One little joy I love is celebrating the feast day of St Aloysius Gonzaga (Italian: Luigi Gonzaga; 9 March 1568 – 21 June 1591) A day when I try to make the effort to visit the Church. Today in our local Cathedral, they had a second class relic for veneration on his feast day even though it was a Sunday.
In looking over a few biographies of him, it seems that his virginity was much celebrated and made a promise in his youth age 9 to be celibate. He also received a vision of the Angel Gabriel regarding his own death. Visions of him were also received after his own death, where he was appearing other people.
As is typical in the Catholic Church, after death his relics appeared in various places. A leg was in a Jesuit formation centre in Guildford in the UK and his skull rests in a different Church from where the rest of him is buried. His remains or at least most of them are in St Ignatius Church in Rome.
The Thunder of Passivity (21st June 2026, Feast of St Aloysius) by J.McTaggart
How I watch the tender Power
It comes from God in every hour
waiting Strength within It, Peace
I see inside this blessed Feast
And as the quiet mind reflects
the Power of quiet descends and says
Be still, my friend on you I rest
lay your trials upon my breast
I calm the ocean waves with, Still
and of My Peace you may be filled
while longings of a young man's life
No family, vocation, wife
Turn your gaze towards me now
while looking upwards and around
be not afraid to draw me close
for 'tis I, the One of Hope.
The Ecstasy of St. Aloysius (21st June 2026, Feast of St Aloysius) by J.McTaggart
O how the cloud descends upon, a waiting open mind
dissolving ego, human strength and will of every kind
embraced in Love dropped from above, a boy kneels on his floor
while a strong and tender presence knocks, upon a mental door.
And O the joy when one forgets the human mortal realm
surrounded by a Love and Force which gently takes the helm
an Angel swirling, deep in prayer his face lights up with glee
a Peace, a Love, enveloping, where humans' minds can't be.
O the moment thoughts are burnt and all that's left is God
a portal opens to the Love, where feet of Angels trod
no thoughts remain to block the sight, no mortal dream to see,
but only endless Light and Love and perfect harmony.