Advent Upon Us...Oh My!

It rolls around every year about this time...Advent, that season of early Christmas music, and Evangelical churches filling the world with Christmas Pageants before the liturgy has a chance to fully prepare our hearts for the Incarnation. I frankly could care less what music plays in stores, as I try to block out any music I have not chosen to listen to. Plus, if the Evangelicals want to act like it's already Christmas Lite, then fine, let them, they have no tradition to teach them otherwise.

We do. The liturgical churches do know that Advent is a season of preparation for the coming of Christ. The question the the Evangelicals ask us is: which coming of Christ? Well, not the actual Second Coming/Rapture sort of thing. Then what kind of coming of Christ are we talking about here?

The kind where Christ is born in your heart, and the season of Advent prepares us, helps to cleanse us, shows us the promises, and finally delivers into our hearts the Incarnation itself. Christ is born, yes, in us. In you. In me. For families it's time to drag out advent calendars and play cutesy games for the buildup to Christmas. For the Liturgy of the Hours, it's some heavy reading. For the monks at Gethsemani it's a busy time with fruitcakes, fudge, and cheese.

For me advent is going to be the coming back to weekday and all Sunday masses at the Abbey. I love the Sisters of Charity of Nazareth, but they are not my first obligation. My spirituality is contemplative and monastic. My heart is at Gethsemani and the death of Fr. Chrysogonus made me realize that so strongly I felt guilty today being at Mass in St. Vincent's Church.

To celebrate advent appropriately I shall clean out my heart of all needless things, unclutter my spiritual closet, sweep out the corners of my prayer life, and try to make a dwelling for Christ to be born within me. I shall anticipate the coming of the Lord like the "groaning of all creation longing for the revelation of the children of God."

It is this time of year that present the greatest challenges to me spiritually. Staying with it, keeping it clear that how I feel is not how I am with God. The greatest gift I've been given, and it's even pre-Advent is that my Joy and my Love is greater than most people can handle. Well, tough. It's not my Joy or my Love it is God's Joy and Love. Therefore, I shan't worry any longer that I'm too much for some people. Personally I don't want to cross lines or upset anyone, but the bottom line is, if Joy and Love are too much for you, then you should look to yourself, and not blame it on me.

Trappist Way of Death

I arrived at the church yesterday around 2:30, and took my place in the aisle choir stalls. There were new arrivals, all clearly grieving. Two monks were reading aloud the Psalms, as they had been doing every since his body was brought into the church. It felt like a time warp, only a few hours before I'd left in the freezing night air, and returned in the daylight to find things exactly as they were when I left. It was a little chilly in the church, and it could just as easily have been the 12th century as the 21st, in that Abbey church of stark whiteness, with that "awesome presence" as Br. Paul describes it filling the atmosphere so thick you can hardly take a breath without hearing God's own breathing.

The daylight revealed more than ever that the body is nothing but a home for the soul while the soul is in human form. It was not Fr. Chrysogonus in the casket. It didn't even look like him. Even the ravages of illness don't do what I saw in the daylight. For the first time I realized that death removes the essence of the individual. Sure, I saw my own father in his coffin, and somewhat noticed the difference, but yesterday I saw it in the spiritual sense. The beautiful soul had departed, the "golden bowl is broken." I was sitting with a corpse, not a man. I was sitting with a memory, and honoring what had been the body of someone very dear, to many people. Yet, Fr. Chrysogonus was not in that coffin and no where near the church. He had already gone to the celestial choir, no doubt to tune them up a bit.

And when it came time for the funeral, I was moved by what I continue to see as the silent solemnity with which the Trappist worship, pray, and bury their dead. Every piece of chant we sang was a chant Fr. Chrysogonus had adapted from the Gregorian original. Was his name listed anywhere under any of those chants? Absolutely not. Fr. Chrysogonus was convinced that any good musical thing he did came from the Holy Spirit and not through himself. A very moving moment at the offertory was when his publisher played on the guitar, "Christ is risen, truly risen." A piece composed by Father.

At the grave we sang litanies and some responses as they carefully -- no, lovingly -- lowered his body down into the grave. I was honored to throw a handful of dirt into the grave and say a simple, "goodbye, Father."

