And every now and then I look at a word and know beyond a doubt that I have never seen it before.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Today's word
pococurante \POH-koh-kyoo-RAN-tee\ - indifferent, nonchalant
Monday, December 30, 2013
On that day . . .
Had to deal with a Blue Screen of Death this morning, first thing, so couldn't take time to reflect. But today's readings were full of that day when we come to our fulfillment in him.
I can't wait.
This is, of course, the true meaning of Christmas which we celebrate. The birth of Christ would be meaningless 2000 years later were it not for the new nature he has brought us.
I can't wait.
This is, of course, the true meaning of Christmas which we celebrate. The birth of Christ would be meaningless 2000 years later were it not for the new nature he has brought us.
Today's words
saponaceous \sap-uh-NAY-shus\ - resembling or having the qualities of soap
A word I looked at with a "Huh?" A definition I looked at with an "Oh, yeah, that's right."imbricate \IM-brih-kut\ - lying lapped over each other in regular order
And another word I think I've probably at least seen once before; this one I don't think I could have pronounced, let alone defined. If I can remember its pronunciation when I see it, I'll probably be more likely to remember its meaning. (I remember thinking before, though, that this would be the key, and it didn't work this time.)
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Lessons from Nazareth
I'm not going to quote Pope Paul VI directly here, but in today's Office of Readings he mentions three things we should learn from Nazareth. I'm paraphrasing, and maybe referring to others (certainly there's a Matthew Kelly reference here):
- God speaks many lessons to us and gives us growth and maturity in the school of silence, which we cannot receive if we do not come away from the clamoring cacaphony of the world. This is even more true today than it was in the 1960s and '70s when Paul was our holy father. No matter the size of our domestic church, it is too easy for us to become distracted by the noise of daily life. But in that life's rhythm, if we are careful to carve out time for it, there is a quiet transformation that can take place in the midst of the routine, a daily living in love that undergirds and gives context and new meaning to all of it. This will not happen without our conscious participation, if we fail to actively listen for the voice of the Father.
- Family is central to God's plan for each of us.
- Work is valuable, not for its own sake but for its effect on us and in context with the first two lessons. It is not a mere drudgery that we cannot avoid, but a gift God gives us.
Friday, December 27, 2013
St. John the Apostle
On this feast day, again so close to Christmas Day, we at least get a taste of the eternal perspective with which St. John begins both his gospel and his first epistle. Though I like the development and the context of the former more than the latter, I am happy that the first reading of the Office of Readings today is brings us a good chunk of the first chapter from this letter. For a moment I felt chagrined, as I misunderstood the beloved apostle as chastising me for still having emotional darkness, but then I saw that he was referring to the darkness of unacknowledged sin.
And I took great encouragement from St. Augustine's reflection on this epistle. What a great work God did in the conversion of this brilliant man's mind from lesser philosophical pursuits to the unfathomable depths of God in Christ Jesus!
Someone might interpret the phrase the Word of life to mean a word about Christ, rather than Christ’s body itself which was touched by human hands. But consider what comes next: and life itself was revealed. Christ therefore is himself the Word of life.
And how was this life revealed? It existed from the beginning, but was not revealed to men, only to angels, who looked upon it and feasted upon it as their own spiritual bread. But what does Scripture say? Mankind ate the bread of angels.
Life itself was therefore revealed in the flesh. In this way what was visible to the heart alone could become visible also to the eye, and so heal men’s hearts. For the Word is visible to the heart alone, while flesh is visible to bodily eyes as well. We already possessed the means to see the flesh, but we had no means of seeing the Word. The Word was made flesh so that we could see it, to heal the part of us by which we could see the Word. - from a treatise by St. Augustine on the (first) epistle of St. John
And I took great encouragement from St. Augustine's reflection on this epistle. What a great work God did in the conversion of this brilliant man's mind from lesser philosophical pursuits to the unfathomable depths of God in Christ Jesus!
Someone might interpret the phrase the Word of life to mean a word about Christ, rather than Christ’s body itself which was touched by human hands. But consider what comes next: and life itself was revealed. Christ therefore is himself the Word of life.
And how was this life revealed? It existed from the beginning, but was not revealed to men, only to angels, who looked upon it and feasted upon it as their own spiritual bread. But what does Scripture say? Mankind ate the bread of angels.
Life itself was therefore revealed in the flesh. In this way what was visible to the heart alone could become visible also to the eye, and so heal men’s hearts. For the Word is visible to the heart alone, while flesh is visible to bodily eyes as well. We already possessed the means to see the flesh, but we had no means of seeing the Word. The Word was made flesh so that we could see it, to heal the part of us by which we could see the Word. - from a treatise by St. Augustine on the (first) epistle of St. John
The story of our Advent wreath
I forgot that our guest had been through our RCIA program, so I was unprepared for her observation that she had the same Advent wreath, and had similarly adorned it with something sparse yet decorative to dress it up a little. I didn't want to digress into the story of how we came to have ours. It still hurts to have misread someone so badly, especially someone who ended up so callously hurting our daughter..
We were so glad when she had found someone with whom she seemed to have a good relationship, and though he wasn't Catholic he seemed open to learning about God and our faith. They were married, and not long thereafter he started inquiring about our faith, attending the inquirer's group at Rita's house, and soon decided to enter the RCIA process. I was honored when he asked me to sponsor him, and tried to support him well. I had answers for most of the questions he had along the way, but of course that is all head stuff.
And it turns out he probably never had a heart encounter with Jesus in the Holy Spirit. Within a year after he was baptized at Easter vigil, he broke up with our daughter and left the church. He did agree to meet with me soon thereafter to talk about things, and I think he really resented himself for being even momentarily influenced to think differently about things from how he had made up his mind. But his heart was already hardened; he was determined to file for divorce and would brook no consideration of any other course of action.
A couple of years later he sought a reconciliation with our daughter. My wife and I recognized as a result of their past experiences that they would probably benefit from some counseling so that they didn't repeat their mistakes, and recommended this to our daughter, but he was not open to the suggestion and she was determined to try to work things out anyway. The most telling indicator we had was that he was secretive with his family about resuming their relationship. Too, he seemed different: more jaded, I suppose, not as open. He didn't share himself as freely, or laugh as easily; though we weren't the first to notice it, he was often caustic and his humor was biting. She acceded when he asked her to move into an apartment with him, but within a week he moved back out, sticking her with the lease, practically boasting to the rental office that he didn't care when they pointed out the adverse effect this would have on her credit. Fortunately they recognized the predicament he had placed her in - there was no way she could afford the place on just her own income - and didn't rake her over the coals with penalties.
On the one hand, I recognize that he treated her terribly, and that he has his own issues to deal with that were at work in their relationship all along. I'm glad he can't hurt her anymore. His subsequent pursuit of our next-door neighbor's friendship (and he wanted more) was in poor judgment. And yet every time I get out this wreath that he received in the RCIA program, as his sponsor in the faith I am reminded of his hurting soul. I pray for him to return to the faith that he never truly embraced the first time around, and for his brokenness to be healed. Lord, please be at work in his life and transform his heart into a place where your Spirit abides.
We were so glad when she had found someone with whom she seemed to have a good relationship, and though he wasn't Catholic he seemed open to learning about God and our faith. They were married, and not long thereafter he started inquiring about our faith, attending the inquirer's group at Rita's house, and soon decided to enter the RCIA process. I was honored when he asked me to sponsor him, and tried to support him well. I had answers for most of the questions he had along the way, but of course that is all head stuff.
And it turns out he probably never had a heart encounter with Jesus in the Holy Spirit. Within a year after he was baptized at Easter vigil, he broke up with our daughter and left the church. He did agree to meet with me soon thereafter to talk about things, and I think he really resented himself for being even momentarily influenced to think differently about things from how he had made up his mind. But his heart was already hardened; he was determined to file for divorce and would brook no consideration of any other course of action.
A couple of years later he sought a reconciliation with our daughter. My wife and I recognized as a result of their past experiences that they would probably benefit from some counseling so that they didn't repeat their mistakes, and recommended this to our daughter, but he was not open to the suggestion and she was determined to try to work things out anyway. The most telling indicator we had was that he was secretive with his family about resuming their relationship. Too, he seemed different: more jaded, I suppose, not as open. He didn't share himself as freely, or laugh as easily; though we weren't the first to notice it, he was often caustic and his humor was biting. She acceded when he asked her to move into an apartment with him, but within a week he moved back out, sticking her with the lease, practically boasting to the rental office that he didn't care when they pointed out the adverse effect this would have on her credit. Fortunately they recognized the predicament he had placed her in - there was no way she could afford the place on just her own income - and didn't rake her over the coals with penalties.
On the one hand, I recognize that he treated her terribly, and that he has his own issues to deal with that were at work in their relationship all along. I'm glad he can't hurt her anymore. His subsequent pursuit of our next-door neighbor's friendship (and he wanted more) was in poor judgment. And yet every time I get out this wreath that he received in the RCIA program, as his sponsor in the faith I am reminded of his hurting soul. I pray for him to return to the faith that he never truly embraced the first time around, and for his brokenness to be healed. Lord, please be at work in his life and transform his heart into a place where your Spirit abides.
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Maybe it's the sugar crash and lack of sleep . . .
I know the link between Christmas and St. Stephen's day, and I know I should be able to celebrate the latter more ebulliently. Yet I inevitably find myself a little disappointed in today's reflection, even though Stephen's martyrdom is the very sort of victory which the Babe was born to win for us.
