Christian Witness, Poetry, Saints and Martyrs,

October 19 – The Magnificat of the BVM as recorded by St. Luke

“My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has regarded the low estate of his handmaiden.
For behold, henceforth all generations will call me blessed;
for he who is mighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
And his mercy is on those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm,
he has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts,
he has put down the mighty from their thrones,
and exalted those of low degree;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent empty away.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
as he spoke to our fathers,
to Abraham and to his posterity for ever.”

Translation according to the Revised standard Version of the Holy Bible

"Wielbi dusza moja Pana,
i raduje się duch mój w Bogu, moim Zbawcy.
Bo wejrzał na uniżenie Służebnicy swojej.
Oto bowiem błogosławić mnie będą odtąd wszystkie pokolenia,
gdyż wielkie rzeczy uczynił mi Wszechmocny.
Święte jest Jego imię –
a swoje miłosierdzie na pokolenia i pokolenia [zachowuje] dla tych, co się Go boją.
On przejawia moc ramienia swego,
rozprasza [ludzi] pyszniących się zamysłami serc swoich.
Strąca władców z tronu, a wywyższa pokornych.
Głodnych nasyca dobrami, a bogatych z niczym odprawia.
Ujął się za sługą swoim, Izraelem,
pomny na miłosierdzie swoje –
jak przyobiecał naszym ojcom –
na rzecz Abrahama i jego potomstwa na wieki».

Poetry

October 18 – Heritage by فukasz Mańkowski

My gaze is upon centuries past,
To bygone works from primeval times,
Brave deeds and many tears.
My spirit permeates another world,
Under the skies of my ancestor’s days,
Their youth passing away like the wind.
That heritage swims in my dreams,
Those times drowned in tears.
Where is the legacy of those years?

Translated by Dcn. Jim

Mój wzrok spogląda w przeszły wiek,
W pradawny czas minionych dzieł,
Gdzie dzielne czyny i wiele łez.
Mój duch przenika w inny świat,
Pod niebo przodków dawnych lat,
Gdy wiatr młodością wiał.
W tamte dziedzictwo płynę w snach,
Za tamte czasy tonę w łzach.
Gdzie jest dziedzictwo z tamtych lat?

PNCC,

Turkey Dinner at the Cathedral – Scranton, PA

From the Times-Tribune: Turkey dinner

The Adoration of the Most Blessed Sacrament Society of St. Stanislaus Polish National Catholic Cathedral will hold a pre-holiday homestyle turkey dinner on Sunday, October 25th at 12:30 p.m. in the Parish Youth Center, 530 E. Elm St., Scranton; takeouts, 10:30 a.m. to noon; $10/adult, $5/children under 12. For more information please call Gloria Makowski at 570-498-3922.

Poetry

October 17 – Teach me by Rev. Rafał Wojciechowski

Thank you for teaching me
About everything in heaven
About myself, my sisters and brothers
About dogs, and the ant
Thank you for teaching me
About those who are poor,
Hungry and sick
About those who weep
The joy I should bring them
Thank you for teaching me
About the love that flows from the cross
About everything that is and is not
What will be and will soon become
About Thy holy will Amen

Translated by Dcn Jim

Job Thanking God by Bartolo di Fredi

Dziękować mnie naucz
Za wszystko, co w niebie
Za siebie, za siostrę i brata
Za psa i za mrówkę
Dziękować mnie naucz
Za tych, którzy biedni,
Zgłodniali i chorzy
Za tych co płaczą
Bym radość im zaniósł
Dziękować mnie naucz
Za miłość z krzyża płynącą
Za wszystko, co jest i co nie jest
Co będzie i stanie się wkrótce
Za wolę Twą świętą Amen

LifeStream

Daily Digest for October 17th

twitter (feed #4)
New blog post: Daily Digest for October 16th http://bit.ly/iH7rk [deacon_jim]
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New blog post: Waymart, PA http://bit.ly/T7wyd [deacon_jim]
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New blog post: Around the PNCC http://bit.ly/U10eW [deacon_jim]
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New blog post: Personal note of thanks http://bit.ly/248KNu [deacon_jim]
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New blog post: October 13 – Lament IX by Jan Kochanowski http://bit.ly/MW2WQ [deacon_jim]
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New blog post: October 14 – Lament VI by Jan Kochanowski http://bit.ly/T8CGr [deacon_jim]
Christian Witness, PNCC,

A personal note of thanks

Last Sunday, the Solemnity of the Christian Family, marked one year since I began my active ministry at Holy Name of Jesus parish in Schenectady, NY.

