|St. Mary Magdalene holding, as usual, a Paschal egg|
Tomorrow is the feast of St. Mary Magdalene, the penitent. It is worth reading the antiphons from Vespers and Scriptural readings from Mattins, which I have provided below. They display a rich, vibrant, sensual relationship the penitent sinner should have with the Lord:
- While the King sitteth at his table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof.
- We will run after thee, in the savour of thy good ointments. The virgins love them exceedingly.
- Lo the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. Rise up, my love, and come away.
- Come, O My chosen one, and I will establish My throne in thee, alleluia.
- She is beautiful among the daughters of Jerusalem.
Mattins (starting at Canticle of Canticles ch. 3):
- In my bed by night I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, and found him not. I will rise, and will go about the city: in the streets and the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, and I found him not. The watchmen who keep the city, found me: Have you seen him, whom my soul loveth? When I had a little passed by them, I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him: and I will not let him go, till I bring him into my mother's house, and into the chamber of her that bore me.
- (Starting at ch. 8): Who shall give thee to me for my brother, sucking the breasts of my mother, that I may find thee without, and kiss thee, and now no man may despise me? I will take hold of thee, and bring thee Into my mother's house: there thou shalt teach me, and I will give thee a cup of spiced wine and new wine of my pomegranates. His left hand under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me. I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you stir not up, nor awake my love till she please.
- Who is this that cometh up from the desert, flowing with delights, leaning upon her beloved? Under the apple tree I raised thee up: there thy mother was corrupted, there she was defloured that bore thee. Put me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm, for love is strong as death, jealousy as hard as hell, the lamps thereof are fire and flames. Many waters cannot quench charity, neither can the floods drown it: if a man should give all the substance of his house for love, he shall despise it as nothing.
Santa Maria Magdalena, ora pro nobis!