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whatwewrotepodcast · 4 months ago

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Pomegranates

He doesn’t visit often. It isn’t really his scene. The bar crouches on the corner of a busy street, gargoyle-like with its slump shouldered grey stones and grimy windows. The flickering neon sign sputters above the entrance. Nysus, it proclaims. Primordial magic stops the mortals from sparing it more than a passing glance. None of them so much as pause as the tall figure passes between them, hands buried deep in the pockets of his long black coat. They shiver and put their heads down, hurrying on their way. It is cold, a bitter wind whistling down the street. It hadn’t been cold before he arrived.

There is no bell over the door, and no one looks towards him as he steps over the creaking threshold into the dim interior. The door clicks closed behind him and he pauses in the doorway, taking in the usual scene. The lights are low and golden hued, the floor sticky, the paint peeling. Nysus’ isn’t what it once was. And yet it has never changed. Even erstwhile visitors like him know better than to venture to the back corner, where the old man slumps in a booth beneath a flickering lamp; his hoary seaweed beard trailing across the table, the barnacles crusting along his hairline glinting wetly as he cradles a tankard. Knew to avoid the main bar, where the lithe limbed and gold skinned laugh and leer and toast to long forgotten glory. There, the woman with hair of spun gold, the twins with predators’ eyes. The warrior prince with blood on his hands, the youth whose voice carries the beating of wings in every word. Worst of all, the groping, leering king, hands always wandering. All so boring, all so familiar.

Perhaps that is why his eye catches upon her like a fish upon a hook. He has never seen her here before. Her skin is the warm, rich brown of sun-baked mahogany, her smile curling a mouth as full as a promise. Glossy black curls tumble over a bare shoulder, eyes dark as the night sky and twice as mysterious. Tiny white flowers weave through her hair like stars and her dress is gossamer and spider’s silk in the dew.

She leans her elbow on the bar as he approaches, her chin resting on a hand adorned with rings of silver leaves and petals. He slides onto the stool opposite her like a shadow crossing the sun. There is a question in that sparking gaze that seems to catch his breath and pull it from his throat.

“Do you come here often?” he asks, letting the self-deprecating smirk that curls his lips tell her he knows how cliché a line it is. She laughs with the burbling joy of a spring-melt brook.

“No, nearly never. You?” she says, her voice warm honey. He props his elbow on the bar and hopes he looks less flustered than he feels.

“Not often,” he replies. He flicks a hand towards Nysus himself, the florid faced yet lissom man behind the bar. He is always here, the soul of the pub. A drink appears before him. The spirit is a rich and golden hue and yet seems to pale in comparison to the creature before him.

“What do I call you?” she asks, and her eyes glimmer with amusement; catching the firelight like sun on water. He knows she knows who he is, but he will play the game. He offers her his hand.

“You can call me H,” he says. Her fingers wrap around his like an embrace, his skin winter pale against her warm colour.

“Percy,” she says with that same mischievous smirk hiding in the corners of her mouth. Is she teasing him? She holds his hand for a moment too long before releasing it to reach for the fruity looking cocktail by her elbow.

“I didn’t think they made drinks like that here,” he comments, tilting his head at the delicately shaped glass. He sips his own drink, feels the elixir purl like firelight through his blood. She laughs again. Do people normally laugh so often?

“No?” she swirls the glittering pink liquid around the glass again. “Perhaps you just never asked nicely enough?” she teases. He inclines his head, conceding the point. He fumbles for the pattern of a conversation. When was the last time he had spoken to someone?

“What brings you here tonight, if you visit so rarely?” he scrapes together a sentence from fragments of long forgotten discussions. Percy swirls the drink around the glass and her eyes wander across the bar, tavern, pub. A burst of laughter erupts from the far end of the bar, pealing to the ceiling like the ringing of church bells. The old man in the corner peels his face away from the sticky wall long enough to cast them a dirty look.

“Looking for something, I suppose,” she says, turning her gaze back to him. She smiles again and the embers in his soul fan like a dying flame before a gentle breeze.

The next time H visits Nysus it has not been nearly as long between drinks. The echoing chambers he inhabits like a shadow and a thought seem emptier than the silence that stretches between heartbeats. It is raining tonight. The car tyres swish across the wet streets and the headlights smear bright light across puddled pavements. He wishes he could deny the foolish corner of his heart that expects her to still be sitting there when the door creaks open and the sticky sweet smell of fermenting grapes washes over him. The chair by the bar is as empty as ever. He hovers between breaths, but his pride is too sharp to let him leave, lest someone know he has come looking. He resumes his usual spot in the corner and orders a drink and hopes no one notices him. The window behind him creaks as frost spreads splintering fingers over its surface. The liquor tastes none so sweet across his tongue tonight.

Time stretches between minutes and hours as he waits without admitting he is waiting. Each time the door opens and the breath of mortal air rushes into the room he looks up with blatant hope. First it is the sea foam princess, hair like spun gold and a smirk like tousled sheets behind closed doors. Her hips swing as she heads for the bar and never so much as glances in his direction. Next it is his battle scarred nephew, slamming the door like a battlefield explosion, his skin smelling faintly of blood. He gets a nod this time. H is familiar with his nephew’s work. He sees so much of the aftermath.

The door creaks open again and this time when he looks up he meets her smile. Her hair is dewed with freshly fallen rain like diamonds caught in velvet. A breath of petrichor wafts from her dampened skirts.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Percy says, lowering herself into the chair opposite him, her legs folding with the grace of a young willow in a storm.

“Haven’t found what you were looking for?” he asks, and this time the words come to his lips easier than breathing. Her bud-adorned fingers trace a pattern across the worn tabletop, drawing dewed moisture after her delicate fingertip.

“Maybe. Haven’t decided yet,” she returns, quick as lightning on the horizon.

“Let me get you a drink,” he offers, and his cheeks feel warmer than usual. Has Nysus turned on the heating at last, after three millennia? Does the frost liming the window behind him melt under his embarrassment? She smiles her smile that is the bright light of a lazy afternoon.

“I won’t stop you,” she says, and he gets up before he can make any more foolish comments. Her eyes are a weight against the back of his neck and he fights the urge to roll his shoulders. To shrug off the heavy coat he wears like armour.

The bar is busy, as usual. He picks a spot where no flailing elbow is likely to catch him and waits quietly to catch the attention of Nysus, who is busy right now filling foaming tankards for the usual rowdy crowd. He fights against the magnetic pull to look back towards Percy, to see if she is watching him. Or has her attention been drawn by one of the others? Those golden skinned and bare chested and muscle-rippling, wide smiling and supple-tongued beings. They are here every night. The younger of the family, or those who wish they were still so. Normally they pay him little mind, just as they pay so little attention to his other brother slunk in the corner, his salty stare reproving them for their joy. Tonight, however, he is as unlucky as his name.

“Brother!” He is jostled as a muscular arm is slung around his shoulders. A waft of musky male sweat washes over him in a choking wave. His teeth clamp together against his annoyance. King’s beard is scratchy against his cheek, and he dislikes the proximity of his bare chest. Why can he not wear a shirt when he is in public?

“Hello,” he says, casting a pleading gaze across the bar, but Nysus’ florid face is turned away and there is no escape in that direction.

“What brings you here, little brother? I never see you anymore! Nysus! A drink for my brother! Now!” King bellows and H flinches as spit is liberally distributed into his ear canal. He manages something that might have been a smile, under other circumstances. There is a reason he comes here so rarely, and it is to avoid these sorts of interactions. Normally, he enjoys the endless echoing solitude of his home.

“Just a drink,” he replies and keeps his gaze from drifting back towards the corner through a strength of will he hadn’t realised he had. The drink mercifully arrives and he wonders how he can extricate himself without drawing his brother’s attention back towards the table near the window. King’s laughter brays into his ear loudly enough to make it ring.

“Since when do you enjoy anything, brother? Even a drink amongst family! Too busy skulking around in the darkness!” King bellows, his voice carrying to every corner of the bar without the slightest hint of effort. The others of his coterie are looking their way now, bright eyes and golden hair and glowing skin and rippling power even now, so long after the glory has faded. Their curiosity is tangible on his skin. H buries his nose in his glass, hoping as he usually does that soon his brother will bore of him if he gives no entertainment.

“Dreadfully sorry, you seem to have detained my companion,” a warm voice says from behind him. H lets his eyes close for a moment in gentle, familiar despair. Here it comes, he thinks with the weary exhaustion of the family introvert. King spins around, dragging H with him by the arm he has locked around his neck. Percy smiles, somehow already clutching another summery looking beverage, her smile playing on her mouth like dawn through the mist.

“Well well, hello beautiful,” King smirks, releasing H as if he has already forgotten he is there. “I don’t think we’ve met. What a cool glass of water you are, darling. I hope my brother isn’t boring you,” his voice is suddenly coated in honey, the brash shouting tempered into gold. He reaches for her hand, presumptuous and bold. She doesn’t give it to him and H sees the surprise in King’s expression when his usual braggadocio doesn’t immediately have her stripping off her gossamer gown and begging him to take her against the nearest wall.

“Not at all,” she replies. Her smile crinkles the corners of her eyes. “I far prefer intelligent conversations anyway.” Her hand finds H’s somehow, and it’s warm against his fingers as she draws him away from King. He lets himself be led, and he barely even hears his brothers’ fumbling protests as he loses himself in her smile.

Percy doesn’t tell her mother where she’s going, or what she’s doing, or who she’s meeting. She would never approve, and petulant rebellion lacks potency when admitted to. The secrecy thrills her almost as much as his dark eyes and the smile that hides in the corner of his mouth when he thinks no one but she is watching.

She wishes there was somewhere more pleasant to meet than the dim confines of the bar, crowded every night as it is with the squawking golden birds and grim faced old men with their haggard beards and drooping eyelids. She tries to avoid going to the bathrooms, where the three old women cluster around their knitting, the sound of scissors sharply metallic in the air. Tries not to go to the bar where she is like to find herself groped by sticky fingers and leering faces. But a secret conducted in the full light of day is so much easier to hide than one stuffed into shadowy corners. Who would expect her to be so bold as to conduct her affair under the noses of the entire family?

A warm breeze carries her through the door on a breath of flower petals and summer sun, and there he is, at their usual corner table. Shrouded in shadow and frost, an untouched glass sitting on the table before him like an offering to the afterlife. She smiles at him and her heart skips as his dark brows soften at the sight of her. A gesture to the bar – she knows Nysus will bring her something delightful - and she takes her seat, as comfortable now as the curves of her own bed.

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight,” he says, and as she meets his eyes in which she sees an eon’s worth of stars she feels the reproach in those words. She hooks her foot around the leg of her chair and scoots it closer to the table. There is frost on the window behind him, spidering across the window in fractal patterns of winter.

“I had trouble getting away,” she admits, curling a lock of hair around her finger. The firm slash of his mouth softens and she knows she is forgiven.

“Not too much trouble, I hope,” he says and brushes his black hair out of his eyes with the back of his pale hand, a gesture as familiar to her now as her own breath. She laughs.

“It’s worth it,” she tells him, and when she moves her leg this time, the side of her knee finds the outside of his thigh, the denim of his jeans rough as callouses against her soft skin. His eyes meet hers and she smiles again. Every night they do the dance of glance and sigh and smile and touch, and every night she becomes a little bolder and falls a little deeper into the darkness of his eyes.

His leg presses back gently against the pressure of her thigh[TN1] , and she can’t help but laugh at how silly they are, playing at flirting like teenagers in the sun instead of what they truly are. But when the faintest flush of pink colours his ashen cheeks and his dark lashes lie across the curve of his cheek like winter thorns she can’t make herself stop. She is watching him when he glances out of the window, his attention caught briefly by the mortal world. A woman in a raincoat the colour of the sun that isn’t shining, head bowed into the driving rain, a similarly clad dog trotting at her heels, red-gold coat bedraggled in the rain but looking pleased all the same. He watches until they leave his sight.

“Do you like dogs?” she asks, trying to hide her amusement. His pale cheeks flush like buds at the touch of spring, but he nods anyway, the pressure of his leg against her knee increasing for but a moment.

“Yes,” he admits as if it is a shameful secret.

“Do you have one?” she asks him, encouraging the fragments of conversation he offers like a miser parcelling out coins. The flash of his smile is as brilliant as the sun appearing from behind a cloud and just as startling. “More than one?” she hazards at his amusement.

“Something like that,” he says, and there is teasing in his eyes that she doesn’t think she has seen before. She laughs, as if she is in on the joke, if only to see the way his eyes brighten at the sound.

The bathrooms of Nysus’ are towards the back of the building[TN2] . She tries to avoid going when she can, but the call of nature is too strong after the several drinks H has bought her, and she finds herself groping through the dusty darkness. They cluster around a table in the shadows, whispering to each other like a death rattle in the cold. The clack and click of their shears and knitting needles are like spider feet walking down her spine, their voices creaking her name in fragile whispers and their papery laughter follows her when she leaves.

