening of Passover, the Risen One presents himself precisely into that situation of fear and anguish and, breathing on them, says: “Receive the Holy Spirit”. In this way, with the gift of the Spirit, Jesus wishes to free the disciples from fear, from this fear that keeps them holed up at home, and he frees them so that they may be able to go out and become witnesses and proclaimers of the Gospel. Let us dwell a little on what the Spirit does: he frees from fear.

The disciples had closed the doors, the Gospel says, “for fear”. The death of Jesus had shocked them, their dreams had been shattered, their hopes had vanished. And they had closed themselves inside. Not only in that room, but within, in the heart. I would like to underline this: closed inside. How often do we too shut ourselves in? How often, because of some difficult situation, because of some personal or family problem, because of the suffering that marks us or the evil we breathe around us, do we risk slipping slowly into loss of hope and lack the courage to go on? This happens many times. And then, like the apostles, we shut ourselves in, barricading ourselves in the labyrinth of worries.

Brothers and sisters, this “shutting ourselves in” happens when, in the most difficult situations, we allow fear to take the upper hand and let its stern voice prevail within us. When fear enters, we close ourselves off. The cause, therefore, is fear: fear of not being able to cope, of having to face everyday battles alone, of risking and then being disappointed, of making the wrong choices. Brothers, sisters, fear blocks, fear paralyses. And it also isolates: let us think of the fear of others, of foreigners, of those who are different, who think in another way. And there can even be the fear of God: that he will punish me, that he will be angry with me… If we give space to these false fears, the doors close: the doors of the heart, the doors of society, and even the doors of the Church! Where there is fear, there is closure. And this is no good.

However, the Gospel offers us the remedy of the Risen One: the Holy Spirit. He frees us from the prisons of fear. When they receive the Spirit, the apostles — we celebrate this today — come out of the Upper Room and go out into the world to forgive sins and to proclaim the good news. Thanks to him, fears are overcome and doors open. Because this is what the Spirit does: he makes us feel God’s closeness, and thus, his love casts out fear, illuminates the way, consoles, sustains in adversity. Faced with fears and closure, then, let us invoke the Holy Spirit for us, for the Church and for the whole world: let a new Pentecost cast out the fears that assail us and revive the flame of God’s love.

May Mary Most Holy, the first to be filled with the Holy Spirit, intercede for us.

Pope Francis
Solemnity of Pentecost
Saint Peter’s Square
Sunday, 28 May 2023

Sing to him in whom creation
Found its shape and origin;
Spirit, moving on the waters,
Troubled by the God within;
Source of breath to all things breathing,
Life in whom all lives begin.

Sing to God, the close companion
Of our inmost thoughts and ways;
Who, in showing us his wonders,
Is himself the power to gaze;
And his will, to those who listen,
By a still small voice conveys.

Holy men, both priest and prophet,
Caught his accents, spoke his word;
His the truth behind the wisdoms
Which as yet know not our Lord;
He the love of God eternal,
Which in Christ was seen and heard.

Tell of how the ascended Jesus
Armed a people for his own;
How a hundred men and women
Turned the known world upside down,
To its dark and furthest corners
By the Wind of Whitsun blown.

Pray we then, O Lord the Spirit,
On our lives descend in might;
Let thy flame break out within us,
Fire our hearts and clear our sight,
Till, white-hot in thy possession,
We, too, set the world alight.

Praise, O praise the Holy Spirit,
Praise the Father, praise the Word,
Source, and Truth, and Inspiration,
Trinity in deep accord:
Through thy Voice which speaks within us
We thy creatures own thee Lord.

Image: Pentecost, Jen Norton. https://www.jennortonartstudio.com/pentecost-and-the-holy-spirit/

17/05/2026

Acts 1:12-14; 1 Peter 4:13-16; John 17:1-11a

In these final days of Easter, the Church places us in a moment of waiting—between the Ascension and Pentecost. In today’s Gospel, we hear Jesus praying to the Father, not for himself, but for his disciples: “Holy Father, keep them in your name… so that they may be one as we are one.” This is not just a farewell prayer — it is a window into the heart of Christ. As he prepares to return to the Father, what matters most to him is unity. Not uniformity, not sameness, but a deep, living communion rooted in God’s love.