And I also know this says more about my own lack of spiritual maturity than of anything lacking in the Church's calendar during the Christmas season.
Silly rhetoric
Scientists feel they are facing a new era of limits even as the universe itself is screaming to be explored. - headline, Washington Post website, December 26, 2013
Really? We're supposed to believe that the universe has lately cranked up its clamoring for us to discover its mysteries? (And I thought that was just my tinnitus worsening.)
In some ways, though more respectable than most, scientific knowledge is like any other addiction. There is always more, and the more you have the more you want. This is the danger of every false idol we deify.
Today's word
paraphernalia \pair-uh-fuh-NAIL-yuh\ - 1. the separate real or personal property of a married woman that she can dispose of by will and sometimes according to common law during her life 2. personal belongings 3a. articles of equipment : furnishings b. accessory items : appurtenances
An obviously familiar word; it seems that I must have encountered the original definition at some point in my distant past. Also, when I see this word, my mind insists on trying to pronounce the second "r," but I don't think this ever happens when I use the word conversationally.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Merry Christmas, 2013
Sadness should have no place on the birthday of life. The fear of death has been swallowed up; life brings us joy with the promise of eternal happiness.
No one is shut out from that joy; all share the same reason for rejoicing. - from a sermon by St. Leo the Great, pope
Indeed, in these days when I have been missing my loved ones so much, I have also been feeling united with them in the one Hope that we share. I know others whose hearts are heavy this Christmas season, whose grief or fear is perhaps too fresh to be dismissed by today's glad tidings of great joy. I pray that you will touch their hearts anyway, Lord, and draw them into your presence in a way that transcends and includes their current feelings and circumstances.
May your heart too, dear reader, be flooded with a deep and abiding sense of God's loving presence, as we are united in him and all those we love in the eternal moment.
("Transcends and includes," in regard to God's work, seems to be my idea of the season. I just used it last week in a letter to a friend, too.)
No one is shut out from that joy; all share the same reason for rejoicing. - from a sermon by St. Leo the Great, pope
Indeed, in these days when I have been missing my loved ones so much, I have also been feeling united with them in the one Hope that we share. I know others whose hearts are heavy this Christmas season, whose grief or fear is perhaps too fresh to be dismissed by today's glad tidings of great joy. I pray that you will touch their hearts anyway, Lord, and draw them into your presence in a way that transcends and includes their current feelings and circumstances.
May your heart too, dear reader, be flooded with a deep and abiding sense of God's loving presence, as we are united in him and all those we love in the eternal moment.
("Transcends and includes," in regard to God's work, seems to be my idea of the season. I just used it last week in a letter to a friend, too.)
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Holding fast to grace
I tell you again: for your sake, God became man.
You would have suffered eternal death, had he not been born in time. Never would you have been freed from sinful flesh, had he not taken on himself the likeness of sinful flesh. You would have suffered everlasting unhappiness, had it not been for this mercy. You would never have returned to life, had he not shared your death. You would have been lost if he had not hastened to your aid. You would have perished, had he not come. - from a sermon by St. Augustine, bishop
I love St. Augustine. When he was converted from his profligate life, he became a well-suited witness to God's grace and mercy. Knowing he had no place to claim for his own in Christ, be merely accepted the place which Christ himself purchased for him. He would have eagerly replaced "you" and "your" with "I" and "mine" in this sermon had he been giving his own testimony rather than an exhortation. He goes on:
Let us then joyfully celebrate the coming of our salvation and redemption. Let us celebrate the festive day on which he who is the great and eternal day came from the great and endless day of eternity into our own short day of time . . . .
For what greater grace could God have made to dawn on us than to make his only Son become the son of man, so that a son of man might in his turn become son of God?
Ask if this were merited; ask for its reason, for its justification, and see whether you will find any other answer but sheer grace.
I have quoted this last section in the past without commenting further on it. It seems so self-sufficient. But it is good to remember that nothing else we seek from God is so great as this gift that so many disdain, indeed which even we, the (so-called) faithful (for God alone is faithful; indeed, our faith is a gift from God) sometimes take for granted. We reject the perfect Gift of himself which God has given in our longing for some other gift which we deem more estimable.
On this eve of Christmas, in the holy season when I write these words, or on whatever day it may be when you read them, let us instead embrace the unfathomable grace which allows us to be what we could never deserve to be, precious children of our loving, holy God.
You would have suffered eternal death, had he not been born in time. Never would you have been freed from sinful flesh, had he not taken on himself the likeness of sinful flesh. You would have suffered everlasting unhappiness, had it not been for this mercy. You would never have returned to life, had he not shared your death. You would have been lost if he had not hastened to your aid. You would have perished, had he not come. - from a sermon by St. Augustine, bishop
I love St. Augustine. When he was converted from his profligate life, he became a well-suited witness to God's grace and mercy. Knowing he had no place to claim for his own in Christ, be merely accepted the place which Christ himself purchased for him. He would have eagerly replaced "you" and "your" with "I" and "mine" in this sermon had he been giving his own testimony rather than an exhortation. He goes on:
Let us then joyfully celebrate the coming of our salvation and redemption. Let us celebrate the festive day on which he who is the great and eternal day came from the great and endless day of eternity into our own short day of time . . . .
For what greater grace could God have made to dawn on us than to make his only Son become the son of man, so that a son of man might in his turn become son of God?
Ask if this were merited; ask for its reason, for its justification, and see whether you will find any other answer but sheer grace.
I have quoted this last section in the past without commenting further on it. It seems so self-sufficient. But it is good to remember that nothing else we seek from God is so great as this gift that so many disdain, indeed which even we, the (so-called) faithful (for God alone is faithful; indeed, our faith is a gift from God) sometimes take for granted. We reject the perfect Gift of himself which God has given in our longing for some other gift which we deem more estimable.
On this eve of Christmas, in the holy season when I write these words, or on whatever day it may be when you read them, let us instead embrace the unfathomable grace which allows us to be what we could never deserve to be, precious children of our loving, holy God.
A puddle of wax
I know why I feel out of sorts this morning, right before Christmas. It isn't because I was so busy yesterday, but because I chose to sin rather than to walk in the grace I have been given. All season I have been focused on this image of the unity of the saints for all eternity, and yesterday I threw it away in order to indulge in my old habits of thought and flesh. My soul feels degraded.
"The (person) who walks in darkness has seen a great light," and instead chose the darkness.
And feels as if he always will. Not every time, but often enough.
I'm not going to ask you, Lord, to take this defeated feeling away from me, because I know I deserve it.
"The (person) who walks in darkness has seen a great light," and instead chose the darkness.
And feels as if he always will. Not every time, but often enough.
I'm not going to ask you, Lord, to take this defeated feeling away from me, because I know I deserve it.
Monday, December 23, 2013
By My Side
Where are you going?
Where are you going?
Can you take me with you?
For my hand is cold, and needs warmth.
Where are you going?
Far beyond where the horizon lies
where the horizon lies
and the land sinks into mellow blueness.
Oh, please take me with you!
Let me skip the road with you.
I can dare myself.
I can dare myself.
I'll put a pebble in my shoe, and watch me walk.
I can walk and walk!
I shall call the pebble Dare
We will talk together about walking
Dare shall be carried, and when we both have had enough
I will take him from my shoe singing, "Meet your new road!"
Then I'll take your hand
finally glad that you are here
by my side.
By My Side, from Godspell
Where are you going?
Can you take me with you?
For my hand is cold, and needs warmth.
Where are you going?
Far beyond where the horizon lies
where the horizon lies
and the land sinks into mellow blueness.
Oh, please take me with you!
Let me skip the road with you.
I can dare myself.
I can dare myself.
I'll put a pebble in my shoe, and watch me walk.
I can walk and walk!
I shall call the pebble Dare
We will talk together about walking
Dare shall be carried, and when we both have had enough
I will take him from my shoe singing, "Meet your new road!"
Then I'll take your hand
finally glad that you are here
by my side.
By My Side, from Godspell
Today's words
eupeptic \yoo-PEP-tik\ - 1. of, relating to, or having good digestion 2. cheerful, optimistic
I think I may have heard this word before, but I definitely knew the first definition when I looked at the word, and the second makes sense in light of the first.rouille \ROO-ee\ - a peppery garlic sauce
Those who would give the French grief for their unimaginative sauce names (this one named for its rust color; named for its brown color) ought not take too much pride in a white sauce or a brown gravy.
The Lord is close at hand; come, let us worship him!
Yes, the Lord shall comfort Zion
and have pity on all her ruins;
Her deserts he shall make like Eden,
her wasteland like the garden of the Lord;
Joy and gladness shall be found in her,
thanksgiving and the sound of song . . . .
Those whom the Lord has ransomed will return
and enter Zion singing,
crowned with everlasting joy;
They will meet with joy and gladness,
sorrow and mourning will flee. - Is 51: 3, 11
It is a comfort for me to think that this prophecy is for my departed loved ones - my grandparents, parents (including the father I've never known, the adoptive one who killed himself in his alcoholic darkness, and even the still-living stepfather who hurt me more than both of the others), deceased friends, and especially my dear sister - as much as it is for me. In fact, it would be little comfort for me at all if "they" who will meet with joy and gladness were not to include them.
There is only one God, brethren, and we learn about him only from sacred Scripture. It is therefore our duty to become acquainted with what Scripture proclaims and to investigate its teachings thoroughly. We should believe them in the sense that the Father wills, thinking of the Son in the way the Father wills, and accepting the teaching he wills to give us with regard to the Holy Spirit. Sacred Scripture is God's gift to us and it should be understood in the way that he intends: we should not do violence to it by interpreting it according to our own preconceived ideas. - from a treatise against the heresy of Noetus by Saint Hippolytus, priest
And here is where the modern world gets it completely wrong. The way in which St. Hippolytus insists we should never interpret Scripture is the only way in which most of us ever do!
The remainder of this wonderful passage from this treatise in today's Office of Readings is an expansion on the first chapter of St. John's gospel. This helps me not resent so much our parish's refusal to use any gospel on Christmas except the St. Luke account from midnight mass. I love the passage from John which we never use, which for me captures the true meaning of Christmas in a far more significant way than the historical details of Jesus' birth does, which serve primarily to give testimony to the true nature of the profound miracle that took place on that night.
I also love the song we'll be singing at the presentation of the gifts:
Come faithful one and all this Christmastide
Come to the banquet hall, enter inside
This is the feast of love Christ has prepared
Holy communion with us is shared
Refrain:
Celebrate His coming
Meditate the cost
Look beyond the cradle
And behold the cross
Drink the cup of joy
Eat the bread of life
Taste and see the beauty
Of this holy night
God clothed in human flesh, Immanuel
from heav'n descended with us to dwell
Once clothed in mystery, hidden, concealed
Truth in a manger now is revealed
(Refrain)
Coda:
Taste and see the beauty
Of this holy holy night - Christmas Communion Song, Susan Nay Calloway
This connection between the manger, the eternal God who condescended to enter it, and the reason he did so is too often missing from our consideration of this indescribable event.
It probably seems a bit ironic of me to use the word "indescribable" for something I seem to be trying to describe. Yet I believe there is a difference between a description of something and an entering into it. And I do not believe we can fully do the latter without giving it fresh consideration from a deeper perspective. It isn't that we are reaching for its as-yet-ungrasped nuances from an intellectual perspective, but doing our part (by God's grace) to listen more closely to God, to allow him to touch us (by grace) more profoundly, more transformingly, with the ever-richer depths of his unfathomable love.
and have pity on all her ruins;
Her deserts he shall make like Eden,
her wasteland like the garden of the Lord;
Joy and gladness shall be found in her,
thanksgiving and the sound of song . . . .
Those whom the Lord has ransomed will return
and enter Zion singing,
crowned with everlasting joy;
They will meet with joy and gladness,
sorrow and mourning will flee. - Is 51: 3, 11
It is a comfort for me to think that this prophecy is for my departed loved ones - my grandparents, parents (including the father I've never known, the adoptive one who killed himself in his alcoholic darkness, and even the still-living stepfather who hurt me more than both of the others), deceased friends, and especially my dear sister - as much as it is for me. In fact, it would be little comfort for me at all if "they" who will meet with joy and gladness were not to include them.
There is only one God, brethren, and we learn about him only from sacred Scripture. It is therefore our duty to become acquainted with what Scripture proclaims and to investigate its teachings thoroughly. We should believe them in the sense that the Father wills, thinking of the Son in the way the Father wills, and accepting the teaching he wills to give us with regard to the Holy Spirit. Sacred Scripture is God's gift to us and it should be understood in the way that he intends: we should not do violence to it by interpreting it according to our own preconceived ideas. - from a treatise against the heresy of Noetus by Saint Hippolytus, priest
And here is where the modern world gets it completely wrong. The way in which St. Hippolytus insists we should never interpret Scripture is the only way in which most of us ever do!
The remainder of this wonderful passage from this treatise in today's Office of Readings is an expansion on the first chapter of St. John's gospel. This helps me not resent so much our parish's refusal to use any gospel on Christmas except the St. Luke account from midnight mass. I love the passage from John which we never use, which for me captures the true meaning of Christmas in a far more significant way than the historical details of Jesus' birth does, which serve primarily to give testimony to the true nature of the profound miracle that took place on that night.
I also love the song we'll be singing at the presentation of the gifts:
Come faithful one and all this Christmastide
Come to the banquet hall, enter inside
This is the feast of love Christ has prepared
Holy communion with us is shared
Refrain:
Celebrate His coming
Meditate the cost
Look beyond the cradle
And behold the cross
Drink the cup of joy
Eat the bread of life
Taste and see the beauty
Of this holy night
God clothed in human flesh, Immanuel
from heav'n descended with us to dwell
Once clothed in mystery, hidden, concealed
Truth in a manger now is revealed
(Refrain)
Coda:
Taste and see the beauty
Of this holy holy night - Christmas Communion Song, Susan Nay Calloway
This connection between the manger, the eternal God who condescended to enter it, and the reason he did so is too often missing from our consideration of this indescribable event.
It probably seems a bit ironic of me to use the word "indescribable" for something I seem to be trying to describe. Yet I believe there is a difference between a description of something and an entering into it. And I do not believe we can fully do the latter without giving it fresh consideration from a deeper perspective. It isn't that we are reaching for its as-yet-ungrasped nuances from an intellectual perspective, but doing our part (by God's grace) to listen more closely to God, to allow him to touch us (by grace) more profoundly, more transformingly, with the ever-richer depths of his unfathomable love.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Today's word
palpate \PAL-payt\ - to examine by touch, especially medically
Completely missed this one, confusing it with palpitate. Related word, but very different. Would never have guess at the latter's etymological relationship to "feel." Also would have misassociated "palp." The thing is, once I saw this definition I was certain that I have seen it before somewhere in a medical context.
Giving birth to the Savior
Mary said: My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my Savior. The Lord has exalted me with a gift so great, so unheard of, that language is useless to describe it, and the depths of love in my heart can scarcely grasp it. I offer then all the powers of my soul in praise and thanksgiving. As I contemplate his greatness, which knows no limits, I joyfully surrender my whole life, my senses, my judgment, for my spirit rejoices in the eternal Godhead of that Jesus, that Savior, whom I have conceived in this world of time. - From a commentary on Luke by St. Bede the Venerable
I am certain that all of us underestimate what a great gift God has bestowed upon us. There is certainly a great dearth of gratitude to him for him, and I fail as greatly as anyone in this, settling my attention to often upon what I perceive to be my lack rather than on God's abundant Providence. Especially when I consider that Christ dwells within me by the Holy Spirit and that I, like Mary, am blessed with the unspeakable honor of bearing him to the world, my heart finally begins to overflow with the praise that should be the hallmark of my entire life.
Let my soul proclaim your greatness, O Lord, unrestricted by my mind's and my heart's frequent distractedness by less important things.
I am certain that all of us underestimate what a great gift God has bestowed upon us. There is certainly a great dearth of gratitude to him for him, and I fail as greatly as anyone in this, settling my attention to often upon what I perceive to be my lack rather than on God's abundant Providence. Especially when I consider that Christ dwells within me by the Holy Spirit and that I, like Mary, am blessed with the unspeakable honor of bearing him to the world, my heart finally begins to overflow with the praise that should be the hallmark of my entire life.
Let my soul proclaim your greatness, O Lord, unrestricted by my mind's and my heart's frequent distractedness by less important things.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
A quick prayer
Lord, I don't know why I'm feeling down this evening, but I'm using it as a reminder to pray for those I know who are experiencing unusual challenges during this holiday season. Provide them comfort in your divine presence, Lord my God.
Another Advent treasure
Elizabeth had been filled with the Spirit after she conceived, but Mary before, at the moment the angel had come. “Blessed are you,” said Elizabeth, “who believed”.
You too, my people, are blessed, you who have heard and who believe. Every soul that believes — that soul both conceives and gives birth to the Word of God and recognizes his works.
Let the soul of Mary be in each one of you, to proclaim the greatness of the Lord. Let the spirit of Mary be in each one of you, to rejoice in God. According to the flesh only one woman can be the mother of Christ but in the world of faith Christ is the fruit of all of us. - from a commentary on Luke by St. Ambrose, bishop
(First of all: my apologies, St. Ambrose, if this reflection should go in a direction that would displease you. It occurs to me that perhaps I am being presumptuous in adding to the thoughts of the great saints. But then, I believe that it is the same Holy Spirit blessing me with insight that inspired theirs, so as I think more about it, I imagine they are pleased.)
At first there seemed not much to add, but I began to think about what happened after Christ was conceived in Mary's womb. He began to develop there, as her body naturally provided growth to his in the security of her uterus, as every mother's does for her preborn child. Likewise, when Christ is first spiritually conceived in us, he must grow before we are able to give spiritual birth. This is partly beyond our control and yet very much under it, as well, for while it is the Holy Spirit which gives growth to the presence of Christ within us, it is not so natural or automatic in us as the nurturing of the child within the womb. Rather, we must choose to participate in the process, allowing the Spirit to reveal to us those obstacles to Christ's growth within us. Thus St. Ambrose continues:
For every soul can receive the Word of God if only it is pure and preserves itself in chastity and modesty.
The soul that has been able to reach this state proclaims the greatness of the Lord just as Mary did and rejoices in God its savior just like her.
