The Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception

Immaculate Conception

by Jusepe de Ribera, 1635

The Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception

Many people misunderstand the term, Immaculate Conception, thinking that because this term has been associated with Jesus' mother, Mary, and the Virgin birth, that because He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, that became the immaculate conception. However, those individuals would be wrong.

Mary was born with her soul in an immaculate state in order to give birth to the Son of God. 

Winter's Winds Conquered

A Wintry East Lake, Danbury, Connecticut 

Winter's Winds Conquered

Winds from the North wail

as if they are reminding me 

of something I may have forgotten, 

like a friend in need, or items out of place

to which I should focus my attentions. 

The winds are relentless. 

Perhaps, they are telling me to be the same. 

Don't give up! It's all fine; have faith. 

My curiosity piqued, I lift my gaze

 to feel the Sun's warmth, strength, guidance.

So I make a pot of steaming beef stew 

with thick, rich gravy to warm me inside. 

Then, I whip up a batch of cornbread

of course, in my cast iron pot:

Vittles that warm the body, heart, and soul. 

Then, thoughts turn to you with your radiance:

warmth that still rivals the sun's glow, 

and I am at peace, smiling from memories,

the ones always embracing my heart, 

their fervent comfort conquering winter's bite.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

You can hear me recite this verse by clicking HERE. 

Happy Thanksgiving! (Click the photo to hear a lovely medley of Thanksgiving Hymns.)

(Photo from Google Images)

As Thanksgiving Day draws near, and we Americans reflect upon the many blessings in our lives, I extend my sincere thanks to all of you ladies and gentlemen who have visited this blog. Your kind words and gentle spirits have meant the world to me. 

God bless! ~ Dr. Jeanne Iris

Be Leaf - Belief

An innovative idea is a call to action to make a difference in this world from a perspective of Love. A single leaf can be an example of a metaphor for the human condition. 

Since transformation originates from a single notion, I thought this little poem may contribute a genesis of belief.  

Oak tree leaves from my garden

 

Be Leaf 

Here

remains the leaf

not insignificant

silent, 

well formed

turned over and over.

Suspended,

it resides in belief

of the sublime reminder:

 the Journey of  Love

emanates, embraces,

 enwraps, ensues... 

in God's time.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos  

To hear me recite this, please click HERE.

Sydney Owenson: Rituals and Political Reality through Saint Mary Magdalene in Her Narrative, 'Saint Clair'

Stained Glass Image of Mary Magdalene, surrounded by roses

from Google Images

From my book, Innovation in Rhetoric in the Writing of Sydney Owenson...
pp. 208-209:

In her novel, St. Clair, Owenson presents autonomy through her lexical choices to illustrate the dichotomy of ritual, be it societal or religious. In doing so, she presents the conundrum of political ritual, that of electing or promoting individuals into public office in order to appease an elitist few at the expense of the majority who must abide by the established legalities: 

I remember to have seen in a Benedictine convent at Vendome a relic which raised a considerable revenue to its possessors, from the superstitious devotion which was paid to it; it was a crystal vial, presented by an angel to Mary Magdalene, and supposed to have contained the tear dropped by her divine Reformer to the memory of his departed friend. The allusion may be profane; but my faded rose-leaf, with the tear of genius and sensibility, is to me what the sacred vial is to the monks of St Benedict; from a motive less devout, I confess, in one sense, but certainly more disinterested in another. (St. Clair, vol. I, pp. 166-167)

As Sydney Owenson interweaves the blind devotion to rituals of Catholics with those of the French Revolution, she carefully demonstrates the affiliation of church and state, contrary to legislative decrees in the British Act of Union 1801, which states that those of a particular religious affiliation would not be permitted to hold public office. Thus, those jurisdictions, which primarily consist of Catholic citizens, would not receive representation within the governmental forums and subsequently, would not receive legislation in their favor. Owenson presents this conflicting belief system by cleverly choosing Mary Magdalene, the woman chosen by a few selected medieval scribes to be represented historically as a woman scorned, yet in Owenson's narrative, St. Clair, Mary Magdalene is the source of a worshipped relic. In her revolutionary, albeit romantic, style, Owenson challenges her aristocratic audience to reconsider its dependence on ritualistic prejudice against the population it wishes to control. 

Owenson concludes this passage with a reference to a rose, her personal symbol for Ireland. She uses the adjectives, ‘faded, with a tear of genius and sensibility,’ to describe this weathered bloom. This incongruous set of descriptions for a flower held as a ‘sacred vial’ indicates a conflicted perspective. In the following sentence, she reveals with more clarity her conflict, “I confess in one sense but certainly more disinterested in another.” If Owenson attempts to confess to her reading audience her own disinterest in the viability of questionable sacredness in religious relics, she does so by linking her beloved countrymen and women with the possibilities of becoming more conscious of their political reality through their symbolic treasures, such as the weathered rose as the symbol of ancient luster.

Bicycle Dreams

Bicycle Dreams

Frozen flakes,

each one different from the next

tumble gently 

to fulfill their divine calling

reforming this landscape

into a wintry haven,

providing a cooling respite

for parked bicycles

which dream 

of the fun in the rolling 

through those good ol'

steamy 

'dog days' of summer. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

You can hear my reading of this poem, by clicking HERE. 

Out of the Fog

I took this photo in Dublin, Ireland...after being lost in Dun Laoghaire for hours.

I thought it was amazing that a small white cloud seemed to surround the light on the lamp post.

Head 

out of the fog,

and soon, 

distortion dissipates. 

Recognition 

of a flawed distinction 

leads to a 

Renaissance.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos