Greener grass and all that

Image from Wikimedia Commons

This is really quite delightful:

The grass is not, in fact, always greener on the other side of the fence. No, not at all. Fences have nothing to do with it. The grass is greenest where it is watered. When crossing over fences, carry water with you and tend the grass where ever you may be.

-- Robert Fulghum

Holy Innocents

Artist: Domenico Ghirlandaio

Because December 28 fell on a Sunday this year, the Feast of the Holy Innocents was transferred to today.

We could call them, I suppose, the patron saints of so-called collateral damage* (that terminology surely being one of the most wicked euphemisms of our time).

Here's something from the fifth century that bears pondering:

Herod is disturbed. To save his kingdom he resolves to kill [the Child], though if he would have faith in the child, he himself would reign in peace in this life and for ever in the life to come.

Why are you afraid, Herod, when you hear of the birth of a king? He does not come to drive you out, but to conquer the devil. But because you do not understand this you are disturbed and in a rage, and to destroy one child whom you seek, you show your cruelty in the death of so many children.

-- Saint Quodvultdeus

I would also like to call your attenion to a reflection by The Rev John Gibbs for this day. It is a page from a much larger website I just found called "Minnesota Episcopal Environmental Stewardship Commission". The Lectionary Reflections are quite powerful.

* Yes, I know. Technically, the definition of "collateral damage" is that it is "unintended". That, I propose, is a royal cop-out. If such damage is inevitable, it might as well be intended. Remember, Timothy McVeigh called the deaths of the children who died in the Oklahoma City bombing "collateral damage".

First Sunday after Christmas

First page of John's gospel from The St Petersburg Gospels

(Eighth Century)

This morning's gospel reading was the prologue to John's gospel. I grew up in the Anglo-catholic tradition and it was common after a "low" celebration of the Eucharist for the priest to read the so-called "Last Gospel" - AFTER the blessing! And I was taught to make a profound bow at the words, "And the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us". I'm very, very grateful for that background for it imprinted on my consciousness both a Eucharist devotion and an ongoing awareness of the centrality of the doctrine of the Incarnation that have turned out to be indelible:

No love that in a family dwells,
No caroling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare
That God was man in Palestine
And lives today in Bread and Wine.

-- John Betjeman

St. John the Evangelist

St. John the Evangelist by van Dyck, c.1620s

The following is by a different, much later John, of course. But I think the two shared a lot in their deepest hearts:

And I saw the river over which every soul must pass to reach the kingdom of heaven and the name of that river was suffering: and I saw a boat which carries souls across the river and the name of that boat was love.

-- Saint John of the Cross

Saint Stephen's Day

Artist: Carlo Crivelli

I remember well being taught as a child how significant it is that, on the day after Christmas Day, the Church chooses to honor the first person willingly to die for Christ - that person being, of course, the deacon Stephen. I used to teach for St. Stephen's School in Alexandria, Virginia - in those days an all boys school. It was quite stirring to hear hundreds of boys singing "He prayed for them that did the wrong; who follows in his train?" on many a chapel day. What Stephen prayed as his persecutors were stoning him was this: "Lay not this sin to their charge." Amazing.

In the past I've always considered this day to be one of reflection about the willingness to die for Christ. But this year I see it more as a call to be willing to forgive - no matter how egregious is the offense. Not condone. (People, sadly, often confuse forgiveness with condoning.) Stephen did label what was being done to him a sin, after all. But to find a way (no matter how long it takes, no matter how much work it takes) to wish for our enemies what we wish for ourselves - happiness, peace, alleviation from suffering and, finally, eternal life with God.

For a truly inspiring sermon on martyrdom by Lutheran pastor, Edward F. Markquart, go here.