Of course, none of us reaches full purity of chastity and modesty in this life, but we embrace these, and humbly accept that God's desire for us is greater than the choices we might otherwise make for ourselves. Even in some cases as we make the only choice that appears possible to us knowing that it is counter to God's revealed will, in humility we ask God's forgiveness along the way and the Spirit's help in making a more trusting choice the next time. Just as Jesus did not reach full maturity within the womb of Mary, but continued to grow into his physical adulthood, so Jesus continues to grow in us after we have first allowed him to be born within us, as we continue to trust in him and come to know him more intimately through the time we spend in his presence.
(I'm torn here, a bit, between the translation at the Universalis site and that from my breviary. Apparently a different translation is used in Britain, or at least by Universalis Publishing. I have generally quoted my breviary in the past, but above I've used the online translation primarily due to ease of entry but also because of the severity of one passage: the previously quoted section began in my breviary, "Every soul receives the Word of God if only it keeps chaste, remaining pure and free from sin, its modesty undefiled." This is impossible except by the growth of Christ within the soul, which obviously requires the cooperation of each soul, but this wording seemed to present an inappropriate expectation of perfection in the believer. However, I prefer the clarity of the breviary's translation for the following passage, so that is the version I'm using here:)
In another place we read: Magnify the Lord with me. The Lord is magnified, not because the human voice can add anything to God but because he is magnified within us. Christ is the image of God, and if the soul does what is right and holy, it magnifies that image of God, in whose likeness it was created and, in magnifying the image of God, the soul has a share in its greatness and is exalted.
It probably bears reiteration that, while the individual soul's cooperation with this process is an essential prerequisite, the entire process is still God's grace at work, just as it was in Mary's life. The initial inspiration of the Holy Spirit is a gift of God to us. The first stirring and submission of our will to this initial inspiration is likewise God's gift of grace; though it requires our choice, the very free will to make that choice is also God's gift. The resulting desire of our hearts to please God is a gift of God; as is the thought processes and the humility that allow us to trust that God knows better than we do, and the strength and conviction to then act on that belief; and the resulting growth of Christ in us that allows him to be born into the world in and through us, while requiring our cooperation along the way, is still entirely the gift of God. This is a stumbling block for our prideful insistence on getting full credit for what we do, yet our insistence that it must be up to us is a huge obstacle to God's growth within us. It's opposite obstacle is when we just wait for God to do it all without engaging our own cooperation in the process. Between these two impassable mountains is a peaceful valley path that follows the stream of Living Water, where we find our sustenance and growth in the confident knowledge that this is all God's gift to us, and in this vale he is magnified within us.
You too, my people, are blessed, you who have heard and who believe. Every soul that believes — that soul both conceives and gives birth to the Word of God and recognizes his works.
Let the soul of Mary be in each one of you, to proclaim the greatness of the Lord. Let the spirit of Mary be in each one of you, to rejoice in God. According to the flesh only one woman can be the mother of Christ but in the world of faith Christ is the fruit of all of us. - from a commentary on Luke by St. Ambrose, bishop
(First of all: my apologies, St. Ambrose, if this reflection should go in a direction that would displease you. It occurs to me that perhaps I am being presumptuous in adding to the thoughts of the great saints. But then, I believe that it is the same Holy Spirit blessing me with insight that inspired theirs, so as I think more about it, I imagine they are pleased.)
At first there seemed not much to add, but I began to think about what happened after Christ was conceived in Mary's womb. He began to develop there, as her body naturally provided growth to his in the security of her uterus, as every mother's does for her preborn child. Likewise, when Christ is first spiritually conceived in us, he must grow before we are able to give spiritual birth. This is partly beyond our control and yet very much under it, as well, for while it is the Holy Spirit which gives growth to the presence of Christ within us, it is not so natural or automatic in us as the nurturing of the child within the womb. Rather, we must choose to participate in the process, allowing the Spirit to reveal to us those obstacles to Christ's growth within us. Thus St. Ambrose continues:
For every soul can receive the Word of God if only it is pure and preserves itself in chastity and modesty.
The soul that has been able to reach this state proclaims the greatness of the Lord just as Mary did and rejoices in God its savior just like her.
Of course, none of us reaches full purity of chastity and modesty in this life, but we embrace these, and humbly accept that God's desire for us is greater than the choices we might otherwise make for ourselves. Even in some cases as we make the only choice that appears possible to us knowing that it is counter to God's revealed will, in humility we ask God's forgiveness along the way and the Spirit's help in making a more trusting choice the next time. Just as Jesus did not reach full maturity within the womb of Mary, but continued to grow into his physical adulthood, so Jesus continues to grow in us after we have first allowed him to be born within us, as we continue to trust in him and come to know him more intimately through the time we spend in his presence.
(I'm torn here, a bit, between the translation at the Universalis site and that from my breviary. Apparently a different translation is used in Britain, or at least by Universalis Publishing. I have generally quoted my breviary in the past, but above I've used the online translation primarily due to ease of entry but also because of the severity of one passage: the previously quoted section began in my breviary, "Every soul receives the Word of God if only it keeps chaste, remaining pure and free from sin, its modesty undefiled." This is impossible except by the growth of Christ within the soul, which obviously requires the cooperation of each soul, but this wording seemed to present an inappropriate expectation of perfection in the believer. However, I prefer the clarity of the breviary's translation for the following passage, so that is the version I'm using here:)
In another place we read: Magnify the Lord with me. The Lord is magnified, not because the human voice can add anything to God but because he is magnified within us. Christ is the image of God, and if the soul does what is right and holy, it magnifies that image of God, in whose likeness it was created and, in magnifying the image of God, the soul has a share in its greatness and is exalted.
It probably bears reiteration that, while the individual soul's cooperation with this process is an essential prerequisite, the entire process is still God's grace at work, just as it was in Mary's life. The initial inspiration of the Holy Spirit is a gift of God to us. The first stirring and submission of our will to this initial inspiration is likewise God's gift of grace; though it requires our choice, the very free will to make that choice is also God's gift. The resulting desire of our hearts to please God is a gift of God; as is the thought processes and the humility that allow us to trust that God knows better than we do, and the strength and conviction to then act on that belief; and the resulting growth of Christ in us that allows him to be born into the world in and through us, while requiring our cooperation along the way, is still entirely the gift of God. This is a stumbling block for our prideful insistence on getting full credit for what we do, yet our insistence that it must be up to us is a huge obstacle to God's growth within us. It's opposite obstacle is when we just wait for God to do it all without engaging our own cooperation in the process. Between these two impassable mountains is a peaceful valley path that follows the stream of Living Water, where we find our sustenance and growth in the confident knowledge that this is all God's gift to us, and in this vale he is magnified within us.
Friday, December 20, 2013
For past and future reference
You have heard, O Virgin, that you will conceive and bear a son; you have heard that it will not be by man but by the Holy Spirit. The angel awaits an answer; it is time for him to return to God who sent him. We too are waiting, O Lady, for your word of compassion; the sentence of condemnation weighs heavily upon us.
The price of our salvation is offered to you. We shall be set free at once if you consent. In the eternal Word of God we all came to be, and behold, we die. In your brief response we are to be remade in order to be recalled to life.
Tearful Adam with his sorrowing family begs this of you, O loving Virgin, in their exile from Paradise. Abraham begs it, David begs it. All the other holy patriarchs, your ancestors, ask it of you, as they dwell in the country of the shadow of death. This is what the whole earth waits for, prostrate at your feet. It is right in doing so, for on your word depends comfort for the wretched, ransom for the captive, freedom for the condemned, indeed, salvation for all the sons of Adam, the whole of your race.
Answer quickly, O Virgin. Reply in haste to the angel, or rather through the angel to the Lord. Answer with a word, receive the Word of God. Speak your own word, conceive the divine Word. Breathe a passing word, embrace the eternal Word.
Why do you delay, why are you afraid? Believe, give praise, and receive. Let humility be bold, let modesty be confident. This is no time for virginal simplicity to forget prudence. In this matter alone, O prudent Virgin, do not fear to be presumptuous. Though modest silence is pleasing, dutiful speech is now more necessary. Open your heart to faith, O blessed Virgin, your lips to praise, your womb to the Creator. See, the desired of all nations is at your door, knocking to enter. If he should pass by because of your delay, in sorrow you would begin to seek him afresh, the One whom your soul loves. Arise, hasten, open. Arise in faith, hasten in devotion, open in praise and thanksgiving. Behold the handmaid of the Lord, she says, be it done to me according to your word. - from a sermon In Praise of the Virgin Mother by St. Bernard, abbot
I tried to hyperlink to this reading on the Universalis site before I realized that the date-referenced pages expire fairly quickly. I decided I needed a more durable copy to point to, especially as I'd be pointing to it again this morning.
I hope I never remember when this reading comes up, because every year it is a pleasant surprise to me to encounter it again. It is the slightest glimpse into what I imagine eternity in God will be like, entering into a moment - every moment at once, but in our finite earth-bound reality we can only consider a single moment in our thoughts at a time - and seeing that moment from one person's perspective, only again every perspective at once but we can now only consider one at a time. So as we see this moment from our perspective, pleading in our hearts with the mother of our Lord to grant her fiat, we will also see her own perspective in its completeness, with an even greater awareness than St. Bernard conveyed of the war raging inside of her between fear and trust, and we will see the angel's hope for all of us - including her - that she will assent. And I imagine that we will enter into every moment and every perspective of every person throughout all of history (which, come to think of it, is a terrifying concept for my puny mind that is striving for holiness when so many do not) but we will do so in the safety and with the overall knowledge of God that removes the threat from each dark heart and replaces it with love and tenderness and compassion and . . .