Her heart is burning with the heat of her annoyance and Percy is bristling when she arrives early and find their table empty. Arguing with her mother is as fruitless as an orchard in winter and yet as inevitable as spring. She itches and chafes for her freedom and the whispered plans and promises she has shared over this table have congealed into certainty around her heart. She needs to go. Her freedom beckons to her and she cannot deny it any longer.

The unfairness of her frustration that H is not here yet is far from lost on her, even as the window becomes foggy with her impatience. As she waits for him the burning heat of her anger fades but takes with it none of her steely resolve. She shoves errant curls out of her face, stray hair tickling her cheeks like spiderwebs on a forest path. Her mother’s words ring in her head like funeral bells and she knows whatever happens next will shift the paradigms of the world beyond the reckoning of mortals.

The door swings open and Percy smiles to herself as his shadowy figure enters, spots her already there, sitting in his chair. Enjoys the moment of his surprise, fleeting as a wind-chased cloud across the sun.

“Is everything alright?” he asks as he takes his seat opposite her, already sensing her discontent. Perhaps the waves of steam rising from her skin gives it away. She takes a moment to enjoy his careful way with his words, taking each one and placing it on the table before her, as if he expects a rebuke with every breath. It steadies her for what she is about to do.

“Yes, better than alright. H, listen to me,” she says, and leans across the table towards him, capturing the moment between their breaths. There is a wariness in his expression that she ignores as she plunges forward. “I want to do it. For real,” she breathes. They have spoken of it plenty of times. When the evenings are wearing late and the laughter is dying into embers. When the dregs of their drinks linger in the bottom of their glasses like silt in a seasonal pond. They’ve whispered in quiet tones of how it could be achieved. The ways in which the rules could be bent and broken. But it’s fear in his expression when she speaks it into reality.

“You don’t really want to, Percy,” he replies, saying her name like he treasures it in his mouth. The way no one else has ever said it. “It isn’t a place for someone like you.”

“Don’t tell me what I want,” she says, her voice cutting through his like a blade, “Don’t you start too. I know what I want. I want you. I want this. I want to do it,” she says and reaches across the table to capture those cool, pale hands between her own.

“Don’t you remember what I have told you? There are no flowers there, no warm summer days and fruit fresh from trees still hot from the sun. There are no seasons, no springtime. I fear you will wither like a blossom in the frost,” he says again, like he has said so many times before. As if the icy cool of his beauty doesn’t call for her just as much as summer pastures.

“Don’t patronise me, H. We’ll do what we discussed. 50/50.” His dark brows draw together like thunderheads on the horizon. His expression is serious but not grim, and she thinks she can see the glimmer of hope in the depths of those galaxy deep eyes. How lonely he must be, her dark prince. How he must long for someone to warm the fragile chambers of his domain.

“Are you sure? There’s no coming back if you change your mind,” he whispers. Her grip on his hands tightens and she feels his skin warm beneath her own, taking her heat and mellowing it with cool rationality. She has never been so sure of anything in her life.

“I’m sure. Tomorrow?” she asks. He regards her for the longest moment, from heart beat to heart beat to heart beat, and she waits, her breath trapped in her throat.

“Tomorrow.”

H is nervous. It has been millennia since he has had any reason to feel nervous, to experience uncertainty. He knows these moments will stretch and warp the fabric of the Fates. His choices in these next hours will change everything, irrevocably, irreparably. He is so happy. He is so afraid. He hasn’t felt so many things at once in so long. The vial in his pocket feels as heavy as a boulder.

She is already there when he arrives, and her drink sits before her, untouched. Another cocktail of some sort. This one looks like blood, a spot of colour in the shadowy interior of the bar. He tries not to see an omen in that shade. Her delicate hands are jammed between her knees if stopping their fidgeting can stop her fear. Her dress is woven of dreams and promises. Her eyes meet his as the door closes, and he sees the iron her and knows this will happen tonight. The next moments are now beyond his control.

H takes his seat and she smiles in that way that makes his heart stutter and his soul feel the tug of the Styx. But he knows the nuances of her smiles now, and he can see the nerves in this one.

“Are you sure?” he asks one more time, because he must, because he cannot stop himself. Because he could never live with the knowledge of her regrets. He fears nothing more than becoming a jailor, keeping a jewelled bird in a gilded cage. But she takes his hands again, her skin rich brown and warm against his own.

“I’m sure, H. I’m tired of waiting. Let’s get out of here,” she says, and she grins, and there is recklessness and summer storms in her eyes and he feels his feet being swept from beneath him. Sucked into the current of her conviction.

“Alright,” he says. He draws the vial from his pocket, and she watches with the intensity of the sun as he tips the ruby red seeds into his palm. Vivid as heart’s blood against his pale skin. His hand only shakes a little as they drop into her drink.

One

His heart is beating so loud he is surprised they cannot hear it at the bar.

Two

She swallows hard and licks her lips, as if she is desperately hungry.

Three

Someone laughs further back into the bar and he jumps, but he doesn’t falter.

Four

Her knee touches his and suddenly he wants this as badly as she does.

Five

He meets her eyes, hers warm as sun baked earth, his as cold as the dark between stars.

As the sixth pomegranate seed drops into the drink, Percy grins at him with that reckless abandon and his heart swells with something as gossamer thin and light as hope. She captures the glass in one hand and drains it in a simple swallow. He watches the seeds vanish. Feels the white hot warmth of the pact sink its teeth into him. She puts the glass back on the table and this time when she smiles there is no hint of uncertainty in her eyes. She slides a silver ring of delicate spring leaves off her finger and onto his.

He gets to his feet and he holds his hand out to her. She takes it as she stands, and the skirts that swish around her feet crackle with frost as she moves. She lifts her chin as he draws her towards him, his hand finding her waist, her fingers cupping his cheek. He pulls her near and he kisses her, and she laughs against his mouth. Her kisses are sweet strawberries on crackling summer grass. They are thunderstorms breaking through relentless heat with the splintering of lightning and the rising petrichor of hot earth and cool rain. They are the splashing of shade-dappled brooks in the afternoon. They are his.

“Hades,” she whispers into his cool lips. She feels his answering smile against her cheek.

“Persephone,” he breathes her name into her skin, cold as ice, hot as a brand. “Ready to go home?” he asks, stepping back. She links her fingers through his.

“Yes. Always,” she laughs, and somewhere in the deep and shadowy corner of the bar, the clacking needles of the Fates continue their endless weaving, and their laughter follows the King and Queen of Hell as they leave the bar at last.

