St. Patrick's Breastplate and other Saturday morning thoughts

Up since three this morning, thanks to last night's nebulizer treatment. At six, the hour of Prime (or Matins), formally began the day by praying St. Patrick's Breastplate.

I bind unto myself today
The strong Name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever.
By power of faith, Christ's incarnation;
His baptism in the Jordan river;
His death on Cross for my salvation;
His bursting from the spicèd tomb;
His riding up the heavenly way;
His coming at the day of doom;*
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself the power
Of the great love of the cherubim;
The sweet 'well done' in judgment hour,
The service of the seraphim,
Confessors' faith, Apostles' word,
The Patriarchs' prayers, the Prophets' scrolls,
All good deeds done unto the Lord,
And purity of virgin souls.

I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the starlit heaven,
The glorious sun's life-giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind's tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea,
Around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide, His shield to ward,
The word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptation force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours,
Against their fierce hostility,
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan's spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart's idolatry,
Against the wizard's evil craft,
Against the death wound and the burning,
The choking wave and the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till Thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me.
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the Name,
The strong Name of the Trinity;
By invocation of the same.
The Three in One, and One in Three,
Of Whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word:
Praise to the Lord of my salvation,
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.

At about six-thirty, I noticed a strange, clear, golden sort of light outdoors. Outside, looking west, I was graced with a view we haven't seen for a while, since it requires rain--a bright rainbow hanging between a thundercloud and, presumably, the ground. And to the right of it, a very faint second rainbow, the colors of the prism reversed. And, just for a few minutes, everything in view was so clean and crisp from the rain, the colors enhanced as if someone had turned up the setting. A flock of birds flew across the sky in front of the rainbow and the bank of dark clouds edged in pink and gold. It looked for all the world like one of those cheesy Thomas Kinkade paintings. 

Not my photo, but evocative of the mood.

I do know why we see rainbows (I have, after all, taken meteorology this summer). A rainbow is merely an optical phenomena, the light behind us refracting on the rain in front of us. Light moves from one transparent medium to another transparent medium that has a different density. Still, even if one knows the science, it is a miracle, created by a mind far greater than ours will ever be, a being that I am dimly understanding as not wholly Other, but moving through time with us the created. I bind unto myself today
The virtues of the starlit heaven,
The glorious sun's life-giving ray . . . 

A Company of Women

This was a wonderful day of Jane Austen friends and . . . I'll say friendship. Each time I'm with these ladies I am enlightened, brightened, humbled by their collective wisdom and education, and energized. These women (no men so far, but they are welcome if they'd only care to show up) are accomplished in ways that have little to do with the prescribed female attributes of Jane's time. Even so, they are all so very genteel that I delight in their company if for no other reason than that. Is genteel the right word? Polite? Well-bred? It could be that it is difficult to find the right word for a twenty-first century woman with both sense and sensibility and decent manners. So many young women as well as young men have a distressing courseness about them. Surely there is a happy medium between the woman molded to her man's specifications that Rousseau advocated and Lady Gaga (who is a lady in pseudonym only).