. . . and . . .
. . . that seems to be as close as I am able to experience and convey that thought at this moment. But no wonder St. John said that all of the books in all the world would not be able to contain all that can be said about Jesus!
The price of our salvation is offered to you. We shall be set free at once if you consent. In the eternal Word of God we all came to be, and behold, we die. In your brief response we are to be remade in order to be recalled to life.
Tearful Adam with his sorrowing family begs this of you, O loving Virgin, in their exile from Paradise. Abraham begs it, David begs it. All the other holy patriarchs, your ancestors, ask it of you, as they dwell in the country of the shadow of death. This is what the whole earth waits for, prostrate at your feet. It is right in doing so, for on your word depends comfort for the wretched, ransom for the captive, freedom for the condemned, indeed, salvation for all the sons of Adam, the whole of your race.
Answer quickly, O Virgin. Reply in haste to the angel, or rather through the angel to the Lord. Answer with a word, receive the Word of God. Speak your own word, conceive the divine Word. Breathe a passing word, embrace the eternal Word.
Why do you delay, why are you afraid? Believe, give praise, and receive. Let humility be bold, let modesty be confident. This is no time for virginal simplicity to forget prudence. In this matter alone, O prudent Virgin, do not fear to be presumptuous. Though modest silence is pleasing, dutiful speech is now more necessary. Open your heart to faith, O blessed Virgin, your lips to praise, your womb to the Creator. See, the desired of all nations is at your door, knocking to enter. If he should pass by because of your delay, in sorrow you would begin to seek him afresh, the One whom your soul loves. Arise, hasten, open. Arise in faith, hasten in devotion, open in praise and thanksgiving. Behold the handmaid of the Lord, she says, be it done to me according to your word. - from a sermon In Praise of the Virgin Mother by St. Bernard, abbot
I tried to hyperlink to this reading on the Universalis site before I realized that the date-referenced pages expire fairly quickly. I decided I needed a more durable copy to point to, especially as I'd be pointing to it again this morning.
I hope I never remember when this reading comes up, because every year it is a pleasant surprise to me to encounter it again. It is the slightest glimpse into what I imagine eternity in God will be like, entering into a moment - every moment at once, but in our finite earth-bound reality we can only consider a single moment in our thoughts at a time - and seeing that moment from one person's perspective, only again every perspective at once but we can now only consider one at a time. So as we see this moment from our perspective, pleading in our hearts with the mother of our Lord to grant her fiat, we will also see her own perspective in its completeness, with an even greater awareness than St. Bernard conveyed of the war raging inside of her between fear and trust, and we will see the angel's hope for all of us - including her - that she will assent. And I imagine that we will enter into every moment and every perspective of every person throughout all of history (which, come to think of it, is a terrifying concept for my puny mind that is striving for holiness when so many do not) but we will do so in the safety and with the overall knowledge of God that removes the threat from each dark heart and replaces it with love and tenderness and compassion and . . .
. . . and . . .
. . . that seems to be as close as I am able to experience and convey that thought at this moment. But no wonder St. John said that all of the books in all the world would not be able to contain all that can be said about Jesus!
Thursday, December 19, 2013
My sister
I have missed Karen more intensely today than in a very long time. I notice that my missing her is often more about me than about her, and that doesn't seem right; I want to get on my case about that. But then I remember that she is where I long to someday be, and then it seems right that my missing her is more about her absence.
I wish I had the time or energy to draw that out more, but I am going to make due with being thankful for having had her in my life, and asking, "Karen, please pray for me, and for someone else who is hurting more than I am. You know who."
I wish I had the time or energy to draw that out more, but I am going to make due with being thankful for having had her in my life, and asking, "Karen, please pray for me, and for someone else who is hurting more than I am. You know who."
Prayer thoughts
Thought 1:
In praying the second part of Psalm 89 (with the people of Israel) this morning, I can completely understand why one must believe in Jesus Christ in order to believe that the Bible is anything except mythology. If David's dynasty was supposed to be established forever, and if Jesus of Nazareth has not fulfilled that prophecy, this alone would be enough reason to reject the validity of scripture.
Thought 2:
If man, without being puffed up or boastful, has a right belief regarding created things and their divining Creator, who, having given them being, holds them all in his power, and if man perseveres in God's love and in obedience and gratitude to him, he will receive greater glory from him. It will be a glory which will grow ever brighter until he takes on the likeness of the one who died for him. - from a treatise Against Heresies by St. Irenaeus, bishop
Yes, God has a plan for our lives, and it is indeed wonderful. It is not, however, a plan without the cross along its way. But it is also not a plan with no one to help us carry it.
We would have love without pain, but the Princess Bride got this much right when the Man in Black said this: Love is pain, Princess. The fact is that the willingness to bear the pain that love brings in this fallen world is what distinguishes love from narcissism. And loving even with the pain it brings is a great gift which God gives us, who loves us and is pained beyond telling for our sake (why can't we understand that what God feels for our sake is more poignant than what we are able to feel for ourselves?) as we choose not to love in return.
In praying the second part of Psalm 89 (with the people of Israel) this morning, I can completely understand why one must believe in Jesus Christ in order to believe that the Bible is anything except mythology. If David's dynasty was supposed to be established forever, and if Jesus of Nazareth has not fulfilled that prophecy, this alone would be enough reason to reject the validity of scripture.
Thought 2:
If man, without being puffed up or boastful, has a right belief regarding created things and their divining Creator, who, having given them being, holds them all in his power, and if man perseveres in God's love and in obedience and gratitude to him, he will receive greater glory from him. It will be a glory which will grow ever brighter until he takes on the likeness of the one who died for him. - from a treatise Against Heresies by St. Irenaeus, bishop
Yes, God has a plan for our lives, and it is indeed wonderful. It is not, however, a plan without the cross along its way. But it is also not a plan with no one to help us carry it.
We would have love without pain, but the Princess Bride got this much right when the Man in Black said this: Love is pain, Princess. The fact is that the willingness to bear the pain that love brings in this fallen world is what distinguishes love from narcissism. And loving even with the pain it brings is a great gift which God gives us, who loves us and is pained beyond telling for our sake (why can't we understand that what God feels for our sake is more poignant than what we are able to feel for ourselves?) as we choose not to love in return.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
An expanded moment from prayer group:
I don't know how we even got on the topic last night; maybe it was just as we were thanking God for the blessings of the week which, for me, included our 33rd wedding anniversary. But I found myself giving thanks to God for the wonders he has worked in my relationship with my bride, in the context of the full arc (thus far) of our marriage. I shared the abbreviated version with the group, but here is a little more history, and I hope that my sharing it does not bring her any sense of embarrassment but rather underscores my love for her.
We were high school sweethearts. Now, I've known some high school couples who (seem to) have had a fairly mature and healthy relationship which developed into an eventual marriage and a stable life together. By no stretch of the imagination were we such a couple. When we entered into our marriage we were both insecure and immature and broken in very different ways. The roots of my brokenness can be found meandering all through this blog, probably mostly under the headings of Alcoholism, Childhood, Family, Sexual abuse and Suicide. My wife's childhood issues would probably appear less traumatic to an outsider, but I'm sure it was no easier for her to live through her torments.
Our relationship in high school was on-again-off-again, marked by emotional neediness and instability. We dated exclusively for the second half of our sophomore year, at the end of which I broke up with her at my mother's insistence that I not commit too closely when I had so little experience of relationships. From that point we resumed and broke off our relationship several times, each hurting the other by our misunderstanding of love and by living according to the world's influence. We split up completely after high school, and she subsequently bore a daughter (whom I would later adopt as my own). I was never able to find someone who wanted to date for very long. In hindsight, I wouldn't have wanted to date a stoner like me, either; it must have looked as if I had no future at all. I did have a couple of close female friends in college, and in both cases developed romantic feelings for them that in one instance were not reciprocated and in the other could not be acted upon. And since the majority of my sexual experiences were warped ones at the hands of an abuser (whatever good might be said about him, I must not allow my brain to reject this thought), dating someone as evidence of my heterosexuality was becoming a great need in my life. And then out of the blue came a misunderstood message from my best friend that my high school girlfriend wished I would get in touch with her. He'd really been trying to tell me about someone else, but I got the message wrong. I called her and we talked; she was dating someone, we wished each other a good life, end of story. Until they broke up a few weeks later. We got together one evening just to talk, started dating almost immediately, vowed to take things slow without having a very accurate understanding of what "slow" meant, and here we are today.
It is not from any current judgment that either of us made a poor choice that I reflect that, had we been emotionally healthy, we each might have made a very different choice of spouses. She might have waited for someone who appreciated her more at the time for who she really is; I might have sought someone with whom I shared more common interests. In this ideal world that doesn't exist, things might have been very different for us as a result.
We have never lived in such a world. Nor am I suggesting that things would have been better for us.
For in the world in which we do live, we reached out to one another in our respective brokenness, and gave ourselves to one another in the sacrament of matrimony, neither of us having the slightest inkling of anything like the concept of God having a plan for us with which we might or might not be aligning our own decision-making. If by happenstance we did so it was by our blind groping, not by our design, as we weren't giving God the slightest consideration. We were plunging forward, convinced that we were doing what we wanted and what was best for our already-growing family.