Later, the nature of the newest union has circled back into the mouths of those who waste away their hours in revelry within the slouching walls of Nysus’ bar. The drama of the unconventional marriage, her mother’s rage, the impacts of their choices bounding like boulders down a mountainside is more excitement they’ve had in a thousand years.

“I just can’t believe it,” Zeus booms, his arm slung tonight around the neck of his wife, who looks no more impressed at this attention than she does when it’s around someone else’s. “I never pegged him for a kidnapper. It’s always the quiet ones. I should have known he was too interested in that poor girl!” he carries on like thunder overhead and the threat of coming rain.

“Living alone like that’s made him batty, that much is obvious, isn’t it?” Apollo shrugs, “No one should be in the dark all the time like that. Not to worry. She’ll fade away down there in no time, and he’ll realise his mistake,” he says as he swigs the last of his drink, his skin sparkling as if he has been dunked in glitter.

“It won’t matter if he does. It’s done now, isn’t it? She’s eaten of his food. She’s trapped. I can’t wait to see how it’s going next time I visit,” Hermes laughs breathily, the gush of gales in his voice. There’s a snort from down the bar and they turn towards the sound. Aphrodite smiles and shakes her head.

“You’re all idiots. Don’t you know anything?” she smirks, enjoying having their attention once more. She hasn’t enjoyed the gossip cycle leaving her as forgotten as a broken toy. “She wasn’t kidnapped.”

“Rubbish,” the king of the Gods complains. “He whisked her away, left her mother broken hearted, just like some horrible monster!” Aphrodite places her drink on the bar and slides off her stool, flicking her curtain of shimmering golden hair over her shoulder.

“Boys, boys. Listen, and I’ll tell you a secret.” She smiles back at them, leaning closer and drinking in their attention. “No one eats six pomegranate seeds because they’re hungry.”

#story #short story #hades #persephone #hades x persephone #writeblr #writing #writers of tumblr #am writing #write #writers #writer #hades and persephone #demeter

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orthodoxydaily · 10 months ago

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Saints&Reading: Saturday, January 13, 2024

Leavetaking (apodosis) of the Nativity of Christ

december 31_ january 13

MARTYR ZOTICUS OF CONSTANTINOPLE, FEEDER OF ORPHANS (4TH C.)

Icon from Uncut mountain suppy

He was born in Rome, and as a young man was chosen by the Emperor Constantine to assist in the foundation of his new capital at Byzantium. An outbreak of leprosy in the new City became so severe that the Emperor ordered that all lepers, whatever their rank, be driven from the city or drowned in the sea. Zoticus, moved by compassion for these people, went to the Emperor and asked him for a large amount of gold to buy gems and pearls to enhance the glory of the city, 'For, as Your Majesty knows, I am well-qualified in this field.' The Saint then used the gold to ransom all those being led into exile or to drowning, and to establish for them a camp on the hill of Olivet on the opposite shore of the Bosphorus. There he brought the sick and provided for their care. In 337 Constantius, an Arian heretic, took the throne upon the death of his father. Some of Zoticus' enemies at court, seeing an opportunity, denounced Zoticus to the new Emperor, saying that he not only held subversive views, but had misappropriated public money. When he learned of these charges, Zoticus presented himself to the Emperor, finely dressed, and offered to take Constantius to see the gems and pearls that he had bought on his behalf. When they reached the hill of Olivet, Constantius was astonished to see a company of lepers coming to greet him with lighted candles, honoring and praising him and their patron Zoticus. Then the holy Zoticus said to the Emperor, 'These are the precious stones and brilliant pearls that give luster to the crown of the heavenly Kingdom that you will inherit by their prayers. I bought them for the salvation of your soul.'Instead of being grateful, the heartless Emperor ordered that Zoticus be tied behind wild mules and dragged until dead. The mules ran down the hill, breaking the Saint's body upon the rocks an brush. Then, of their own accord, they returned to the top of the hill, still dragging the body, and, like Balaam's ass (Numbers ch. 22), spoke and proclaimed that the Martyr must be buried on that hill. The astonished and repentant Emperor ordered the Martyr buried with honor, and commanded that a hospital for lepers be built there, staffed by the best physicians and caretakers. Saint Zoticus is also called Orphanotrophos, 'Cherisher of Orphans,' because in later years a large orphanage was added to the leprosarium. The orphanage included a general hospital and a home for the aged. The Saint was honored throughout Byzantine history as the patron of the orphanage.

VENERABLE MELANIA THE YOUNGER, NUN OF ROME(439)

Saint Melania was born in Rome into a devout Christian family. Her parents, people of property and wealth, hoped that their daughter would marry and have children who would inherit their wealth.

At fourteen years of age Melania was married to the illustrious youth Apinianus. From the very beginning of their married life, Saint Melania asked her husband to live with her in chastity or else release her from the marriage. Apinianus answered, “I cannot agree to this right now. When we have two children to inherit the property, then we shall both renounce the world.”

Soon Melania gave birth to a daughter, whom the young parents dedicated to God. Continuing to live together in marriage, Melania secretly wore a hair shirt and spent her nights in prayer. The second child, a boy, was premature and had severe complications. They baptized him, and he departed to the Lord.

Seeing the suffering of his wife, Apinianus asked the Lord to preserve Saint Melania’s life, and he vowed to spend the rest of their life together in chastity. Recovering, Saint Melania stopped wearing her beautiful clothing and jewelry. Soon their daughter also died. The parents of Saint Melania did not support the young couple’s desire to devote themselves to God. It was only when Saint Melania’s father became deathly ill, that he asked their forgiveness and permitted them to follow their chosen path, asking them to pray for him.

The saints then left the city of Rome, and began a new life completely dedicated to the service of God. Apinianus at this time was twenty-four years of age, and Melania twenty. They began to visit the sick, to take in wanderers, and to help the indigent. They visited those who were exiled, and mine-convicts, and the destitute, there in debtor’s prison. After selling their estates in Italy and Spain, they generously helped monasteries, hospitals, widows and orphans in Mesopotamia, Syria, Egypt, Phoenicia, and Palestine.

Many churches and hospitals were built with their assistance. Churches of both West and East benefited from them. Leaving their native land, they set sail for Africa, and a strong storm arose while they were at sea. The sailors said that this was because of the wrath of God, but Saint Melania said that it was not God’s will that they should go directly to their destination.

The waves carried the ship to an island on which barbarians had landed. The besiegers demanded a ransom from the inhabitants, or else they threatened to lay waste the city. The saints supplied the necessary ransom, and thus saved the city and its people from destruction.