Sitting Vigil with Fr. Chrysogonus

Yesterday I went to the Abbey for the reception of the body of Fr. Chrysogonus into the church. Of all the Trappist funerals I have attended, the reception of the body into the church I have not witnessed. It is worth witnessing.

When the death knell began to ring out a small procession from the monks end of the church crossed from the sacristy. It consisted of a thurifer, paschal candle, Abbot and his chaplain (in other words, someone to hold the book). After a few minutes, singing -- very vague in the distance -- was heard, then speaking. After that more singing, chanting, response, and more chanting. During all this time the bell is still slowly ringing the death knell.

Eventually they appeared at the far end of the church: thurifer putting out clouds of incense, paschal candle, the coffin carried by six monks, Abbot, chaplain, then the community in double file. Abbot Elias and the thurifer and the chaplain all came to stand at the head of the coffin in front of the paschal candle, backs to us so they were facing the community. Prayers, and then the most thorough censing of a body I've ever seen. After that, a prayer and then a blessing. As the community took their place for the start of Vespers, the painted wooden cross was placed at Fr. Chrysogonus feet.

After dinner I came up to start my vigil. Already two monks were saying psalms, one was Br. Rene. I sat in one of the choir stalls near the body. If you knew Fr. Chrysogonus in life then you remember the joyous face, the smiling man with love and goodness just pouring out of him. The beautiful spirit was gone and all that remained was skin stretched across bones. Still, I sat and told him all the things he would not allow me to say in life, because of his humility.

"How beautifully you played.
How lovely and breathtaking your improvisations.
How deep your knowledge.
How much my musical hero you were.
How much you inspired me.
How much you moved me.
How much I loved you.
How much I learned from you."

I stayed until about 9pm and then went home. I will return today about 2 and resume the vigil. His brother monks have never stopped their vigil. All night long they read the Psalms. Some of which he had set to unforgettable music.

And so, I offer this.

John Donne
HOLY SONNETS.

X.

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so ;
For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy picture[s] be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'rt slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke ; why swell'st thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more ; Death, thou shalt die.

Rest in Peace Fr. Chrysogonus

After not being at Mass at Gethsemni since the first Sunday of November, I had a feeling last night it was time to go there today. While I was there, Brother Luke walked up and made sign language to Fr. Elias, just before communion. Elias was visibily moved but went on with Mass. Just before the dismissal he announced the Fr. Chrysogonus had died.

I am at a loss for words except to say that the world, the Abbey, the OCSO, all of church music, and the Church itself, lost today one of its most gifted, and beloved figures. My life was changed by hearing how he had adapted the chant of the 12th century to the needs of the 20th. At the age of 18 I heard him play and never forgot his powerful improvisational skills. I hope and pray that anyone who has recorded anything he improvised will transcribe it, collect it and publish it, for he was one of a kind.

A loving man, a gifted man, and a man of God. A Trappist who did not die on St. Cecelia's day, or St. Chrysogonus day, tomorrow, instead he Christ the King came for our Fr. Chrysogonus. So, I offer what John Dryden offered on the death of his friend Henry Purcell.

An Ode, On the Death of Mr. Henry Purcell
( Late Servant to his Majesty, Organist of the Chapel Royal

I

Mark how the Lark and Linnet Sing,
With rival Notes
They strain their warbling Throats,
To welcome in the Spring.
But in the close of Night,
When Philomel begins her Heav'nly lay,
They cease their mutual spite,
Drink in her Music with delight,
And list'ning and silent, and silent and list'ning,
And list'ning and silent obey.

II

So ceas'd the rival Crew when Purcell came,
They Sung no more, or only Sung his Fame.
Struck dumb they all admir'd the God-like Man,
The God-like Man,
Alas, too soon retir'd,
As He too late began.
We beg not Hell, our Orpheus to restore,
Had He been there,
Their Sovereign's fear
Had sent Him back before.
The pow'r of Harmony too well they know,
He long e'er this had Tun'd their jarring Sphere,
And left no Hell below.

III

The Heav'nly Choir, who heard his Notes from high,
Let down the Scale of Music from the Sky:
They handed him along,
And all the way He taught, and all the way they Sung.
Ye Brethren of the Lyre, and tuneful Voice,
Lament his Lot: but at your own rejoice.
Now live secure and linger out your days,
The Gods are pleas'd alone with Purcell's Lays,
Nor know to mend their Choice.