Yet God is not surprised by any choice we make, nor any pain we experience. He has seen all of our decisions and is now in his love for us making provision for those we will make tomorrow.
Along came: an Air Force career with both hard-earned successes and crushing setbacks beyond our control; infidelity of heart, mind and flesh; mistrust; judgment; financial irresponsibility; abuse; in short, all of the brokenness that two emotionally unhealthy people should expect to reap from building a life together while continually hoping that things might get better but without actually each working on their own deeply-buried issues. There was also spiritual conversion along the way, but not as yet the emotional healing that we both needed.
Had we actually taken the step of divorce - which we once chose during a brief time when we could not afford to carry it out - the world and indeed our very Church would examine a broken couple like us and determine that there were clearly such profound impediments to the spiritual consummation of our marriage that no marriage had actually occurred and that ours could be annulled. And yet God's plan for us was greater all along than our brokenness; indeed, God's plan was to use our respective brokenness to pour healing and love into each of our lives.
So today we are two individuals bound together as one flesh, a couple that is in love with each other in many ways similar to how God loves us, seeing our shortcomings and loving each other deeply despite them. We also know that there are many aspects of our relationship together that do not yet reflect the way God loves us, self-centered concerns and approaches to our life together that he is still in the ceaseless (in this life) process of converting to holy matrimony. And while our life and our love is not without conflict and frustration, I am grateful - and it is important that I be grateful - for this bride whom I love so much and am growing to love so well, and for the love which he pours into my life through her.
We were high school sweethearts. Now, I've known some high school couples who (seem to) have had a fairly mature and healthy relationship which developed into an eventual marriage and a stable life together. By no stretch of the imagination were we such a couple. When we entered into our marriage we were both insecure and immature and broken in very different ways. The roots of my brokenness can be found meandering all through this blog, probably mostly under the headings of Alcoholism, Childhood, Family, Sexual abuse and Suicide. My wife's childhood issues would probably appear less traumatic to an outsider, but I'm sure it was no easier for her to live through her torments.
Our relationship in high school was on-again-off-again, marked by emotional neediness and instability. We dated exclusively for the second half of our sophomore year, at the end of which I broke up with her at my mother's insistence that I not commit too closely when I had so little experience of relationships. From that point we resumed and broke off our relationship several times, each hurting the other by our misunderstanding of love and by living according to the world's influence. We split up completely after high school, and she subsequently bore a daughter (whom I would later adopt as my own). I was never able to find someone who wanted to date for very long. In hindsight, I wouldn't have wanted to date a stoner like me, either; it must have looked as if I had no future at all. I did have a couple of close female friends in college, and in both cases developed romantic feelings for them that in one instance were not reciprocated and in the other could not be acted upon. And since the majority of my sexual experiences were warped ones at the hands of an abuser (whatever good might be said about him, I must not allow my brain to reject this thought), dating someone as evidence of my heterosexuality was becoming a great need in my life. And then out of the blue came a misunderstood message from my best friend that my high school girlfriend wished I would get in touch with her. He'd really been trying to tell me about someone else, but I got the message wrong. I called her and we talked; she was dating someone, we wished each other a good life, end of story. Until they broke up a few weeks later. We got together one evening just to talk, started dating almost immediately, vowed to take things slow without having a very accurate understanding of what "slow" meant, and here we are today.
It is not from any current judgment that either of us made a poor choice that I reflect that, had we been emotionally healthy, we each might have made a very different choice of spouses. She might have waited for someone who appreciated her more at the time for who she really is; I might have sought someone with whom I shared more common interests. In this ideal world that doesn't exist, things might have been very different for us as a result.
We have never lived in such a world. Nor am I suggesting that things would have been better for us.
For in the world in which we do live, we reached out to one another in our respective brokenness, and gave ourselves to one another in the sacrament of matrimony, neither of us having the slightest inkling of anything like the concept of God having a plan for us with which we might or might not be aligning our own decision-making. If by happenstance we did so it was by our blind groping, not by our design, as we weren't giving God the slightest consideration. We were plunging forward, convinced that we were doing what we wanted and what was best for our already-growing family.
Yet God is not surprised by any choice we make, nor any pain we experience. He has seen all of our decisions and is now in his love for us making provision for those we will make tomorrow.
Along came: an Air Force career with both hard-earned successes and crushing setbacks beyond our control; infidelity of heart, mind and flesh; mistrust; judgment; financial irresponsibility; abuse; in short, all of the brokenness that two emotionally unhealthy people should expect to reap from building a life together while continually hoping that things might get better but without actually each working on their own deeply-buried issues. There was also spiritual conversion along the way, but not as yet the emotional healing that we both needed.
Had we actually taken the step of divorce - which we once chose during a brief time when we could not afford to carry it out - the world and indeed our very Church would examine a broken couple like us and determine that there were clearly such profound impediments to the spiritual consummation of our marriage that no marriage had actually occurred and that ours could be annulled. And yet God's plan for us was greater all along than our brokenness; indeed, God's plan was to use our respective brokenness to pour healing and love into each of our lives.
So today we are two individuals bound together as one flesh, a couple that is in love with each other in many ways similar to how God loves us, seeing our shortcomings and loving each other deeply despite them. We also know that there are many aspects of our relationship together that do not yet reflect the way God loves us, self-centered concerns and approaches to our life together that he is still in the ceaseless (in this life) process of converting to holy matrimony. And while our life and our love is not without conflict and frustration, I am grateful - and it is important that I be grateful - for this bride whom I love so much and am growing to love so well, and for the love which he pours into my life through her.
Today's words
After a stretch of disappointing words-of-the-day, I thought I'd hit the jackpot with today's Dictionary Devil puzzle, only to learn as I was working on it that I really already knew most of them, at least enough to recognize them enough to do the puzzle. The exceptions:
kokanee \koh KAN ee\ - a small landlocked sockeye salmon
kokanee \koh KAN ee\ - a small landlocked sockeye salmon
If I'd ever heard this, I had completely forgotten it.galop \GAL up, gal OH\ - a lively dance in duple measure; also : the music of a galop
I'm pretty sure I'd heard of this one, at least.The others, which all came back to me, were mangosteen, the original sense of pariah, pinchbeck and rowel.
Dark Advent mornings draw to their close
Hear me, O house of Jacob,
all who remain of the house of Israel,
my burden since your birth,
whom I have carried from your infancy.
Even to your old age I am the same,
even when your hair is gray I will bear you;
It is I who have done this, I who will continue,
and I who will carry you to safety. - Is 46: 3-4
He devised a plan, a great and wonderful plan, and shared it only with his Son. As long as he preserved this secrecy and kept his own wise counsel he seemed to be neglecting us, to have no concern for us. But when through his beloved Son he revealed and made public what he had prepared from the very beginning, he gave us all at once gifts such as we could never have dreamt of, even sight and knowledge of himself. - from a letter to Diognetus
It can be so hard for us to remember, as we strain under the burdens of life in this world, that God is bearing us up and has already blessed us with gifts far surpassing the difficulties we face. Again, our struggles and our pain are so real to us, so present, and God can seem so far away. And yet he is nearer than anything else, though we have great difficulty reminding ourselves of his presence in our lives. The times when we most feel as if we cannot take another step are the very times when he is carrying us to safety. The times when it seems to us that we are most alone and isolated are the very times when he is most ministering to us, tending our wounded hearts.
In a few days we will proclaim that the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light, and even as we utter these very words our own lives can feel very cold and dark, and the light can seem far from us. Lord, please let the brightness of your love illumine our lives and lift up our hearts, that we might proclaim with hearts full of joy that you are always with us!
all who remain of the house of Israel,
my burden since your birth,
whom I have carried from your infancy.
Even to your old age I am the same,
even when your hair is gray I will bear you;
It is I who have done this, I who will continue,
and I who will carry you to safety. - Is 46: 3-4
He devised a plan, a great and wonderful plan, and shared it only with his Son. As long as he preserved this secrecy and kept his own wise counsel he seemed to be neglecting us, to have no concern for us. But when through his beloved Son he revealed and made public what he had prepared from the very beginning, he gave us all at once gifts such as we could never have dreamt of, even sight and knowledge of himself. - from a letter to Diognetus
It can be so hard for us to remember, as we strain under the burdens of life in this world, that God is bearing us up and has already blessed us with gifts far surpassing the difficulties we face. Again, our struggles and our pain are so real to us, so present, and God can seem so far away. And yet he is nearer than anything else, though we have great difficulty reminding ourselves of his presence in our lives. The times when we most feel as if we cannot take another step are the very times when he is carrying us to safety. The times when it seems to us that we are most alone and isolated are the very times when he is most ministering to us, tending our wounded hearts.
In a few days we will proclaim that the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light, and even as we utter these very words our own lives can feel very cold and dark, and the light can seem far from us. Lord, please let the brightness of your love illumine our lives and lift up our hearts, that we might proclaim with hearts full of joy that you are always with us!
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Jealousy
You high mountains of Bashan,
you rugged mountains of Bashan,
You rugged mountains, why look with envy
at the mountain where God has chosen to dwell,
where the LORD resides forever? - Ps 68: 16-17
I get one sense of these verses as a boast and a comfort: other mountains may be higher, but Zion will have the Lord's dwelling forever. While addressed to Bashan, these verses' target audience might well be the inhabitants of Mount Zion.