Resuming their voyage, they landed in Africa and helped all the needy there. With the blessing of the local bishops, they made offerings to churches and monasteries. During this time Saint Melania continued to humble her flesh by strict fasting, and she fortified her soul by constantly reading the Word of God, making copies of the sacred books and distributing them to those who lacked them. She sewed a hairshirt for herself, put it on, and continued to wear it.

The saints spent seven years in Carthage, and then decided to visit Jerusalem. At Alexandria, they were welcomed by the bishop, Saint Cyril, and they met in church with the holy Elder Nestorius, who was possessed of the gift of prophecy and healing. The Elder turned to them and told them to have courage and patience in expectation of the Glory of Heaven.

At Jerusalem, the saints distributed their remaining gold to the destitute and then spent their days in poverty and prayer. After a short visit to Egypt, where the saints visited many of the desert Fathers, Saint Melania secluded herself in a cell on the Mount of Olives. Only occasionally did she see Saint Apinianus.

Later, she founded a monastery, where eventually ninety virgins lived in obedience to Saint Melania. Out of humility, she would not consent to be abbess, and lived and prayed in solitude as before. In her instructions, Saint Melania urged the sisters to be vigilant and to pray, to disdain their own opinions and cultivate first of all love for God and for one another, to keep the holy Orthodox Faith, and to guard their purity of soul and of body.

In particular, she exhorted them to be obedient to the will of God. Calling to mind the words of the Apostle Paul, she counselled them to keep the fasts “not with wailing, nor from compulsion, but in virtuous disposition with love for God”. By her efforts an oratory and altar were built in the monastery, where they enshrined the relics of saints: the Prophet Zachariah, the holy Protomartyr Stephen, and the Forty Martyrs of Sebaste. About this time Saint Apinianus fell asleep in the Lord. Saint Melania buried his relics and there spent another four years in fasting and unceasing prayer.

Saint Melania wanted to build a men’s monastery on the Mount of the Ascension of the Lord. The Lord blessed her intent by sending a benefactor who provided the means for the monastery. Joyfully accepting it, Saint Melania finished the great work in a single year. In this monastery, saintly men began to lift up unceasing prayer in the church of the Ascension of Christ.

Having completed her tasks, the saint left Jerusalem for Constantinople, hoping to save the soul of her pagan uncle Volusianus who had traveled there from Rome. Along the way she prayed at the relics of Saint Laurence (August 10), at the place of his martyrdom, and received auspicious signs. Arriving in Constantinople, the saint found her uncle had fallen ill. Her demeanor and her inspired discourses had a profound influence on the sick man. He gave up pagan impiety and died a Christian.

During this time many inhabitants of the capital were deceived by the heretical teaching of Nestorius. Saint Melania accepted anyone who turned to her for proper explanation, converting many of them to Orthodoxy. Many miracles were worked through the prayers of the saint.

Returning to her own monastery, the saint sensed the approach of death, and told this to the priest and the sisters. They listened to her final instructions with deep sorrow and with tears. Having asked their prayers and commanding them to preserve themselves in purity, she received the Holy Mysteries with joy. Saint Melania peacefully gave up her soul to the Lord in the year 439.

Source: Orthodox Church in America_OCA

1 THESSALONIANS 5:14-23

14 Now we exhort you, brethren, warn those who are unruly, comfort the fainthearted, uphold the weak, be patient with all. 15 See that no one renders evil for evil to anyone, but always pursue what is good both for yourselves and for all. 16 Rejoice always, 17 pray without ceasing, 18 in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 19 Do not quench the Spirit. 20 Do not despise prophecies. 21 Test all things; hold fast what is good. 22 Abstain from every form of evil. 23 Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you completely; and may your whole spirit, soul, and body be preserved blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

LUKE 17:3-10

3 Take heed to yourselves. If your brother sins against you, rebuke him; and if he repents, forgive him. 4 And if he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times in a day returns to you, saying, 'I repent,' you shall forgive him. 5 And the apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith." 6 So the Lord said, "If you have faith as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, 'Be pulled up by the roots and be planted in the sea,' and it would obey you. 7 And which of you, having a servant plowing or tending sheep, will say to him when he has come in from the field, 'Come at once and sit down to eat'? 8 But will he not rather say to him, 'Prepare something for my supper, and gird yourself and serve me till I have eaten and drunk, and afterward you will eat and drink'? 9 Does he thank that servant because he did the things that were commanded him? I think not. 10 So likewise you, when you have done all those things which you are commanded, say, 'We are unprofitable servants. We have done what was our duty to do.'

#orthodoxy #orthodoxchristianity #easternorthodoxchurch #originofchristianity #spirituality #holyscriptures #gospel #bible #wisdom #saints

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3rd June >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Saturday, Eighth Week in Ordinary Time

Saints Charles Lwanga and his Companions, Martyrs

Saint Kevin, Abbot.

Saturday, Eighth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: White: A(1))

(Readings for the feria (Saturday))

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading Ecclesiasticus 51:17-27 Glory be to him who has given me wisdom.

I will thank you and praise you, and bless the name of the Lord. When I was still a youth, before I went travelling, in my prayers I asked outright for wisdom. Outside the sanctuary I would pray for her, and to the last I will continue to seek her. From her blossoming to the ripening of her grape my heart has taken its delight in her. My foot has pursued a straight path, I have been following her steps ever since my youth. By bowing my ear a little I have received her, and have found much instruction. Thanks to her I have advanced; the glory be to him who has given me wisdom! For I am determined to put her into practice, I have earnestly pursued what is good, I will not be put to shame. My soul has fought to possess her, I have been scrupulous in keeping the Law; I have stretched out my hands to heaven and bewailed my ignorance of her; I have directed my soul towards her, and in purity have found her.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 18(19):8-11

R/ The precepts of the Lord gladden the heart.

The law of the Lord is perfect, it revives the soul. The rule of the Lord is to be trusted, it gives wisdom to the simple.

R/ The precepts of the Lord gladden the heart.

The precepts of the Lord are right, they gladden the heart. The command of the Lord is clear, it gives light to the eyes.

R/ The precepts of the Lord gladden the heart.

The fear of the Lord is holy, abiding for ever. The decrees of the Lord are truth and all of them just.

R/ The precepts of the Lord gladden the heart.

They are more to be desired than gold, than the purest of gold and sweeter are they than honey, than honey from the comb.

R/ The precepts of the Lord gladden the heart.

Gospel Acclamation 1 Peter 1:25

Alleluia, alleluia! The word of the Lord remains for ever: What is this word? It is the Good News that has been brought to you. Alleluia!

Or: cf. Colossians 3:16a,17

Alleluia, alleluia! Let the message of Christ, in all its richness, find a home with you; through him give thanks to God the Father. Alleluia!