Of course thanks are in order, but in a way I am uncomfortable making this list because everyone should come first. Needless to say I will start with the Lord who leads me in my ministry of service, at Holy Name, in the Mohawk Valley Seniorate, in the Central Diocese, and the PNCC as a whole. I am so thankful to Fr. Stan Bilinski for taking the time (and having the great patience necessary) to teach me the ropes. A huge shout out and special note of thanks to all the parishioners at Holy Name; they have been very charitable, accepting, and have shown great Christian love in welcoming my family and me. And, finally, my family who support me in my ministry and whose patience I tax with running to and fro to minister. I realize their sacrifice and am so thankful for their charity.

Here’s a picture of me assisting at Holy Mass on the occasion of the YMSofR Track and Field meet in Scranton. Holy Mass was celebrated at the Grotto of Christ the Benign. Prime Bishop Nemkovich is celebrating, I am the Deacon of the Mass, and Fr. Jason Soltysiak is standing in as Sub-Deacon.

Holy Mass at the Grotto of Christ the Benign

Please pray for me.

Poetry

October 16 – The Romantic by Adam Mickiewicz

Methinks, I see… Where?
– In my mind’s eyes.
— Shakespeare

“Silly girl, listen!”
But she doesn’t listen
While the village roofs glisten,
Bright in the sun.
“Silly girl, what do you do there,
As if there were someone to view there,
A face to gaze on and greet there,
A live form warmly to meet there,
When there is no one, none, do you hear?”
But she doesn’t hear.

Like a dead stone
She stands there alone,
Staring ahead of her, peering around
For something that has to be found
Till, suddenly spying it,
She touches it, clutches it,
Laughing and crying.

Is it you, my Johnny, my true love, my dear?
I knew you would never forget me,
Even in death! Come with me, let me
Show you the way now!
Hold your breath, though,
And tiptoe lest stepmother hear!

What can she hear? They have made him
A grave, two years ago laid him
Away with the dead.
Save me, Mother of God! I’m afraid.
But why? Why should I flee you now?
What do I dread?
Not Johnny! My Johnny won’t hurt me.
It is my Johnny! I see you now,
Your eyes, your white shirt.

But it’s pale as linen you are,
Cold as winter you are!
Let my lips take the cold from you,
Kiss the chill of the mould from you.

Dearest love, let me die with you,
In the deep earth lie with you,
For this world is dark and dreary,
I am lonely and weary!

Alone among the unkind ones
Who mock at my vision,
My tears their derision,
Seeing nothing, the blind ones!

Dear God! A cock is crowing,
Whitely glimmers the dawn.
Johnny! Where are you going?
Don’t leave me! I am forlorn!

So, caressing, talking aloud to her
Lover, she stumbles and falls,
And her cry of anguish calls
A pitying crowd to her.

“Cross yourselves! It is, surely,
Her Johnny come back from the grave:
While he lived, he loved her entirely.
May God his soul now save!”

Hearing what they are saying,
I, too, start praying.

“The girl is out of her senses!”
Shouts a man with a learned air,
“My eye and my lenses
Know there’s nothing there.

Ghosts are a myth
Of ale-wife and blacksmith.
Clodhoppers! This is treason
Against King Reason!”

“Yet the girl loves,” I reply diffidently,
“And the people believe reverently:
Faith and love are more discerning
Than lenses or learning.

You know the dead truths, not the living,
The world of things, not the world of loving.
Where does any miracle start?
Cold eye, look in your heart!”