John Dryden

Christ the King and Internet Suicide

When I determined to pray every day for those on the verge of suicide little did I know that Abraham Biggs was going to commit suicide on his webcam. Last night I said a rosary for him and his family. The tragedy of it is that Abraham was Bipolar and wrote as his last words, "I'm a failure."

What is on my mind is how often those very words have rattled in my own brain and come out of my own mouth. I am a failure. It raises something dark and sticky in my soul that I can only give to God. Lately, the best thing I've managed to do is to continually turn to God with the renunciations and battles that are waged with them, right by myself. Crosses are laid on my shoulders and I'm learning to bear them, without too much compliant as I try to be more pliable to the Holy Spirit.

I know nothing of Abraham Biggs life, or his faith, but I prayed for an answer as to why some of us have faith so strong it will not let us die, and others do not. It seems impossible to me that someone with faith could do this. However, I know for a fact that mental illness is greater than just about anything I've wrestled with in my entire life.

So what can I do? I can only turn to Christ the King, and celebrate his victory over death, and darkness, and yes, mental illness. Think of all those possessed with demons in the NT and ask yourself, was that mental illness? Thank God, that our God is a God who loves us all, and was willing to suffer for us all, and to die in agony for each, and every one of us.

All I can do for Abraham Biggs is to give him into the hands of Christ the King who loves him, will hold him close and give him the peace that so eluded the poor young man here in this 'vale of tears.' Yes, I'm being maudlin, but there are times that the situation calls for maudlin.

John Donne HOLY SONNETS. VIII. If faithful souls be alike glorified As angels, then my father's soul doth see, And adds this even to full felicity, That valiantly I hell's wide mouth o'erstride. But if our minds to these souls be descried By circumstances, and by signs that be Apparent in us not immediately, How shall my mind's white truth by them be tried ? They see idolatrous lovers weep and mourn, And stile blasphemous conjurers to call On Jesu's name, and pharisaical Dissemblers feign devotion. Then turn, O pensive soul, to God, for He knows best Thy grief, for He put it into my breast.

Pope says church must care for the born as well as the unborn | National Catholic Reporter Conversation Cafe

Pope says church must care for the born as well as the unborn | National Catholic Reporter Conversation Cafe

Well now, what can I say? The pope either reads my blog, the pope and I were thinking the same thing. I suspect the latter, because he's bound to be a busy man. Read the article, it is everything I've been ranting about for two days.

ZENIT - Congolese Prelates Decry "Silent Genocide"

ZENIT - Congolese Prelates Decry "Silent Genocide"

Wow, what a relief to see that some Bishops in the world see that the already living matter too. I know my rant yesterday was bold, but it was thought out, and not a wild raving. I knew what I was saying. This article, as dreadful as the subject is, this is proof that sometimes abortion is the least of your worries. Only in a country as coddled and pampered as the U.S. could abortion take the front seat. It won't matter much in the Congo for a while.

In The United States, especially in the Catholic Church and big time Evangelical Churches, the larger world perspective is lost. We worship in carpeted splendor, sleep in alarm-set safety, depends upon a largely good police force. So of course we have the leisure to worry about things like abortion...the Prelates of the Congo don't have that luxury. There, people sleep in fear of attack, of being hacked to death. Or fear of having their infant daughter raped. In these types of situations our whiny attack is so unimportant that it almost makes me ashamed.

Report: Illegal immigrant minors mistreated by US

Report: Illegal immigrant minors mistreated by US

I think this is the perfect example of the needs of already born humans that we need to be more concerned about. A cheerful quote follows:

"An estimated 43,000 unaccompanied illegal immigrant children were removed from the U.S. in 2007, according to the report. They were caught while traveling alone, or with siblings, other children or adults whom they may not know. "

St. Francis Xavier Cabrini, Immigrants, and Bishops

The Bishops got together this week and made a big to-do about being ready to die--die! to stop the passage of the bill President Elect Obama has promised to sign, but everyone knows will never pass the House much less get to the Senate. That really irritated me because those same Bishops need to be handling pastoral matters of sexual abuse which are still a major pastoral concern. The whole thing struck me as "lets turn attention away form sex scandals."