In the first reading from Acts, we see the disciples doing exactly what Jesus hoped: they gather together, persevering in prayer, waiting for the promise of the Holy Spirit. They are not scattered or divided; they are together. And that togetherness becomes the space where God will act.

This speaks directly to us. We live in a world—and often even in a Church—where division comes easily. Differences become walls. Yet Jesus’ prayer reminds us that unity is not something we manufacture; it is something we receive and protect. It comes from belonging to God. Saint Peter, in the second reading, encourages us not to be discouraged when we face trials for our faith. Even suffering can become a place of communion with Christ. When we remain faithful, we are not alone—we are held within the very prayer of Jesus himself.

This Sunday invites us to do two simple but profound things: to remain, and to pray. Like the apostles, we stay close to one another and to the Lord, even in uncertainty; and we trust that God is already at work, preparing something greater than we can see.

As we wait for Pentecost, we might ask ourselves: where am I being called to build unity? In my family, my parish, my relationships? And how can I make space — through prayer — for the Holy Spirit to act? Because the same prayer of Jesus continues today: that we may be one. Where that unity is lived, even imperfectly, the world begins to see God.

We ask Mary, Queen of the Church, Queen of Peace, to pray with us and for us.

Eternal Monarch, King most high,
Whose blood hath brought redemption nigh,
By whom the death of Death was wrought,
And conquering grace’s battle fought:

Ascending to the throne of might,
And seated at the Father’s right,
All power in heaven is Jesu’s own,
That here his manhood had not known.

Yea, angels tremble when they see
How changed is our humanity;
That flesh hath purged what flesh had stained,
And God, the flesh of God, hath reigned.

Be thou our joy and strong defence,
Who art our future recompense:
So shall the light that springs from thee
Be ours through all eternity.

O risen Christ, ascended Lord,
All praise to thee let earth accord,
Who art, while endless ages run,
With Father and with Spirit One. Amen.

Image: The Ascension, 14th century, Silk on canvas; Made in Florence, Italy; Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, USA

14/05/2026

Acts 1:1-11; Ephesians 1:17-23; Matthew 28:16-20

The Ascension of the Lord… is a feast we know well, but which can raise several questions — at least two. The first question: Why celebrate Jesus’ departure from earth? It would seem that his departure would be a sad moment, not exactly something to rejoice over! Why celebrate a departure? First question. Second question: What does Jesus do now in heaven? First question: Why celebrate? Second question: What does Jesus do in heaven?

Why we celebrate. Because with the Ascension, something new and beautiful happened: Jesus brought our humanity, our flesh, into heaven — this is the first time — that is, he brought it in God. That humanity that he had assumed on earth did not remain here. The risen Jesus was not a spirit, no. He had his human body, flesh and bones, everything. He will be there in God forever. We could say that from the day of the Ascension on, God himself “changed” — from then on, he is not only spirit, but such is his love for us that he bears our own flesh in himself, our humanity! The place awaiting us is thus indicated; that is our destiny. Thus wrote an ancient Father in the faith: “What splendid news! He who became man for us […] to make us his brothers, presents himself as man before the Father to bear with himself all those who are joined with him” (cf. St. Gregory of Nyssa, Discourse on the Resurrection of Christ, 1). Today, we celebrate “heaven’s conquest” — Jesus, who returns to the Father, but with our humanity. And so, heaven is already a little bit ours. Jesus opened the door and his body is there.

The second question: So, what does Jesus do in heaven? He is there for us before the Father, continually showing our humanity to him — showing him his wounds. I like to think that Jesus, prays like this in front of the Father — showing him his wounds. “This is what I suffered for humanity: Do something!” He shows him the price of redemption and the Father is moved. This is something I like to think about. This is how Jesus prays. He did not leave us alone. In fact, before ascending, he told us, as the Gospel says today, “I am with you always, to the close of the age”. He is always with us, he looks at us, and “he always lives to make intercession” (Heb 7:25) for us. To show the Father his wounds, for us. In a word, Jesus intercedes. He is in the best “place”, before his Father and ours, to intercede on our behalf.