Gospel Mark 11:27-33 I will not tell you my authority for acting like this.

Jesus and his disciples came to Jerusalem, and as Jesus was walking in the Temple, the chief priests and the scribes and the elders came to him, and they said to him, ‘What authority have you for acting like this? Or who gave you authority to do these things?’ Jesus said to them, ‘I will ask you a question, only one; answer me and I will tell you my authority for acting like this. John’s baptism: did it come from heaven, or from man? Answer me that.’ And they argued it out this way among themselves: ‘If we say from heaven, he will say, “Then why did you refuse to believe him?” But dare we say from man?’ – they had the people to fear, for everyone held that John was a real prophet. So their reply to Jesus was, ‘We do not know.’ And Jesus said to them, ‘Nor will I tell you my authority for acting like this.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

-----------------------------

Saints Charles Lwanga and his Companions, Martyrs

(Liturgical Colour: Red: A(1))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading 2 Maccabees 7:1-2,9-14 'The King of the world will raise us up to live for ever'.

There were seven brothers who were arrested with their mother. The king tried to force them to taste pig’s flesh, which the Law forbids, by torturing them with whips and scourges. One of them, acting as spokesman for the others, said, ‘What are you trying to find out from us? We are prepared to die rather than break the laws of our ancestors.’

With his last breath the second brother exclaimed, ‘Inhuman fiend, you may discharge us from this present life, but the King of the world will raise us up, since it is for his laws that we die, to live again for ever.’

After him, they amused themselves with the third, who on being asked for his tongue promptly thrust it out and boldly held out his hands, with these honourable words, ‘It was heaven that gave me these limbs; for the sake of his laws I disdain them; from him I hope to receive them again.’ The king and his attendants were astounded at the young man’s courage and his utter indifference to suffering. When this one was dead they subjected the fourth to the same savage torture. When he neared his end he cried, ‘Ours is the better choice, to meet death at men’s hands, yet relying on God’s promise that we shall be raised up by him; whereas for you there can be no resurrection, no new life.’

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 123(124):2-5,7-8

R/ Our life, like a bird, has escaped from the snare of the fowler.

If the Lord had not been on our side when men rose up against us, then would they have swallowed us alive when their anger was kindled.

R/ Our life, like a bird, has escaped from the snare of the fowler.

Then would the waters have engulfed us, the torrent gone over us; over our head would have swept the raging waters.

R/ Our life, like a bird, has escaped from the snare of the fowler.

Indeed the snare has been broken and we have escaped. Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth.

R/ Our life, like a bird, has escaped from the snare of the fowler.

Gospel Acclamation Matthew 5:3

Alleluia, alleluia! How happy are the poor in spirit: theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Alleluia!

Gospel Matthew 5:1-12 How happy are the poor in spirit.

Seeing the crowds, Jesus went up the hill. There he sat down and was joined by his disciples. Then he began to speak. This is what he taught them:

‘How happy are the poor in spirit; theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Happy the gentle: they shall have the earth for their heritage. Happy those who mourn: they shall be comforted. Happy those who hunger and thirst for what is right: they shall be satisfied. Happy the merciful: they shall have mercy shown them. Happy the pure in heart: they shall see God. Happy the peacemakers: they shall be called sons of God. Happy those who are persecuted in the cause of right: theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

‘Happy are you when people abuse you and persecute you and speak all kinds of calumny against you on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven: this is how they persecuted the prophets before you.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

----------------------------

Saint Kevin, Abbot

(Liturgical Colour: White: A(1))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

Either:

First Reading Genesis 12:1-4 All the tribes of the earth shall bless themselves by you.

The Lord said to Abram, ‘Leave your country, your family and your father’s house, for the land I will show you. I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name so famous that it will be used as a blessing.

‘I will bless those who bless you: I will curse those who slight you. All the tribes of the earth shall bless themselves by you.’

So Abram went as the Lord told him.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

OR: --------

First reading Leviticus 19:1-2,17-18 You must love your neighbour as yourself

The Lord spoke to Moses; he said: ‘Speak to the whole community of the sons of Israel and say to them: ‘“Be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy. ‘“You must not bear hatred for your brother in your heart. You must openly tell him, your neighbour, of his offence; this way you will not take a sin upon yourself. You must not exact vengeance, nor must you bear a grudge against the children of your people. You must love your neighbour as yourself. I am the Lord.”’

OR: --------

First reading Deuteronomy 6:3-9 You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart

Moses said to the people: ‘Listen, Israel, keep and observe these commandments, which will make you prosper and give you great increase, as the Lord the God of your fathers has promised you, giving you a land where milk and honey flow. ‘Listen, Israel: the Lord our God is the one Lord. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength. Let these words I urge on you today be written on your heart. You shall repeat them to your children and say them over to them whether at rest in your house or walking abroad, at your lying down or at your rising; you shall fasten them on your hand as a sign and on your forehead as a circlet; you shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.’

OR: --------

First reading Deuteronomy 10:8-9 The Lord set apart the tribe of Levi to do him service

Moses said to the people: ‘The Lord set apart the tribe of Levi to carry the ark of the Lord’s covenant, to stand in the presence of the Lord, to do him service and in his name to pronounce blessing as they still do today. Levi therefore has no share or inheritance with his brothers: the Lord is his inheritance, as the Lord your God told him.’

OR: --------

First reading 1 Kings 19:4-9,11-15 The Lord was not in the wind, or the earthquake, or the fire

Elijah went into the wilderness, a day’s journey, and sitting under a furze bush wished he were dead. ‘O Lord,’ he said ‘I have had enough. Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.’ Then he lay down and went to sleep. But an angel touched him and said, ‘Get up and eat.’ He looked round, and there at his head was a scone baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank and then lay down again. But the angel of the Lord came back a second time and touched him and said, ‘Get up and eat, or the journey will be too long for you.’ So he got up and ate and drank, and strengthened by that food he walked for forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb, the mountain of God. There he went into the cave and spent the night in it. Then he was told, ‘Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord.’ Then the Lord himself went by. There came a mighty wind, so strong it tore the mountains and shattered the rocks before the Lord. But the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind came an earthquake. But the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire. But the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there came the sound of a gentle breeze. And when Elijah heard this, he covered his face with his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then a voice came to him, which said, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’ He replied, ‘I am filled with jealous zeal for the Lord of Hosts, because the sons of Israel have deserted you, broken down your altars and put your prophets to the sword. I am the only one left and they want to kill me.’ ‘Go,’ the Lord said, ‘go back by the same way to the wilderness of Damascus.’