Okay, enough of that. They do what they do, I do what I do. So I was feeling quite let down by the Bishops, wondering when will they bother to look after the already living. I mean, the death penalty is in place, they don't say they are ready to die to stop that. We have people dying of starvation in our own nation, they don't say they are ready to die to stop that either. What about the poor, didn't a certain Pope of beloved memory mention a preferential option for the poor? And saying that the unborn are the poorest of all is just another way of saying "it's too much work to tackle poverty."

Then today comes along and I meet a new saint. Francis Xavier Cabrini. If you want to know her history there are a number of good sites that will tell you more than you ever wanted to know about this humble, but powerhouse of a woman. She was sent to the United States to take care of immigrants by Pope Leo XIII.

Let's pause a minute here. Immigrants. Popes. Caring for immigrants. The United State at this very moment is in an immigration crisis. Of course, we're calling it illegal immigration, but that doesn't change the fact we are in a crisis. And yesterday the Bishops were raising holy hell over ready to die to stop Abortion when they never said they were read to Die to stop what is happening to the poor Mexicans who are dying in the desert because of unscrupulous coyotes, and turned away from a hope of new life from the border by a fence, and armed guards. They never said they were ready to Die right now! for the starving. When did they say they were ready to Die right now! for the abolition of the death penalty?

Yet, today is the feast of St. Francis Cabrini who came to America to care for immigrants, Italian immigrants specifically. Well, Dorothy Day is dead. Who will be the one that steps up and give their all for the immigrants that are suffering right now? Why aren't the Bishops up in arms over that? Why doesn't the Catholic Church take some responsibility for something other than fetuses!

For the record I think abortion is killing a living thing. And there have always been laws about injuring a pregnant woman. Okay? Everyone got that? I despise abortion. But I wonder, is it the only thing worth dying for???

NO. The Gospel of Jesus is not about fetuses only. The Gospel proclaims justice and right treatment for everyone. So why doesn't the Catholic Church act like they remember that? Because it's easier to thwack on the head those who are most vulnerable...a young, confused woman with a child she probably can't raise or support. They kneel outside of clinics so the woman who feels bad enough already can be emotionally scarred for life. Or best yet, stir up so much rhetoric that there were bombs and murders of doctors. Was any Bishop ready to Die right now! to stop that?

Now I expect a ton of reaction email from this post, but I am declaring that the gospel of Christ is for everyone, not just a brand new tadpole human. So bring it on conservatives. I'm no longer afraid of you. Someone needs to stand for the poor. You won't. Someone needs to stand for the immigrant. You won't. Someone needs to stand for the marginalized. You won't.

Well what do you stand for? Might makes right?

Monks brawl at Christian holy site in Jerusalem

Monks brawl at Christian holy site in Jerusalem

St. John Lateran

This is the oldest, and ranks first among the four great "patriarchal" basilicas of Rome. The site was, in ancient times, occupied by the palace of the family of the Laterani. A member of this family, P. Sextius Lateranus, was the first plebian to attain the rank of consul. In the time of Nero, another member of the family, Plautius Lateranus, at the time consul designatus was accused of conspiracy against the emperor, and his goods were confiscated. Juvenal mentions the palace, and speaks of it as being of some magnificence, "regiæ ædes Lateranorum".

I made the entire first part of this entry a link so no matter what you have to accidentally go and read what the Catholic Encyclopedia has to say about what is probably the oldest church in Christendom. For a more secular view click this lovely sentence for the wiki entry. I believe that it is important that we understand why there is a feast set aside for the founding of this church, as it's so important it celebrated tomorrow instead of the 32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time.

I think it has a great deal to do with the triumph of Constantine, the edict of Milan, and the rise of the Christian religion. Twelve popes did live there, countless restorations have tormented the building into its present shape and even the famous architect Borromini was hired to do the facade. Fascinating! but what has that to do with religion?

This quote should clear up why

The Lateran Basilica, whose dedication we celebrate every November, was donated to the Church by Constantine soon after he legalized Christianity in 313AD. Ever since it has been, as the official cathedral of the Pope, the mother church of all Christendom, the cathedral of the world.