Intercession is fundamental. This faith helps us too: it helps us not to lose hope, not to be discouraged. Before the Father, there is someone who shows him the wounds and intercedes. May the Queen of heaven help us to intercede with the power of prayer.

Pope Francis
Saint Peter’s Square
Sunday, 21 May 2023

The head that once was crowned with thorns
Is crowned with glory now:
A royal diadem adorns
The mighty victor’s brow.

The highest place that heaven affords
Is his, is his by right;
The King of kings and Lord of lords,
And heaven’s eternal light;

The joy of all who dwell above,
The joy of all below,
To whom he manifests his love,
And grants his name to know.

To them the cross, with all its shame,
With all its grace is given:
Their name an everlasting name,
Their joy the joy of heaven.

They suffer with their Lord below;
They reign with him above;
Their profit and their joy to know
The mystery of his love.

The cross he bore is life and health,
Though shame and death to him;
His people’s hope, his people’s wealth,
Their everlasting theme.

Image: Triumphant Christ, fresco, in Palazzo Quirinale, Rome

10/05/2026

Acts 8:5-8, 14-17; 1 Peter 3:15-18; John 14:15-21

The Gospel for today, the Sixth Sunday of Easter, speaks to us about the Holy Spirit, whom Jesus calls the Paraclete. Paraclete is a word that comes from Greek, which means both comforter and advocate at the same time. This means that the Holy Spirit never leaves us alone, he is near to us, like a lawyer who assists the accused person, standing by his or her side. And he suggests to us how to defend ourselves from those who accuse us. Let us recall that the great accuser is always the devil, who puts sin inside of you, the desire to sin, wickedness. Let us reflect on these two aspects: his closeness to us, and his assistance against those who accuse us.

His closeness: The Holy Spirit, Jesus says, “dwells with you and will be in you”. He never abandons us. The Holy Spirit wants to stay with us; he is not a passing guest who comes to pay us a courtesy visit. He is a companion for life, a stable presence. He is Spirit and desires to dwell in our spirits. He is patient and stays with us even when we fall. He remains because he truly loves us; he does not pretend to love us, and then leaves us alone when things get difficult. No. He is loyal, he is transparent, he is authentic.

Indeed, if we find ourselves in a moment of trial, the Holy Spirit comforts us, bringing us God’s pardon and strength. And when he places our errors before us and corrects us, he does so gently — there is always the timbre of tenderness and the warmth of love in his voice that speaks to the heart. Certainly, the Paraclete Spirit is demanding, because he is a true, faithful friend, who does not hide anything, who suggests what we should change and how to grow. But when he corrects us, he never humiliates us, and never instils distrust. On the contrary, he conveys the certainty that with God, we can always make it. This is his closeness. It is a beautiful certainty.

The Paraclete Spirit is the second aspect. He is our advocate and he defends us. He defends us from those who accuse us: from ourselves when we do not love and forgive ourselves, when we go so far as perhaps telling ourselves that we are failures and good for nothing; from the world who discards those who do not fit into its patterns and models; from the devil who is the “accuser” par excellence and the divider (cf. Rev 12:10), and does everything to make us feel incapable and unhappy.

In the face of all these accusing thoughts, the Holy Spirit suggests to us how to respond. How? The Paraclete, Jesus says, is the One who “reminds us of everything Jesus told us” (cf. Jn 14:26). He reminds us, therefore, of the words of the Gospel, and thus enables us to respond to the accusing devil, not with our own words, but with the Lord’s own words. He reminds us, above all, that Jesus always spoke of the Father who is in heaven, he made the Father known to us, and revealed the Father’s love for us, who are his children. If we call on the Spirit, we will learn to embrace and recall the most important reality of life that protects us from the accusations of evil. And what is the most important reality in life? That we are beloved children of God. We are God’s beloved children: this is the most important reality, and the Spirit reminds us of this.