OR: --------

First reading 1 Kings 19:16,19-21 Elisha leaves the plough to follow Elijah

The Lord said to Elijah, ‘Go, you are to anoint Elisha son of Shaphat, of Abel Meholah, as prophet to succeed you.’ Leaving there, Elijah came on Elisha son of Shaphat as he was ploughing behind twelve yoke of oxen, he himself being with the twelfth. Elijah passed near to him and threw his cloak over him. Elisha left his oxen and ran after Elijah. ‘Let me kiss my father and mother, then I will follow you’ he said. Elijah answered, ‘Go, go back; for have I done anything to you?’ Elisha turned away, took the pair of oxen and slaughtered them. He used the plough for cooking the oxen, then gave to his men, who ate. He then rose, and followed Elijah and became his servant.

OR: --------

First reading Tobit 8:4-8 A prayer on the wedding night

On their wedding night Tobias rose from the bed, and said to his wife Sarah, ‘Get up, my sister! You and I must pray and petition our Lord to win his grace and his protection.’ She stood up, and they began praying for protection, and this was how he began:

‘You are blessed, O God of our fathers; blessed, too, is your name for ever and ever. Let the heavens bless you and all things you have made for evermore. It was you who created Adam, you who created Eve his wife to be his help and support; and from these two the human race was born. It was you who said, “It is not good that the man should be alone; let us make him a helpmate like himself.” And so I do not take my sister for any lustful motive; I do it in singleness of heart. Be kind enough to have pity on her and on me and bring us to old age together.’

OR: --------

First reading Tobit 12:6-13 Bless God and utter his praise before all the living

Raphael took Tobit and his son Tobias aside and said, ‘Bless God, utter his praise before all the living for all the favours he has given you. Bless and extol his name. Proclaim before all men the deeds of God as they deserve, and never tire of giving him thanks. It is right to keep the secret of a king, yet right to reveal and publish the works of God. Thank him worthily. Do what is good, and no evil can befall you. ‘Prayer with fasting and alms with right conduct are better than riches with iniquity. Better to practise almsgiving than to hoard up gold. Almsgiving saves from death and purges every kind of sin. Those who give alms have their fill of days; those who commit sin and do evil, bring harm on themselves. ‘I am going to tell you the whole truth, hiding nothing from you. I have already told you that it is right to keep the secret of a king, yet right too to reveal in worthy fashion the works of God. So you must know that when you and Sarah were at prayer, it was I who offered your supplications before the glory of the Lord and who read them; so too when you were burying the dead. When you did not hesitate to get up and leave the table to go and bury a dead man, I was sent to test your faith, and at the same time God sent me to heal you and your daughter-in-law Sarah.’

OR: --------

First reading Judith 8:2-8 The widow Judith was devout and feared God

Judith’s husband Manasseh, of her own tribe and family, had died at the time of barley harvest. He was supervising the men as they bound up the sheaves in the field, when he caught sunstroke and had to take to his bed. He died in Bethulia, his home town, and was buried with his ancestors in the field that lies between Dothan and Balamon. As a widow, Judith stayed inside her home for three years and four months. She had had an upper room built for herself on the roof. She wore sackcloth round her waist and dressed in widow’s weeds. She fasted every day of her widowhood except for the sabbath eve, the sabbath itself, the eve of New Moon, the feast of New Moon and the festival days of the House of Israel. Now, she was very beautiful, charming to see. Her husband Manasseh had left her gold and silver, menservants and maidservants, cattle and lands; and she lived among all her possessions without anyone finding a word to say against her, so devoutly did she fear God.

OR: --------

First reading Esther 4:17 'I will not bow down to any but you, Lord'

Calling to mind all the wonderful works of the Lord, Mordecai offered this prayer:

‘Lord, Lord, King and Master of all things, everything is subject to your power, and there is no-one who can withstand you in your will to save Israel.

‘Yes, you have made heaven and earth, and all the marvels that are under heaven. You are the Lord of all, and there is none who can resist you, Lord.

‘You know all things: you know, Lord, you know, that no insolence, arrogance, vainglory prompted me to this, to this refusal to bow down before proud Haman. I would readily have kissed his feet for the safety of Israel.

‘But what I did, I did rather than place the glory of a man above the glory of God; and I will not bow down to any but to you, Lord: in so refusing I will not act in pride.

‘Hear my supplication, have mercy on your heritage, and turn our grief into rejoicing, that we may live to hymn your name, Lord. Do not suffer the mouths of those who praise you to perish.’

OR: --------

First reading Proverbs 31:10-13,19-20,30-31 A perfect wife - who can find her?

A perfect wife – who can find her? She is far beyond the price of pearls. Her husband’s heart has confidence in her, from her he will derive no little profit. Advantage and not hurt she brings him all the days of her life. She is always busy with wool and with flax, she does her work with eager hands. She sets her hands to the distaff, her fingers grasp the spindle. She holds out her hand to the poor, she opens her arms to the needy. Charm is deceitful, and beauty empty; the woman who is wise is the one to praise. Give her a share in what her hands have worked for, and let her works tell her praises at the city gates.

OR: --------

First reading Ecclesiasticus 2:7-13 You who fear the Lord, trust the Lord

You who fear the Lord, wait for his mercy; do not turn aside in case you fall. You who fear the Lord, trust him, and you will not be baulked of your reward. You who fear the Lord hope for good things, for everlasting happiness and mercy. Look at the generations of old and see: who ever trusted in the Lord and was put to shame? Or who ever feared him steadfastly and was left forsaken? Or who ever called out to him, and was ignored? For the Lord is compassionate and merciful, he forgives sins, and saves in days of distress.

OR: --------

First reading Ecclesiasticus 3:19-25 Behave humbly, and you will find favour with the Lord

My son, be gentle in carrying out your business, and you will be better loved than a lavish giver. The greater you are, the more you should behave humbly, and then you will find favour with the Lord; for great though the power of the Lord is, he accepts the homage of the humble. Do not try to understand things that are too difficult for you, or try to discover what is beyond your powers. Concentrate on what has been assigned you: you have no need to worry over mysteries. Do not meddle with matters that are beyond you: what you have been taught already exceeds the scope of the human mind. For many have been misled by their own presumption, and wrong-headed opinions have warped their ideas. For lack of eyes you want for light; if you are without knowledge, do not attempt to convince.