In these latter days, of course, the Lord has made his dwelling with each of us, and so there is no need for any of us to have envy of another. What more could a mere human want than for the eternal creator of the universe to make his home within our mortal flesh? Why then do we continue to long instead for the gifts that belong to our brother or our sister rather than appreciating those which are rightly ours?
And yet in love our heart often aches for the presence of those gone from us. It is hard for us to know at the depth of our being that we are united with them always, that God will never allow us to truly be separated from one another. The unity of the Holy Spirit may seem a more ephemeral thing than the physical space and time which separate us, can seem more myth than the ever-present pain in our heart, and yet I hope we discover it to be the more real and eternal truth.
you rugged mountains of Bashan,
You rugged mountains, why look with envy
at the mountain where God has chosen to dwell,
where the LORD resides forever? - Ps 68: 16-17
I get one sense of these verses as a boast and a comfort: other mountains may be higher, but Zion will have the Lord's dwelling forever. While addressed to Bashan, these verses' target audience might well be the inhabitants of Mount Zion.
In these latter days, of course, the Lord has made his dwelling with each of us, and so there is no need for any of us to have envy of another. What more could a mere human want than for the eternal creator of the universe to make his home within our mortal flesh? Why then do we continue to long instead for the gifts that belong to our brother or our sister rather than appreciating those which are rightly ours?
And yet in love our heart often aches for the presence of those gone from us. It is hard for us to know at the depth of our being that we are united with them always, that God will never allow us to truly be separated from one another. The unity of the Holy Spirit may seem a more ephemeral thing than the physical space and time which separate us, can seem more myth than the ever-present pain in our heart, and yet I hope we discover it to be the more real and eternal truth.
Monday, December 16, 2013
Casting off rags to grab hold of love (edited)
When the Lord has given you the bread of suffering and the water of distress, he who is your teacher will hide no longer, and you will see your teacher with your own eyes. Whether you turn to right or left, your ears will hear these words behind you, ‘This is the way, follow it.’ You will regard your silvered idols and gilded images as unclean. You will throw them away like the polluted things they are, shouting after them, ‘Good riddance!’ - Is 30:20-22
. . . By loving us and holding us so dear, he stirred us to love him who had first loved us to the end.
And this is clearly the reason: you first loved us so that we might love you--not because you needed our love but because we could not be what you created us to be except by loving you. - from a discourse On the Contemplation of God, William of St. Thierry, abbot
Except on the great feast days, it is rare that I find the two passages from the Office of Readings to be so harmonious with each other. Often will both speak to me, but rarely do they convey related messages. But in this case the second reading strikes squarely upon the first.
Our modern silvered idols and gilded images are varied, and we rarely consider them aright to be anything that we ought to cast aside. Often we approach discussions of God's will in these areas of our lives as if what we want is of course what God wants for us, provided we even grant God the slightest dominion over such vast swaths of our lives as our careers, our entertainment, our social life, our finances, our possessions or our relationships. It is this haughty refusal to commit these arenas to God's authority that allows them to become strongholds of idolatry in our lives. God wants us to cast our entire lives into his care, and to throw away that which removes us from his will for us. One translation I encountered today renders the words "polluted things" as "menstrual rags," and while that may grant an undue degree of scorn to a natural biological process, it is worth noting how the more graphic latter image conveys how we ought to treat our idols, as well as their true value.
When we hear the words "The Lord is a jealous God," we insist on interpreting the words according to our standards of jealousy. God is jealous for our sake, not for his own. Lacking no thing, he is not lessened by our lack of worship, by our refusal to grant him dominion over us. We buy into the worldly notion that God wants to deprive us of fun - be it in the form of the latest gadgets, the nicest house, the pursuit of fun as an end in itself, the expression of our sexuality in the ways that we think are appropriate - and to demand obeisance from us. This idea that God tells us how to live only because God loves us and knows what is best for us seems not quite trustworthy to us. Maybe this is partly because we know that, sometimes at least, we direct our children's actions based on what will least interfere with our interests? God is not that sort of Father to us.
No, God directs us in the ways that lead us to become the sons and daughters that he dreams for us to be, and our resistance to God's direction, our clinging to those menstrual rags, keeps us bound up as a self that is so much less.
. . . By loving us and holding us so dear, he stirred us to love him who had first loved us to the end.
And this is clearly the reason: you first loved us so that we might love you--not because you needed our love but because we could not be what you created us to be except by loving you. - from a discourse On the Contemplation of God, William of St. Thierry, abbot
Except on the great feast days, it is rare that I find the two passages from the Office of Readings to be so harmonious with each other. Often will both speak to me, but rarely do they convey related messages. But in this case the second reading strikes squarely upon the first.
Our modern silvered idols and gilded images are varied, and we rarely consider them aright to be anything that we ought to cast aside. Often we approach discussions of God's will in these areas of our lives as if what we want is of course what God wants for us, provided we even grant God the slightest dominion over such vast swaths of our lives as our careers, our entertainment, our social life, our finances, our possessions or our relationships. It is this haughty refusal to commit these arenas to God's authority that allows them to become strongholds of idolatry in our lives. God wants us to cast our entire lives into his care, and to throw away that which removes us from his will for us. One translation I encountered today renders the words "polluted things" as "menstrual rags," and while that may grant an undue degree of scorn to a natural biological process, it is worth noting how the more graphic latter image conveys how we ought to treat our idols, as well as their true value.
When we hear the words "The Lord is a jealous God," we insist on interpreting the words according to our standards of jealousy. God is jealous for our sake, not for his own. Lacking no thing, he is not lessened by our lack of worship, by our refusal to grant him dominion over us. We buy into the worldly notion that God wants to deprive us of fun - be it in the form of the latest gadgets, the nicest house, the pursuit of fun as an end in itself, the expression of our sexuality in the ways that we think are appropriate - and to demand obeisance from us. This idea that God tells us how to live only because God loves us and knows what is best for us seems not quite trustworthy to us. Maybe this is partly because we know that, sometimes at least, we direct our children's actions based on what will least interfere with our interests? God is not that sort of Father to us.
No, God directs us in the ways that lead us to become the sons and daughters that he dreams for us to be, and our resistance to God's direction, our clinging to those menstrual rags, keeps us bound up as a self that is so much less.
Sunday, December 15, 2013
A voice with a mind of its own
I still love the second reading from the Office of Readings for Gaudete Sunday.
What if, when we opened our mouth to convey our word, our voice refused to speak? We find it so very frustrating, on those occasions when we become ill, to be unable to convey our thoughts.
What if our voice instead spoke something very different from what we intended, if when we attempted to give voice to the word of our love for another our voice instead spoke out contempt or hatred? Would we not clamp shut our lips and refuse to give any utterance at all?
It occurs to me again how unknowably humble and patient God is with us!
What if, when we opened our mouth to convey our word, our voice refused to speak? We find it so very frustrating, on those occasions when we become ill, to be unable to convey our thoughts.
What if our voice instead spoke something very different from what we intended, if when we attempted to give voice to the word of our love for another our voice instead spoke out contempt or hatred? Would we not clamp shut our lips and refuse to give any utterance at all?
It occurs to me again how unknowably humble and patient God is with us!
Saturday, December 14, 2013
Today's Advent reflection
I remember the reading I looked at this morning from St. Isaac of Stella for its clear parallelism regarding how so many things should be applied to the Church in a general sense, applied to Mary in a unique sense, and applied to each Christian in an individual sense.
Of course, I should have been looking at the reading from St. John of the Cross, whose feast day it is. Today's reflection deals with the essential role that suffering plays in helping us to enter into the thicket of wisdom and riches.
Good stuff! Of the two, I'm afraid I'm finding more encouragement in San Juan de la Cruz today.
Of course, I should have been looking at the reading from St. John of the Cross, whose feast day it is. Today's reflection deals with the essential role that suffering plays in helping us to enter into the thicket of wisdom and riches.
Good stuff! Of the two, I'm afraid I'm finding more encouragement in San Juan de la Cruz today.
Friday, December 13, 2013
Mary and Eve
So when I finished with an abbreviated version of the Office of Readings this morning, in the interest of time I figured I'd wait until later to draw out a quote or two that struck me from the online version. But when I looked online I saw that they of course have the second reading from the memorial of St. Lucy rather than from Friday of the second week of Advent.
I've heard many compare and contrasts between these two women who have played such pivotal roles in history. But there was one contrast I don't think I've ever noticed before: just as sin entered the world when Eve accepted the lie of a fallen angel, so the Savior entered the world when Mary accepted the truth of a holy one.
If Christianity is a fabrication, it is a better one than I think we are capable of.
I've heard many compare and contrasts between these two women who have played such pivotal roles in history. But there was one contrast I don't think I've ever noticed before: just as sin entered the world when Eve accepted the lie of a fallen angel, so the Savior entered the world when Mary accepted the truth of a holy one.
If Christianity is a fabrication, it is a better one than I think we are capable of.
stop it, brain
that's twisted, albeit in an only mildly distressing and almost normal way. but put the comparative identity aside right now, and just be who you are.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Today's words
gustatory \GUSS-tuh-tor-ee\ - relating to or associated with eating or the sense of taste
Hmm. I guess I've always associate this more generally with eating, not specifically with taste. Now that I think about it, I've probably applied the contexts in which I have seen it have this word a little too broadly.degustation \'dee-'guss-TAY-shun\ - the action or an instance of tasting especially in a series of small portions
A completely unfamiliar (to me) word despite its close relationship to today's more familiar WOTD. Now knowing gustatory's meaning more accurately, I'd have probably guessed fairly close to this one's meaning, but would have definitely missed its "small portions" aspect.