Brothers and sisters, let us ask ourselves today: Do we call on the Holy Spirit? Do we pray to him often? Let us not forget about the one who is close to us, or rather, is within us! Then: Do we listen to his voice, both when he encourages us and when he corrects us? Do we respond with Jesus’ words to the accusations from the evil one, to the “tribunals” of life? Do we remember that we are beloved children of God? May Mary make us docile to the voice of the Holy Spirit and sensitive to his presence.

Pope Francis
Saint Peter’s Square
Sunday, 14 May 2023

He is risen, tell the story
To the nations of the night;
From their sin and from their blindness,
Let them walk in Easter light.
Now begins a new creation,
Now has come our true salvation.
Jesus Christ, the Son of God!

Mary goes to tell the others
Of the wonders she has seen;
John and Peter come a-running
What can all this truly mean?
O Rabboni, Master holy,
To appear to one so lowly!
Jesus Christ, the Son of God!

He has cut down death and evil,
He has conquered all despair;
He has lifted from our shoulders,
All the weight of anxious care.
Risen Brother, now before you,
We will worship and adore you.
Jesus Christ, the Son of God!

Now get busy, bring the message,
So that all may come to know
There is hope for saint and sinner,
For our God has loved us so.
Ev’ry church bell is a-ringing,
Ev’ry Christian now is singing.
Jesus Christ, the Son of God!

03/05/2026

Acts 6:1-7; 1 Peter 2:4-9; John 14:1-12

The Gospel of today’s Liturgy is taken from Jesus’ last discourse before his death. The disciples’ hearts are troubled, but the Lord speaks reassuring words to them, inviting them not to be afraid: do not be afraid. Indeed, he is not abandoning them, but is going to prepare a place for them and to guide them towards that destination. The Lord today thus shows all of us the wonderful place to go, and, at the same time, tells us how to get there; he shows us the path to travel. He tells us where to go and how to get there.

First of all, where to go. Jesus sees the disciples’ distress, he sees their fear of being abandoned, just as happens to us when we are forced to separate from someone we care for. And so, he says: “I go to prepare a place for you… that where I am you may be also”. Jesus uses the familiar image of home, the place of relationships and intimacy. In the Father’s house — he says to his friends, and to each one of us — there is room for you, you are welcome, you will be received forever with the warmth of an embrace, and I am in Heaven to prepare a place for you! He prepares for us that embrace with the Father, the place for all eternity.

Brothers and sisters, this Word is a source of consolation, and it is a source of hope for us. Jesus did not separate himself from us, but rather opened the way for us, anticipating our final destination: the encounter with God the Father, in whose heart there is a place for each one of us. So, when we experience fatigue, bewilderment and even failure, let us remember where our life is headed. We must not lose sight of the destination, even if today we run the risk of overlooking it, of forgetting the final questions, the important ones: where are we going? Where are we headed? What is worth living for? Without these questions, we flatten our life only into the present. We think we must enjoy it as much as possible and end up living day by day, without purpose, without a goal. Instead, our homeland is in heaven (cf. Phil 3:20); let us not forget the greatness and the beauty of our destination!

Once we have discovered the destination, we too, like the apostle Thomas in today’s Gospel, wonder: how can we get there? What is the way? At times, especially when there are major problems to face and there is the sensation that evil is stronger, we wonder: what should I do, what path should I follow? Let us listen to Jesus’ answer: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life”. “I am the way”. Jesus himself is the way to follow to live in truth and to have life in abundance. He is the way and therefore faith in him is not a “package of ideas” in which to believe, but rather a road to be travelled, a journey to undertake, a path with him. It is following Jesus, because he is the way that leads to unfailing happiness. Following Jesus and imitating him, especially with gestures of closeness and mercy towards others. This is the compass for reaching Heaven: loving Jesus, the way, becoming signs of his love on earth.

