The “Little People”

For the “Little People,” Before the Blessed Sacrament

Tiny round God,
weak and small, You could fit in my hand, yet
all the span of the universe cannot contain You
all the powers of the cosmos cannot resist You.
You have made Yourself like those
who are close to Your Heart.

I carry them here with me today:
the “little people
invisible to the mighty but not to the Almighty.
The world reckons them a zero:
without wealth, without power,
without name, without face,
without arms, without voice.

But You too, Lord, are a Zero,
a white, wheaten Cipher,
a Figure on whom
they have failed to reckon.

When You foes seek to multiply
You will invade their equation
and bring them to naught:
You will nullify their pride,
annihilate their power,
annul their schemes
of domination.
But those of lowly degree
You will stand beside
to magnify.

Tiny round God,
blessed are You
who gather the poor
into the ring of Your riches,
the empty
into the cup of Your fullness,
the weak
into the crown of Your might,
the sorrowing
into the circle of Your dance.
Blessed are You,
encompassing Your people
without beginning, without end,
in Your love.

~Paul Thigpen

On Corpus Christi

On Corpus Christi, Before the Blessed Sacrament

You languish in the darkness like
a criminal imprisoned
a sick man quarantined
an eccentric, babbling uncle, hid away.

Are they so afraid of You?
Are we so ashamed of You?
This is Your pageant day!

Where are Your holy calvacades
Your solemn ranks of soldiers
with their Captain at their head?
Your festal, fair processions
winding through the curious crowds
who marvel at the sacred spectacle?

In the quiet I hear echoes
from the stones of ancient streets
crying out with praise to shame us
for our silence.
In the blackness I see faces
of a multitude of children
looking down the ages, wondering
to see so plain a feast.

For the glory due Your name,
how long, O Lord,
must You wait?

~Paul Thigpen

Dying words

Give me your grace, good Lord . . . to think my greatest enemies my best friends.

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I am currently reading a book by Paul Thigpen called Last Words, Final Thoughts of Catholic Saints & Sinners.  I would like to consider today a statement made by St. Thomas More while he was awaiting his execution.  He was reflecting on the life of Joseph of the Old Testament and Joseph’s response to his brothers who had sold him into slavery.  As we know, Joseph saw all that had happened to him in the Providence of God.  More wrote this just before he died:

Joseph greets his brothers
Joseph greets his brothers

Give me your grace, good Lord . . . to think my greatest enemies my best friends; for the brothers of Joseph could never have done so much good with their love and favor as they did him with their malice and hatred.