The Ballad of Thomas Ox
A respite on the journey with St. Joan of Arc and St. Thérèse
(Royalty free image from Pexels.com. Quang-Nguyen-Vinh photographer.)
I use waterfall imagery in my writing to describe the grace of God working through the communion of saints. We receive grace from God through the saints as a lake or river receives water from the falls above it. St. Thomas Aquinas inspired my thinking through this complementary metaphor of the brightness of the sun.
It is God’s will that inferior beings should be helped by all those that are above them, wherefore we ought to pray not only to the higher but also to the lower saints; else we should have to implore the mercy of God alone. For the Divine Order is such that lower beings receive an overflow of the excellence of the higher, even as air receives the brightness of the sun.” (Summa Theologica Question 83, Article 11, “Whether we ought to pray to God alone?”)
The recent Catechism of the Catholic Church explains how this metaphor translates in our day-to-day lives.
“The witnesses who have preceded us into the kingdom, (Heb 12:1) especially those whom the Church recognizes as saints, share in the living tradition of prayer by the example of their lives, the transmission of their writings, and their prayer today. They contemplate God, praise him, and constantly care for those whom they have left on earth. When they entered into the joy of their Master, they were “put in charge of many things.” (Mt 25:21) Their intercession is their most exalted service to God’s plan. We can and should ask them to intercede for us and for the whole world.” (CCC paragraph 2683)
The older catechism of the council of Trent confirms the orthodoxy of our active, lively friendship with the saints.
“We must also have recourse to the intercession of the Saints who are in glory. That the Saints are to be prayed to is a truth so firmly established in the the Church of God, that no pious person can experience a shadow of doubt on the subject.” (Part IV: The Lord’s Prayer; section “To whom we should pray”; sub-section “To the Saints”)
In her book Knowledge and Faith, Edith Stein (St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross), furthered this inspiration. In the chapter, The Order of Being and Knowledge in the Areopagite, she explains the upward flow of grace drawing us to heaven, which then flows forth again, so as to repeatedly draw back up.
A thread runs through all of Dionysius's writings that have come down to us. In the prologue of his commentary 8 on Dionysius, Albert the Great summed it up in a quotation from Ecclesiastes: Ad locum unde {69} exeunt flumina revertuntur ut iterum fluant [the streams return to the place whence they have issued to again flow forth].
~ Stein, Edith. Knowledge and Faith (The Collected Works of Edith Stein, vol. 8) . ICS Publications. Kindle Edition.
With this in mind, I wrote the following poem many years ago. It tells of a short respite and meeting with Thomas Aquinas (“the Ox”) on my journey toward the Kingdom on the Trail of the Dogmatic Creed (“worn by saintly steps of old!”) with St. Joan of Arc and St. Thérèse of Lisieux.
The Ballad of Thomas Ox
A tiny village in Christendom
Is where this tale tells on
Down dusty trails into the town
I found a man anon
So worn from travel, three of us
Pursuing rest and cheer
Thérèse with Joan of Arc did fuss
As I ventured off to hear
This man stood in the square and sang
His name was Thomas Ox
I left my saintly sisters praying
To tell Sir Ox my thoughts
“Good cheer my friend!" I bowed in need
“We travel by your way
On this the trail, Dogmatic Creed
We march in hope today!”
“You see, our young Thérèse found me
Alone and lost in fear
From darkest woods I soon was free
To dance in sunlight clear”
“And as we waltzed toward the sun
In prayer with silent hearts
How pleased was I to come upon
Her friend, dear Joan of Arc”
“Sent from Our Lady's throne so sworn
These two to lead me home
They've said this trail through here is worn
By saintly steps of old!”
“Indeed,” spoke Ox, he widely grinned
“What troubles you then lad?”
I glanced toward my saintly friends
Who make my heart so glad
“I heard you sing, Sir Thomas Ox
That God loves more or less
Your words were sweet, they were not lost
I felt their soft caress”
“I see the beauty of my saints
I know I’m not the same
I sing their praise because God paints
More beautifully their name”
“But on some days, I do complain
I'll never make their lot
That makes me sad and filled with pain
What say you, Thomas Ox?”
“Now son,” said he, “do dry your eyes
I also shared this hymn
While God makes souls of different size
He fills each one to brim”
“Our Lord and Lady love you dear
To pour from larger casks
Like those of your two sisters there
Into your heart that lacks”
“God loves the same in that each soul
He fills up to its crest
Some overflow to make His goal
Of filling all the rest”
Rejoice! My heart then felt aflame
This was the secret key
To love that I am less than them
Prepares me to receive
Right then I saw that love's not far
When reaching high from low
And loving those among the stars
God's raised from here below
God favors those in whom he makes
Abundance for the rest
His favors to my saintly mates
For me is bounty blessed
I ran toward my sisters dear
Was time to move in haste
My heart now filled with joyful tears
From God’s cascading grace
We journeyed on, toward the sun
Thérèse and Joan with smiles
“Dear man, come on! “ they pled in fun
Our Kingdom’s many miles!”
I think God loves them very much
I’m filled when I do too
And that is what I learned with such
Engaging, prayerful muse
I strolled behind and made them leap
By kicking a small rock
They laughed and kicked it back to me
As I waved to Thomas Ox