Brothers and sisters, let us live the present, let us take the present in hand, but let us not be overwhelmed. Let us look up, let us look to Heaven, let us remember the goal, let us think that we are called to eternity, to the encounter with God. And, from Heaven to the heart, let us today renew the choice of Jesus, the choice to love him and to walk behind him. May the Virgin Mary, who following Jesus, has already reached the destination, sustain our hope.

Pope Francis
Saint Peter’s Square
Sunday, 7 May 2023

O praise our great and gracious Lord,
And call upon his name;
To strains of joy tune every chord,
His mighty acts proclaim:
Tell how he led his chosen race
From Pharaoh’s heavy hand,
And led them by his sovereign grace
To seek the promised land.

He gave the shadowing cloud by day,
The moving fire by night,
To guide his people on their way,
And make their darkness light:
To us the light of Christ our Lord
Illumines all our ways;
He leads us by his gospel word,
And turns our sighs to praise.

We too have manna from above,
The bread that came from heaven;
And he who brought salvation nigh
Has living waters given:
A rock is ours, from whence the spring
In rich abundance flows,
And Christ that rock, our priest, our king,
Both life and health bestows.

Come let us prize this heavenly food,
And trust our heavenly guide,
So shall we find death’s fearful flood
Serene as Jordan’s tide;
So safely reach th’eternal shore,
No more by ills opprest;
Where saints their Lord and God adore,
And in his glory, rest.

Image: Study for ‘I Am the Way, the Truth, and the Life’, 1958; Roman Verostko, 1929-2024; Saint Vincent College, 300 Fraser Purchase Road, Latrobe, Pennsylvania, USA

01/05/2026

The happy birds Te Deum sing,
’Tis Mary’s month of May;
Her smile turns winter into spring,
And darkness into day;
And there’s a fragrance in the air,
The bells their music make,
And O the world is bright and fair,
And all for Mary’s sake.

Where’er we seek the holy Child,
At every sacred spot,
We meet the Mother undefiled;
Who shun her seek him not:
At cloistered Nazareth we see,
At haunted Bethlehem,
The throne of Jesus, Mary’s knee,
Her smile, his diadem.

The Daughter, Mother, Spouse of God,
None silence her appeal
Who long to tread where Jesus trod,
What Jesus felt to feel.
O Virgin-born, from thee we learn
To love thy Mother dear;
Her teach us duly to discern,
And rightly to revere.

To love the Mother, people say,
Is to defraud the Son;
For them, alas, there dawns no May,
Until their hearts are won:
Then, when their hearts begin to burn,
Ah, then, to Jesus true,
And loving whom he loves, they learn
To love Saint Mary too.

How many are the thoughts that throng
On faithful souls to-day!
All year we sing our Lady’s song,
’Tis still the song of May:
Magnificat! O may we feel
That rapture more and more;
And chiefly, Lord, what time we kneel
Thine altar-throne before.

’Tis then, when at thy feet we pray,
We share our Lady’s mirth;
Her joy we know who hail to-day
Thy Eucharistic birth;
That trembling joy to Mary sent,
Ah, Christians know it well,
With whom in his dear sacrament
Their Saviour deigns to dwell.

Yes, Mary’s month has come again,
The merry month of May;
And sufferers forget their pain,
And sorrows flee away,
And joys return, the hearts whose moan
Was desolate erewhile
Are blithe and gay, once more they own
The charm of Mary’s smile.

Thy Son our Brother is, and we,
Whatever may betide,
A Mother, Mary, have in thee,
A guardian and a guide;
Thy smiles a tale of gladness tell
No words can ever say;
If but, like thee, we love him well,
The year will all be May.

All hail! An angel spake the words
We lovingly repeat;
The song-notes of the singing birds
They are not half so sweet:
This is a music that endures,
It cannot pass away,
For Mary’s children it ensures
A never-ending May.

Community of the Holy Cross

07/06/2026

31/05/2026

24/05/2026

17/05/2026

14/05/2026

10/05/2026

03/05/2026

01/05/2026

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