We are celebrating the triumph of Constantine. Now, I admit it's possible I'm missing something here, so let's continue our search for why a building gets a feast day. So, at Americancatholic.com, Franciscan, of course, when you need clarity go to them... they say

Unlike the commemorations of other Roman churches (St. Mary Major, Sts. Peter and Paul), this anniversary is a feast. The dedication of a church is a feast for all its parishioners. St. John Lateran is, in a sense, the parish church of all Catholics, for it is the pope's parish, the cathedral church of the Bishop of Rome. This church is the spiritual home of the people who are the Church.

Okay, that is all well and good, I support it, and will gladly observe the Feast of its founding. What I question is why it's more important than the Sunday, a day set aside as an observance of the Resurrection of Christ, for whom we in church for, at all!

Well, I believe that it is because had Constantine not donated the palace to the Pope in the 300s, we'd not have a place to say it all started here. We mustn't forget that to the people of Rome, at least those who are Catholic, St. John Lateran is the Cathedral Church of Rome, not St. Peter's Basilica, which is the seat of the Papacy. St. John Lateran is the church of the Bishop of Rome. The pope is responsible for both roles.

Perhaps this feast is for the Pope's benefit as much as ours, to remind us that the needs of the people outside the Vatican State, are just as, if not more, important, as the needs of the rest of the world. When John XXIII became Pope he gave a raise to all the Vatican employees. When challenged with the words, "but we will have to give less to charity," he said, "Justice first, then charity."

Docile and Obdient? Me? Yes.

This may come as a surprise to all of you, but I can be docile and obedient. That does not mean I will not pitch a big bitching fit first. I'm not always sure why I wish to be docile and obedient except that it represents a virtue I am striving to achieve. As of my last post I was upset with the hierarchy for being arrogant, slow moving, and science retarded. Well, I still am. That doesn't mean that I intend to disobey them and go insisting the I be made a priest. You see, obedience has its own rewards. Even if you obey arrogance, you have in a mystical way, obeyed God.

Now what does this have to do with the fabulous me that you all know, love, and loathe by turn? Well, simple. I am working on my docile acceptance of things, and how almost pretty much everything is none of my business, as a deceased Gethsemani monk put it. You see, I get angry on behalf of others when in truth, I am not the arbiter of their rights in the first place. Let me be clear, there is a difference between being docile and being a door mat. There is also a difference between being the arbiter of things that are none of my business, and a standing up for someone being taken advantage of. And, for you who say never end a sentence with a preposition, I ask you "What are you talking about?"

You see, last night I had an old fashioned, full blown, torso ripping, anxiety attack of the old school where one is quite certain they shall surely die. I'm on meds to stop that sort of thing so why is it happening? Probably because my meds need adjusting. Let's just say it made my night a misery.

Still I prayed and said if this attack that is ravaging me can be turned into prayer for those who have no one to pray for them, then let it be and I can take it. God is up to something in my life, and as yet I do not know what it is. I love to tell God what God needs to do, and what my timetable is for doing it, but funny thing is that God seldom pays a bit of attention to my timetable or my direct orders! Hence, my efforts for docility. And here you thought I'd just picked docility out of the air to sound like a holy person. hahahahaha on you.

:-) I love you all

Is There No End to the Miracles of Creation?

Before you go another word further, click this link. Read that article and tell me if it is not entirely mind blowing, awesome, and a hundred other adjectives that don't even exist. You see, I followed with some interest what the Synod of Bishops did in Rome, and how they actually said something important, like we really ought to take care of our earth, and, science and faith don't really have to conflict.

Now before I launch into my spiel, let me say that Charles Borromeo died of the plague because he turned his episcopal palace into a hospital for plague victims and tended to them himself. All the other rich and powerful folks had left Milan by then. Now that is a real saint.

Of course, these are the same Bishops who say musn't ordain a gay man even though he is celibate, because he's disordered. In other words, so long as science doesn't conflict with the long held biases. Meaning genetics must not influence biases.