OR: --------

First reading Ecclesiasticus 26:1-4,13-16 A perfect wife is the joy of her husband

Happy the husband of a really good wife; the number of her days will be doubled. A perfect wife is the joy of her husband, he will live out his years in peace. A good wife is the best of portions, reserved for those who fear the Lord: rich or poor, they will be glad of heart, cheerful of face, whatever the season. The grace of a wife will charm her husband, her accomplishments will make him the stronger. A silent wife is a gift from the Lord, no price can be put on a well-trained character. A modest wife is a boon twice over, a chaste character cannot be weighed on scales. Like the sun rising over the mountains of the Lord is the beauty of a good wife in a well-kept house.

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 58:6-11 Then will your light shine like the dawn

Is not this the sort of fast that pleases me – it is the Lord who speaks – to break unjust fetters and undo the thongs of the yoke,

to let the oppressed go free, and break every yoke, to share your bread with the hungry, and shelter the homeless poor,

to clothe the man you see to be naked and not turn from your own kin? Then will your light shine like the dawn and your wound be quickly healed over.

Your integrity will go before you and the glory of the Lord behind you. Cry, and the Lord will answer; call, and he will say, ‘I am here.’

If you do away with the yoke, the clenched fist, the wicked word, if you give your bread to the hungry, and relief to the oppressed,

your light will rise in the darkness, and your shadows become like noon. The Lord will always guide you, giving you relief in desert places.

He will give strength to your bones and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water whose waters never run dry.

OR: --------

First reading Jeremiah 20:7-9 The word of the Lord has meant insult for me

You have seduced me, Lord, and I have let myself be seduced; you have overpowered me: you were the stronger. I am a daily laughing-stock, everybody’s butt. Each time I speak the word, I have to howl and proclaim: ‘Violence and ruin!’ The word of the Lord has meant for me insult, derision, all day long. I used to say, ‘I will not think about him, I will not speak in his name any more.’ Then there seemed to be a fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones. The effort to restrain it wearied me, I could not bear it.

OR: --------

First reading Micah 6:6-8 The Lord asks only this: to act justly, to love tenderly, to walk humbly

‘With what gift shall I come into the Lord’s presence and bow down before God on high? Shall I come with holocausts, with calves one year old? Will he be pleased with rams by the thousand, with libations of oil in torrents? Must I give my first-born for what I have done wrong, the fruit of my body for my own sin?’

– What is good has been explained to you, man; this is what the Lord asks of you: only this, to act justly, to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God.

OR: --------

First reading Zephaniah 2:3,3:12-13 In your midst I will leave a humble and lowly people

Seek the Lord, all you, the humble of the earth, who obey his commands. Seek integrity, seek humility: you may perhaps find shelter on the day of the anger of the Lord.

In your midst I will leave a humble and lowly people, and those who are left in Israel will seek refuge in the name of the Lord. They will do no wrong, will tell no lies; and the perjured tongue will no longer be found in their mouths. But they will be able to graze and rest with no one to disturb them.

EITHER: --------

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 1:1-4,6

His delight is the law of the Lord. or Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord. or The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

Happy indeed is the man who follows not the counsel of the wicked; nor lingers in the way of sinners nor sits in the company of scorners, but whose delight is the law of the Lord and who ponders his law day and night.

His delight is the law of the Lord. or Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord. or The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

He is like a tree that is planted beside the flowing waters, that yields its fruit in due season and whose leaves shall never fade; and all that he does shall prosper.

His delight is the law of the Lord. or Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord. or The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

Not so are the wicked, not so! For they like winnowed chaff shall be driven away by the wind: for the Lord guards the way of the just but the way of the wicked leads to doom.

His delight is the law of the Lord. or Happy the man who has placed his trust in the Lord. or The just will flourish like the palm-tree in the courts of our God.

OR: --------

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 14(15):2-5

The just will live in the presence of the Lord.

Lord, who shall dwell on your holy mountain? He who walks without fault; he who acts with justice and speaks the truth from his heart; he who does not slander with his tongue.

The just will live in the presence of the Lord.

He who does no wrong to his brother, who casts no slur on his neighbour, who holds the godless in disdain, but honours those who fear the Lord.

The just will live in the presence of the Lord.

He who keeps his pledge, come what may; who takes no interest on a loan and accepts no bribes against the innocent. Such a man will stand firm for ever.

The just will live in the presence of the Lord.

OR: --------

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 15(16):1-2,5,7-8,11

You are my inheritance, O Lord.

Preserve me, God, I take refuge in you. I say to the Lord: ‘You are my God.’ O Lord, it is you who are my portion and cup; it is you yourself who are my prize.

You are my inheritance, O Lord.

I will bless the Lord who gives me counsel, who even at night directs my heart. I keep the Lord ever in my sight: since he is at my right hand, I shall stand firm.

You are my inheritance, O Lord.

You will show me the path of life, the fullness of joy in your presence, at your right hand happiness for ever.

You are my inheritance, O Lord.

OR: --------

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 22(23)

The Lord is my shepherd: there is nothing I shall want.

The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want. Fresh and green are the pastures where he gives me repose. Near restful waters he leads me, to revive my drooping spirit.

The Lord is my shepherd: there is nothing I shall want.

He guides me along the right path; he is true to his name. If I should walk in the valley of darkness no evil would I fear. You are there with your crook and your staff; with these you give me comfort.

The Lord is my shepherd: there is nothing I shall want.

You have prepared a banquet for me in the sight of my foes. My head you have anointed with oil; my cup is overflowing.

The Lord is my shepherd: there is nothing I shall want.

Surely goodness and kindness shall follow me all the days of my life. In the Lord’s own house shall I dwell for ever and ever.

The Lord is my shepherd: there is nothing I shall want.

OR: --------

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 33(34):2-11

I will bless the Lord at all times. or Taste and see that the Lord is good.

I will bless the Lord at all times, his praise always on my lips; in the Lord my soul shall make its boast. The humble shall hear and be glad.

I will bless the Lord at all times. or Taste and see that the Lord is good.

Glorify the Lord with me. Together let us praise his name. I sought the Lord and he answered me; from all my terrors he set me free.

I will bless the Lord at all times. or Taste and see that the Lord is good.

Look towards him and be radiant; let your faces not be abashed. This poor man called, the Lord heard him and rescued him from all his distress.

I will bless the Lord at all times. or Taste and see that the Lord is good.

The angel of the Lord is encamped around those who revere him, to rescue them. Taste and see that the Lord is good. He is happy who seeks refuge in him.

I will bless the Lord at all times. or Taste and see that the Lord is good.

Revere the Lord, you his saints. They lack nothing, those who revere him. Strong lions suffer want and go hungry but those who seek the Lord lack no blessing.

I will bless the Lord at all times. or Taste and see that the Lord is good.

OR: --------

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 102(103):1-4,8-9,13-14,17-18