Winterr's words

O death where is your victory? O death where is your sting?

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law;

but thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

May angels lead you into Paradise; may the martyrs receive you at your coming and lead you to the holy city of Jerusalem. May a choir of angels receive you, along with Lazarus, who once was poor, may you have eternal rest.

-In paradisum deducant te Angeli; in tuo adventu suscipiant te martyres, et perducant te in civitatem sanctam Ierusalem. Chorus angelorum te suscipiat, et cum Lazaro quondam paupere æternam habeas requiem.


Mary, Mother of God, pray for them
Saint Michael, pray for them
Saint John the Baptist, pray for them
Saint Joseph, pray for them
Saint Peter, pray for them
Saint Paul, pray for them
Saint Andrew, pray for them
Saint Stephen, pray for them
Saint Ann, pray for them
Saint Teresa, pray for them
Saint Catherine, pray for them Saint
Frances Cabrini, pray for them
Saint Elizabeth Seton, pray for them
All holy men and women, pray for them

Christ, pardon all their faults

Christ, remember the good they have done

Christ, receive them into eternal life: Lord, hear our prayer

Christ, comfort all those who mourn: Lord, hear our prayer

Almighty God and Father, by the mystery of the cross, you have made us strong; by the sacrament of the resurrection you have sealed us as your own. Look kindly upon your servants, now freed from the bonds of mortality, and count them among your saints in heaven.

Sweet is the consolation of the dying man, who, conscious of imperfection, believes that there are others to make intercession for him, when his own time for merit has expired; soothing to the afflicted survivors the thought that they possess powerful means of relieving their friend. In the first moments of grief, this sentiment will often overpower religious prejudice, cast down the unbeliever on his knees beside the remains of his friend and snatch from him an unconscious prayer for rest; it is an impulse of nature which for the moment, aided by the analogies of revealed truth, seizes at once upon this consoling belief. But it is only a flitting and melancholy light, while the Catholic feeling, cheering though with solemn dimness, resembles the unfailing lamp, which the piety of the ancients is said to have hung before the sepulchres of their dead.
~Cardinal Wiseman

Labels: All Souls Day