Translated by W.H. Auden

06_romantycznosc_prj

Zdaje mi się, że widzę… gdzie?
Przed oczyma duszy mojej.
— Shakespear

Słuchaj, dzieweczko!
– Ona nie słucha –
To dzień biały! to miasteczko!
Przy tobie nie ma żywego ducha.
Co tam wkoło siebie chwytasz?
Kogo wołasz, z kim się witasz?
– Ona nie słucha. –

To jak martwa opoka
Nie zwróci w stronę oka,
To strzela wkoło oczyma,
To się łzami zaleje;
Coś niby chwyta, coś niby trzyma;
Rozpłacze się i zaśmieje.

“Tyżeś to w nocy? to ty, Jasieńku!
Ach! i po śmierci kocha!
Tutaj, tutaj, pomaleńku,
Czasem usłyszy macocha!

Niech sobie słyszy, już nie ma ciebie!
Już po twoim pogrzebie!
Ty już umarłeś? Ach! ja się boję!
Czego się boję mego Jasieńka?
Ach, to on! lica twoje, oczki twoje!
Twoja biała sukienka!

I sam ty biały jak chusta,
Zimny, jakie zimne dłonie!
Tutaj połóż, tu na łonie,
Przyciśnij mnie, do ust usta!

Ach, jak tam zimno musi być w grobie!
Umarłeś! tak, dwa lata!
Weź mię, ja umrę przy tobie,
Nie lubię świata.

ٹle mnie w złych ludzi tłumie,
Płaczę, a oni szydzą;
Mówię, nikt nie rozumie;
Widzę, oni nie widzą!

Śród dnia przyjdź kiedy… To może we śnie?
Nie, nie… trzymam ciebie w ręku.
Gdzie znikasz, gdzie, mój Jasieńku!
Jeszcze wcześnie, jeszcze wcześnie!

Mój Boże! kur się odzywa,
Zorza błyska w okienku.
Gdzie znikłeś? ach! stój, Jasieńku!
Ja nieszczęśliwa”.

Tak się dziewczyna z kochankiem pieści,
Bieży za nim, krzyczy, pada;
Na ten upadek, na głos boleści
Skupia się ludzi gromada.

“Mówcie pacierze! – krzyczy prostota –
Tu jego dusza być musi.
Jasio być musi przy swej Karusi,
On ją kochał za żywota!”

I ja to słyszę, i ja tak wierzę,
Płaczę i mówię pacierze.
“Słuchaj, dzieweczko!” – krzyknie śród zgiełku
Starzec, i na lud zawoła:
“Ufajcie memu oku i szkiełku,
Nic tu nie widzę dokoła.

Duchy karczemnej tworem gawiedzi,
W głupstwa wywarzone kuźni.
Dziewczyna duby smalone bredzi,
A gmin rozumowi bluźni”.

“Dziewczyna czuje, – odpowiadam skromnie –
A gawiedź wierzy głęboko;
Czucie i wiara silniej mówi do mnie
Niż mędrca szkiełko i oko.

Martwe znasz prawdy, nieznane dla ludu,
Widzisz świat w proszku, w każdej gwiazd iskierce.
Nie znasz prawd żywych, nie obaczysz cudu!
Miej serce i patrzaj w serce!”

PNCC,

Around the PNCC

Capturing history:

Holy Spirit Parish in Little Falls, NY is reaching out to parishioners past and present for photos of events in the Parish’s history. If you have any photos you can contact Fr. Rafal at 315-823-0793. He will scan them in and promptly return them to you.

Confirmation at the hands of Bishop Leon Grochowski in 1962
Confirmation at the hands of Bishop Leon Grochowski in 1962
Father Francis Szcesny, 1954 Holy Mass at the Parish Cemetery
Father Francis Szcesny, 1954 Holy Mass at the Parish Cemetery
First Holy Communion, Father Brzostowski, ca. 1940
First Holy Communion, Father Brzostowski, ca. 1940

Celebrating their Patronal Feast Day:

St. Francis Parish in East Meadow, NY celebrated its Patronal Feast with a weekend full of events and capped by a Fall Dinner.

Seated - Fr. Kolek, Fr. Senior Pietruszka, and standing - Fr. Koterba with dinner guests.
Seated - Fr. Kolek, Fr. Senior Pietruszka, and standing - Fr. Koterba with dinner guests.