But, perhaps the most inspiring words ever preached on this subject were uttered by St. Thomas Becket in the year 1170 - just four days before his own martyrdom:

Consider also one thing of which you have probably never thought. Not only do we at the feast of Christmas celebrate at once Our Lord's Birth and His Death: but on the next day we celebrate the martyrdom of His First martyr: the blessed Stephen. Is it an accident, do you think, that the day of the first martyr follows immediately the date of the Birth of Christ? By no means. Just as we rejoice and mourn at once, in the Birth and in the Passion of Our Lord; so also, in a smaller figure, we both rejoice and mourn in the death of martyrs. We mourn, for the sins of the world that has martyred them; we rejoice, that another soul is numbered among the Saints in Heaven for the glory of God and for the salvation of men.

Beloved, we do not think of a martyr simply as a good Christian who has been killed because he is a Christian: for that would be solely to mourn. We do not think of him simply as a good Christian who has been elevated to the company of the Saints: for that would be simply to rejoice: and neither our mourning nor our rejoicing is as the world's is. A Christian martyrdom is no accident. Saints are not made by accident. Still less is a Christian martyrdom the effect of a man's will to become a Saint, as a man by willing and contriving may become a ruler of men... for the true martyr is he who has become the instrument of God, who has lost his will in the will of God, not lost it but found it, for he has found freedom in submission to God. The martyr no longer desires anything for himself, not even the glory of martyrdom. So thus as on earth the Church mourns and rejoices at once, in a fashion that the world cannot understand; so in Heaven the Saints are most high, having made themselves most low, seeing themselves not as we see them, but in the light of the Godhead from which they draw their being.

May blessed St. Stephen strengthen us by his example and aid us with his prayers.

A Nativity awareness

Icon source here

Oh this is so lovely, so right:

The Child does not change how God feels toward you, my friends. The Child manifests how God feels toward you – lets you know that He has loved you with an everlasting love.

-- The Rev.William Weedon

The Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ

Here is one way of looking at the imcomparable gift of the Incarnaton:

There is nothing so secular that it cannot be sacred, and that is one of the deepest messages of the Incarnation.

-- Madeleine L'Engle

Chanticleer - Ave Maria (Biebl)

Oh my. What a performance.

You may not know the Biebl setting of the Ave Maria as it was only written in 1964 and introduced to the U.S. in 1970. Please listen; it is stunning.



UPDATE: If you would like to hear this with all women's voices go here. It's a truly ethereal performance.

Rejoice!

I've listened to many versions of this wonderful medieval carol (all for your sakes, dear Readers!) and this is, undoubtedly the best performance I've come across. Just the right tempo, just the right percussion and the tuning is sublime. Enjoy and Merry Christmas to all!

O Emmanuel

Artist: Dee Cooper Swift

This evening's antiphon:

O Emmanuel, our king and our lawgiver,
the hope of the nations and their Saviour:
Come to save us, O Lord our God.

The word "Emmanuel" means God-with-us. Here's a story about this meaning that was used as an introduction to a Christmas sermon:

The land of Persia was once ruled by a wise and beloved Shah who cared greatly for his people and desired only what was best for them. One day he disguised himself as a poor man and went to visit the public baths. The water for the baths was heated by a furnace in the cellar, so the Shah made his way to the dark place to sit with the man who tended the fire. The two men shared the coarse food, and the Shah befriended him in his loneliness. Day after day the ruler went to visit the man. The worker became attached to this stranger because he "came where he was." One day the Shah revealed his true identity, and he expected the man to ask him for a gift. Instead, he looked long into his leader's face and with love and wonder in his voice said, "You left your palace and your glory to sit with me in this dark place, to eat my coarse food, and to care about what happens to me. On others you may bestow rich gifts, but to me you have given yourself!"

It's from a sermon by The Rev. Adrian Dieleman. You can read all of it here.

O King of the nations

Image found here

This evening's antiphon:

O King of the nations, and their desire,
the cornerstone making both one:
Come and save the human race,
which you fashioned from clay.

Some observations about the kingship of Christ:

Being a king really meant something in Jesus' day. A king was the most powerful human being on earth. A king speaks, common people tremble.

