The alcoholic only turns to Jesus because He has wine in His veins
And I know a man that turned his back on rehabilitation
So to focus on reconciliation

And he did it well
But he winced when drinking His blood
The pain of redemption, perhaps
A hundred eyes on him with his vice on his tongue

It could have been his own blood in the chalice for all he gave
He will not let you be tried beyond what you are able to bear
They looked down on him up on that altar
And prayed for him to be forgiven

The spirits he confides in are not holy
And they stain his Jesus-white robes
He chose the hardest penance
On direct path to righteousness  

Not even a hundred hail Marys could fix this
Vinegar on a sponge looks tempting
Cleanse me from all my sin
You better make sure His diary is clear

They do not understand
That for him it carries no salvation
An inconvenience of eternal life
Is to suffer for the beginning

'An inquiry examining institutional *** abuse in Australia has heard 7% of the nation's Catholic priests allegedly abused children between 1950 and 2010.'

Can the bricks from all the churches
create orphanages,

can the cloth from all the robes
warm the freezing,

can the wine from all the altars
cheer the helpless,

can the jewels from all the crosses
fund the starving,

can the gold from all the goblets
ease the suffering,

can the wood from all the pulpits
house the homeless,

can the glass from all the windows
frame the darkness,

can the bones from all the priests
fertilize the fields,

can the pain from all the suffering
be acknowledged,

can the tears from all the children
be as witness,

can the crimes of all the clergy
be always remembered,

can the church in all its guilt
be just obliterated.

The First Sorrowful Mystery: The Agony in the Garden

Shortly before his death, Jesus goes to the garden to pray for grace and strength. He tells his disciples "Watch and Pray" Jesus enters into prayer so deeply that his sweat is as drops of blood mixing on the ground with his tears. Even in the great darknss and desolation, he finds strength to say: "Let this cup pass before me. But not my will, but as you will it Father."

Jesus tells us as he told his disciples "Watch and Pray". It sounds like a pretty simple task, but it's hard. In the midst of the darkness and despair, Jesus found strength and grace in prayer to his Father. In our darkest times, we can also call on our Father in heaven to sustain us. Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane was as the Garden of Eden after the sin of Adam and Eve. Blood was used to cover sin and wash it away. The blood, sweat and tears in the garden are a reminder of our fallen state as well as an example of the Eucharist with blood and water.

We Pray: Jesus, help us to remember that whatever we go through in life, even and especially in our darkest times, remind us of the strength and grace we receive from our Heavenly Father. Help us also remember of your great love for us in your suffering and agony. Even when we fail, when we sin, when we turn away, you are with us. You love us, you forgive us, you run out to us and take us back. You counted up the cost and we are worth it. It cost everything and you paid the price so we wouldn't have to. Nothing we could ever do could amount to what you gave The best I can do is offer my life for you and my neighbor and try to die to myself daily. I am truly and eternally grateful, for by your amazing grace, I have the opportunity to be with you for all eternity. Thank you Jesus!

May our prayers be as incense rising up
Our joys and sufferings, our longings, be a sweet perfume unto you
We bow our heads, we bend our knees
We lift our hearts and we begin to find peace.
We lift our voices and our hands
Sing together across seas and land.
Lifted up as we fall down
We, the nail in your hands, a thorn on the crown.

You are loved more dearly than you'll ever know.
Hold my hand, follow me into the light, we'll take it slow.
You're walking on the water while the waves and wind rage on
But fear not, I'll never let you go.
I have heard your cries, I have heard your prayers.
Though you forsake me, I will never forsake you.
I hold you in my hand, I hold the sun in place,
I know you, I love you, I give you my life:
Will you do the same for me?
Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, welcome the sinner and the saint.
Welcome the poor into your home and into your heart.

You do the same for me;
You make me all I am.
You raise me up to more than I can be on my own.
You fill my soul with your song,
You sing your love over my life and I'm amazed.
I'm aware of your presence, but sometimes I can't see
The greatness of your master plan and why it has to be.
But I trust you, Lord help me to believe.

Some day I'll understand the wisdom of your plan
When all will be revealed and all will be made new
When I'm finally home where I can be with you.

But until that time Lord, be with me today.
Free me from these chains that bind, be here with me always.

Amen

By: Jack Wilder (Ramon Carlos T. Castilo)

I'd like to put all my love,
Into this poem,
And as I write,
I think to myself,
It'll overflow and take long,
Just like the blessings you've given,
And all the good people,
Surrounded me with,
Every chance you laid in front,
And every lesson you've taught,
I am, forever greatful my Lord,
For you are Almighty and all knowing,
You give grace and is forgiving,
I have you to thank,
For this breath I was given,
And as I grow and prosper,
In your opus and word,
My dear heavenly Father,
This life, I dedicate to you.

all i know of debt
is that my sins have
been paid for

and guilt
is a heavy burden

when i look
at my empty hands,
i do not know
what to give back

when i look
at the world, i marvel
at the magnitude
of what i owe

so much so
that i kneel

before you
and forget
how to stand

She was this silver moon
alight her seldom seen swing
or virtually then
as time in a bottle

and in this antiquity
on Saturday night
she grew the orchard
by the cloverleaf

when her bridge opened wide
and she felt so granted
that it was her ambiance or garth
near a point then

she went combing a ride
the bus did go that way
and her muggy wantonness
burst inside her chest every moment

That boy on the street is running away
He has a family waiting at home
You pull over the car on the highway
And talk to him, saying he cannot roam.

Mercy is telling him to stop running
Reminding him of his friends back in town
Those kids in school he'll never stop missing
His sister will cry if he's not around.

You introduce him to a simple prayer
One that shows him forgiveness at not cost
You say running away gets you nowhere
You've tried it before and only got lost.

Compelled to help the boy on the street
He happily goes home, not in defeat.

i asked my god for rest
and in pagan desperation
he gave me apolaki
god of the sun and war
i mistook him for seraphim
God struck me down
with the force of a thousand spaniards
reaching my country's once untouched shores

your land had a god of the sun and war
before they pinned you in virginal grace
your country wanted you to see the sun
and remember war was not for the bloodthirsty
for your people it was god's will

i asked my god for love
and in carnal frustration
he gave me anagolay
goddess of lost things
i mistook her for a saint
archangels unsheathed their swords
celestial eyes filled with rage

your land had known loss
long before you did
your country had known loss
long before love had made it known
you will find yourself again

i asked my god for light
and in familiar search
he gave me tala
goddess of stars
and i stopped seeing them as stained glass figures
i no longer saw my banished gods
engulfed in the power of rome

my land saw the stars before God's first day
"let there be light" He said and apolaki bowed in recognition
tala greeted Him with a smile and promise
anagolay laughed in joy and gratitude
my country had gods before wooden crosses
before the galleons carrying friars came armed in holy water
before my archipelago had become a sprawl of cathedrals

now i'd like to think my God and bathala smile down on me
saint jude conspiring with lakapati
cherubim sleeping in diyan masalanta's arms
i'd like to think the gods are at peace
i'd like to think they would only want me to remember
to never forget every disfigured reflection of the almighty

Thy will be done.