But who cares about that, unless you're a gay man with a calling to the priesthood, in which case I would imagine you care, very much. But what about all those gay Bishops, Cardinals, Priests and Msgr.? Shall they resign now? Will they step forward and take one for the team? Noooooooooooo, they shall remain out of the fray and maintain power and prestige. Funny, today is St. Charles Borromeo memorial, who said, according to the Office of Readings this morning, "let your life reflect what you preach."

I challenge the gay bishops, priest, cardinals and every other level in the hierarchy to resign your positions now that the word is out. Because if you don't, then you are a big fat liar who speaks from both sides of his mouth.

Today's gospel reading was about the rich man who prepared and dinner and when the slave went to tell the guests everything was ready they all had excuses why they couldn't come to dinner. The rich man then sent the slave out to gather the beggars and everyone off the streets. Then there was still room so he sent the slave out onto the road to get travelers to come in to his feast with the words, "those whom I invited will not taste my dinner."

Now all of this does not mean that I am at odds with Rome. The truth is, I believe that it will take at least another hundred years before our pet biases about sexuality, or even female priests, will pass into the past. But I challenge what I see as silliness from men who wear clothing that costs thousands of dollars, spend thousands of dollars to go have a meeting in Rome, and then not have enough money to keep the poor fed. That does worry me a bit.

I shall never forget when Fr. Elias Dietz became Abbot Elias Dietz, he knelt before the Archbishop who wore probably $2000 worth of finery, not to mention his find hand made clothing underneath all that. Fr. Dietz was in about, oh, $230 of cloth. Hmmm, something of a statement there.

So there you have it. My thoughts for today. If I have angered you, sorry. If I have please you, think twice before rubbing it in on someone else. And may God have mercy on me, God's unworthy servant.

One thing I have noticed since I became a Catholic, there is no lack of saints days. Today is St. Martin de Porres. I'm offering two sites on him today because he is interesting, and on top of that, he was the product of a Spaniard and a black woman. That made him a non-desirable back in 1579, Lima, Peru.

You will also begin to notice a slight change in the format of what I'm willing to publish in my blog. First of all, I'm done with all the ultra conservative "bring back the old days" sites, or the Mother Angelica shopping channel sites. You think I'm kidding? Check out EWTN for Religious Shopping. It is there. Doesn't that make you want to run out screaming into the street? Well, for those who keep writing me asking "how can you be liberal and a catholic?" All I can say is, keep it to yourself. You have a wide variety of websites to indulge your conservative self in, leave the rest of us who only want to live a life as Catholics who remember God is Love, and that Love triumphs over Law.

Now some of my readers are thinking, is he trying to start a war? No, I'm saying if you write to me with your conservative inanities I will simply delete your comment and go right on as if you had not written me at all. We will not be hostages to the conservative movement anymore.

God Speed to You All.

Absolute Trust

Something I have learned in the past year was put into flawless words by Bl. John XXIII. "During the three years of my pontificate I have learned to have absolute trust in all things concerning the present, and perfect tranquility regarding the future." He wrote that while all hell was breaking loose around him because he'd called a huge Council. Vatican II. As I sit and struggle with anger, financial fear, and worry, I recall those words and they give me a measure of peace and comfort.

Not long ago God let me understand three things: 1. I am taking care of you. 2. I have a surprise for you. 3. It will bring you great joy.

I had forgotten those words until yesterday when I got fired. So the firing was a surprise, and it may, or may not, be the surprise in number 2, but I have to live based upon "absolute trust in all thing concerning the present." It is in this uncertainty and fear, this feeling of being completely disconnected, that somehow I am doing God's will by trusting -- not overreacting, not giving in to anger, not cursing God, not wanting to die; etc; et al; ad nauseum.

So, I push forward and bring forward some poetry for those of you who are learning to love John Donne as I do.

John Donne



HOLY SONNETS.

VII.

At the round earth's imagined corners blow
Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise
From death, you numberless infinities
Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go ;
All whom the flood did, and fire shall o'erthrow,
All whom war, dea[r]th, age, agues, tyrannies,
Despair, law, chance hath slain, and you, whose eyes
Shall behold God, and never taste death's woe.
But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space ;
For, if above all these my sins abound,
'Tis late to ask abundance of Thy grace,
When we are there. Here on this lowly ground,
Teach me how to repent, for that's as good
As if Thou hadst seal'd my pardon with Thy blood.