For nations, the king was the only means of securing order and peace. The king was, civilization and domestic tranquillity personified in one person. He was to be honoured and respected and served. He was to be revered and feared and obeyed.
...
Jesus is not a worldly king. His power is not from this world, nor is it meant to be exercised in the way that the world exercises power.

Jesus exercised his power by serving others, by forgiving others, by healing others, by giving to others, by sacrificing himself for others. His power is the power of truth, the power of faith, the power of hope, the power of love - the power of life itself.

-- The Rev. Richard J. Fairchild

I especially am struck by the statement that the king was the only means of securing order and peace. It is so important to remember the "Peace on Earth" aspect of the Christmas message.

O Rising Dawn

Artist: Roy Lichtenstein

This evening's antiphon:

O Rising Dawn, Radiance of the Light eternal and Sun of Justice: come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.

Here's a brief commentary:

This title is variously translated "morning star", "Dayspring", "rising sun", "radiant dawn", "orient". All beautifully express the idea of light shattering the darkness of night, of sin and death, of sickness and despair, with its brightness bringing healing and warmth to cold hearts. Jesus is indeed the true light, the radiance of his Father's splendor.

What a perfect antiphon for the winter solstice!

Fourth Sunday of Advent

Artist: Sr. Claire Joy

Ah! I've been waiting all Advent to post the above picture. You can find it in the Art Blog section of Episcopal Café.

Here's a wonderful thought:

Who knows the influence of a mother on her unborn child? Here is a world of mystery which is still not wholly understood. But is it not possible that something of the concept of dedicated servanthood which was at the very heart of this young pregnant woman ‘got through’ to the child as yet unborn, and became an integral part in the shaping of his manhood and ministry? . . .

Mary saw, with a God-given clarity, at the moment of her greatest crisis, that servanthood lies at the very centre of the meaning of life as God intends it to be lived. Servanthood, obedience, in the great crises of life and in the little decisions of everyday, Mary saw as things of first importance. And so she doubtless taught the little boy on her lap, at her knee, through all his formative years.

...

One of the greatest gifts that a mother can give to her children is not only to pray for them but, from their earliest years, to teach them to pray. We may be sure that Mary's little boy was not very old when he began to pray the prayer which his mother used when first she knew she was pregnant: ‘I am the Lord’s servant; may it be to me as you have said’, or, to put it more simply and shortly, ‘Your will be done’.

-- Donald Coggan

O Key of David

David with his harp

Artist: Marc Chagall

Today's antiphon:

O Key of David and Scepter of the house of Israel, You open and no one can close, You close and no one can open: Come and rescue the prisoners who are in darkness and in the shadow of death.

Here's something about spiritual imprisonment that I think is pertinent:

You must recall the words "salvation" or "liberation" that are used in all religions. The final goal of all religions is salvation, or emancipation, or whatever word is most suitable in each language. But all these words have the same meaning -- getting saved. All religions teach salvation. Yet, from what are we saved? We are saved from spiritual prison. The thing that all of you want and need even right at this moment is the thing called "freedom" or "liberty," which is, simply, escape from prison. Whether a physical, material prison or a mental, spiritual prison, the meaning is the same. In all cases, we want freedom.

Those who lack wisdom can see and fear only the physical, material prisons. But those who have the wisdom to look more deeply will see how much more terrifying and dangerous the spiritual prison is...

O root of Jesse

Jesse Tree

Today's antiphon:

O Root of Jesse you stand as an ensign to the peoples; before you kings shall keep silence, all nations bow in worship: come and save us, and do not delay.

Here's the end of a reflection I found about the "root of Jesse" image:

Our hope is pinned on a dead tree shaped into a cross. Dag Hammarskjold, the late Secretary General of the United Nations, wrote in his journal on Christmas Eve 1960, “The manger is situated on Golgotha (the hill of the cross), and the cross has already been raised in Bethlehem.” Our hope is pinned on a cross, a dead tree. Our hope is found in a stump, in a root, in a vine, on a cross fashioned of dead branches. Our Hope is in the one who was lifted on a cross and raised the banner that is drawing all peoples to rally around him. “A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit. . . . In that day the Root of Jesse will stand as a banner for the peoples; the nations will rally to him, and his resting place will be glorious.” (Isaiah 11:1, 10.) Our hope is in Jesus, right from the stump and root of Jesse.

-- Harry Heintz

O Adonai

Moses and the Burning Bush by A. Friberg

Here is today's antiphon:

O Adonai and leader of Israel, you appeared to Moses in a burning bush and you gave him the Law on Sinai. O come and save us with your mighty power.

And here is part of a reflection I found on a blog called Sarx:

Ultimately, the only way to understand God - as with any person - is to enter into conversation with that person. As God called Moses into fellowship at the Burning Bush, so God calls us (all humanity) into Fellowship in the incarnation of Jesus. Some images of Mary holding Jesus in her arms are called icons of The Burning Bush.

The First of the Great Antiphons of Advent

Icon of Holy Wisdom

O Wisdom, you came forth from the mouth of the Most High, reaching from one end of the earth to the other, mightily and sweetly ordering all things: Come and teach us the way of prudence.

I found this paragraph in a reflection on the Advent antiphons from Anglicans Online:

We look forward to the antiphons in their own right each year, because their appearance on the calendar means that we can quicken our own hopes in anticipation of the Saviour's birth. Their arrival is much like seeing a familiar highway exit still just a little way away from home, or a train stop not far from one's intended destination. They comfort, heighten, calm and focus, but they are also direct and demanding.

Have yourself a peace and justice Christmas

This is from Sojourners. It's to the tune of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas":

Have yourself a peace and justice Christmas,
Set your heart a-right.
Flee the malls and focus on Christ’s guiding light.

Have yourself a peace and justice Christmas,
Give your time a way.
Share God’s love,
And serve “the least of these” today.

Here we are, as we pray for peace,
We’ll live simply and give more.
We care for those far and near to us,
Which brings cheer to us, once more.

God brings down
The haughty from high places,
And lifts up the low.
God cares for the hungry and the humble, so –
Forget the stress and let the peace and justice flow!

And here are some ideas for how to do it.

An Advent prayer

Our Lady of Sorrows

I came across this prayer today which is entitled "Advent as I Consider the World Situation":

God of comfort, these times seem so uncertain, so scary. The world seems darker than it has in the past and I am less sure of myself. Maybe that's a good thing; maybe now I am turning to you with a realization that I need you so much more and that my life is not in my own control. Let me not forget all of those around the world who are frightened at this moment. Help those who are victims of terrorism and war. Be with those who have lost so much in the past year. Hold us all in your loving arms and let us be comforted by the strength and peace you want to much to offer us through the birth of your son, Jesus. Thank you for the many gifts you offer us.

Yesterday, I was one of the presenters for an interfaith prayer service sponsored by the India Association of Greater Tulsa. We were gathered to offer prayer for and express our solidarity with the people of Mumbai in the aftermath of the terrorist attacks they have recently sustained. It reminds me that this is not a season of joy for everyone by any means. Let us pray for all who are experiencing great pain during this time of year.

Third Sunday of Advent

Image found here

Today is Gaudete Sunday - Rejoice Sunday. Today's Epistle starts out this way: "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." And so we light the rose candle on the Advent wreath. And we focus on both hope and joy.

Here is an Advent prayer by the late Henri Nouwen that points to this invitation to joy:

Lord Jesus, Master of both the light and the darkness, send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas.

We who have so much to do seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day.

We who are anxious over many things look forward to your coming among us.

We who are blessed in so many ways long for the complete joy of your kingdom.

We whose hearts are heavy seek the joy of your presence.

We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light. To you we say, “Come Lord Jesus!”