Today's memorial
Today is the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, patroness of the Americas, a national holy day in Mexico and observed among many Hispanic communities in the U.S. as well. We've had Evensong on this feast day in our parish in the past, and I believe it is good for American Catholics to invoke her intercession on a regular basis.
Fortunately my breviary is old enough to reflect that it is also the memorial day of St. Jane Frances de Chantal, wife and mother of six sons who then entered religious life after her husband's passing, founding the Visitation order, which focused on caring for the sick and poor. She and St. Francis de Sales, who I suppose was her spiritual guide, wrote wonderful letters to each other which attest to the depth of their faith and their friendship.
I attended St. Jane Frances grade school and parish in Pasadena, MD.
Fortunately my breviary is old enough to reflect that it is also the memorial day of St. Jane Frances de Chantal, wife and mother of six sons who then entered religious life after her husband's passing, founding the Visitation order, which focused on caring for the sick and poor. She and St. Francis de Sales, who I suppose was her spiritual guide, wrote wonderful letters to each other which attest to the depth of their faith and their friendship.
I attended St. Jane Frances grade school and parish in Pasadena, MD.
How we win
A quick thought from the psalms of today's Office of Readings:
For it was not in my bow that I trusted,
nor yet was I saved by my sword:
it was you who saved us from our foes. Ps 44: 6-7a
As I struggle over and over against the same kinds of sin and weakness, the only thing that ever helps me is to quit grappling with it in my mind, to just give it over to God and be done with it. When that thought arises again, when I peacefully remind myself that I have given this to him and thank him and set it aside, I am saved from that enemy that would otherwise remove me from God's presence. Then:
All day long our boast was in god
and we praised your name without ceasing. Ps 44: 8
And yet we must at some point choose for ourselves to walk in the victory that God has won for us. Otherwise we will find ourselves wondering why we have no strength or victory over this area of our lives. It may seem as if God has abandoned us. (vs 10-23) We may find ourselves pleading in our misery. (vs 24-27)
The psalms are wonderful, and Jesus prayed them daily. But they are fulfilled in him. Even when we stumble again and again, he was won the final victory for us, and the more closely we walk with him the more we will see that victory manifest in our lives along the way.
(Okay, maybe not so quick after all: the further into that Psalm I prayed, the more I thought, "Oh, that isn't all!")
For it was not in my bow that I trusted,
nor yet was I saved by my sword:
it was you who saved us from our foes. Ps 44: 6-7a
As I struggle over and over against the same kinds of sin and weakness, the only thing that ever helps me is to quit grappling with it in my mind, to just give it over to God and be done with it. When that thought arises again, when I peacefully remind myself that I have given this to him and thank him and set it aside, I am saved from that enemy that would otherwise remove me from God's presence. Then:
All day long our boast was in god
and we praised your name without ceasing. Ps 44: 8
And yet we must at some point choose for ourselves to walk in the victory that God has won for us. Otherwise we will find ourselves wondering why we have no strength or victory over this area of our lives. It may seem as if God has abandoned us. (vs 10-23) We may find ourselves pleading in our misery. (vs 24-27)
The psalms are wonderful, and Jesus prayed them daily. But they are fulfilled in him. Even when we stumble again and again, he was won the final victory for us, and the more closely we walk with him the more we will see that victory manifest in our lives along the way.
(Okay, maybe not so quick after all: the further into that Psalm I prayed, the more I thought, "Oh, that isn't all!")
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
No Advent post this morning . . .
. . . but that's okay. I spent the time praying instead of writing. The St. Augustine reading was worth spending some more time unpacking, but first things first. I'm pretty tired tonight, so we'll see whether there ends up being any time for writing tomorrow . . .
Today's word
nimiety \nih-MYE-uh-tee\ - excess, redundancy
I suspect I'm going to have to count on context if I ever encounter this WOTD again. For some reason it seems as if it should mean something completely different, but then again, so do plethora and surfeit. I like this word, though.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Sometimes I spout nonsense
I hope the reader might protest on my behalf, "Not usually!" In fact, I'd hope nonsense forms only a small piece of even any individual piece that I post, except in those rare moments when I'm aiming for silliness. But sometimes when I look at something I've shared with someone a phrase will jump out at me that makes me shake my head and say, "Whoa, that wasn't right."
The most recent was this morning when a friend of my wife's parents was lamenting that the weather and road conditions kept her from a ministry that she holds dear. In fact, I agree that it is a vital service to families who are facing very difficult times. What I told her was mostly true, and the part that was wrong doesn't really detract from the message of encouragement that I was trying to convey. What I said, in part, was, " . . . for it is God who brings comfort. Usually he does it directly through you; today he will find another way."
So what's wrong with that? Only that it implies that God makes his arrangements in response to our decisions rather than knowing them already. It isn't that God will find another way, but that God has already made another way, knowing the circumstances of this day. Furthermore, that "other way" is generally better for all concerned today than what we might have thought the plan to be.
(Okay, so "nonsense" might be a little harsh . . . )
So what's wrong with that? Only that it implies that God makes his arrangements in response to our decisions rather than knowing them already. It isn't that God will find another way, but that God has already made another way, knowing the circumstances of this day. Furthermore, that "other way" is generally better for all concerned today than what we might have thought the plan to be.
(Okay, so "nonsense" might be a little harsh . . . )
So why am I here?
Yeah, yeah, I know: it's the central question of humankind's existential search for meaning. And I know the Baltimore Catechism answer (question 6), and embrace it. It packs a lot of truth into a few words - words that are worth taking some time to unpack more fully, actually. Other writers have done so, including Matthew Kelly, who uses it as a launching point in his excellent "essential purpose" discussions. That's not what I had in mind when I started this post, but now that I've started writing, I imagine it's going to turn out to be exactly where God is taking me with it. The title is a reflection on my response to today's Office of Readings. But let's start with a lengthy detour:
The Liturgy of the Hours is a treasure of the Church, opportunities to pray throughout the course of the day that set up a rhythm of prayer for our lives. With that hearty endorsement out of the way, I must confess that the only part of the Hours I have ever managed to pray with any regularity at all is the Office of Readings. I fell in love with this "hour" when I first visited the Abbey of Gethsemani, where they pray it under its ancient name of Vigils at 3:15 a.m. I found it was a treasure worth setting the alarm for, though I never could convince most of my fellow retreatants to join me, either then or on subsequent weekends. When praying it on my own, I just start my day with it rather than getting up in the middle of the night. In fact, the recommendation for the Office of Readings is that it should be prayed whenever the course of one's day allows sufficient time to soak in it, rather than at a specified time each day. But the thing that is most different about this hour compared to the more familiar Morning and Evening Prayer is that in addition to the Psalms, which are a part of each hour, there are two rather lengthy readings. The first is a scriptural reading, and throughout the Advent season it seems that it is mainly taken from the book of the prophet Isaiah. These largely deal with God's promise to care for Israel and to nurture his people and provide a Savior, and the people's longing for that promise to be fulfilled. This is one reason I find this hour so particularly wonderful during Advent, and there tends to be a similarly appropriate thematic focus during Lent, too. This reading is way longer than the short readings used during Morning and Evening Prayer, and is generally longer even than we typically get at Mass, except maybe for the gospels during the last weeks of Lent.
But the part of the Office of Readings that I love the best is the second reading each day. This is an extra-canonical reading of similar length from some source outside of scripture. Frequently it is taken from a sermon or letter by one of the early church fathers, a thematically-related section from an encyclical, or a writing from one of the Doctors of the Church. These readings often give lie to the idea that because we have advanced so greatly in the realms of technology and science we have also grown wiser. Indeed, the least insightful and nourishing of these readings tend to be the ones from the past century, though I find that these also contain great truth, even when they are a reiteration of things I already know. I have a tendency, though, after one of these more modern readings or even one of the older ones that is mostly a series of brief expansions on some of the phrases within a famous scripture passage, to feel a little unfulfilled and even disappointed.
Such was the case this morning (he observes, as he finally starts coming back around to the point!) with a reading from Second Vatican Council documents. Even as I nodded my head in agreement with what it was saying, I felt as if the Church had somehow let me down a little by not giving me better material to reflect on this morning. Fortunately, this self-absorbed initial response soon yielded - by the Holy Spirit, I can only surmise - to a stock-taking of what this daily prayer time is really all about. For the purpose of such prayer time is not primarily to make us feel as if we have been touched by divinely inspired insight, nor to expand our mind with a deeper understanding of God. I mean, in the eternal scheme of things, no matter how much we learn about God in this life, the ratio of what we don't know about God to what we do know doesn't change (the infinite divided by any finite x is still infinite). We should, of course, strive to know God, but that is ultimately not a head knowledge but a relationship knowledge - to know in the truly biblical sense, in the same intimate way (only, obviously, not as completely) as God knows us - and that is why I am here in the morning: to simply spend some time in the presence of the One who loves me perfectly. As a result I become more equipped to recognize him when I encounter him through the course of the day, to bear his love into others' lives.
So I am not here in the light of this wreath to wonder anew at a fresh piece of insight, but to have my whole life illumined by God, to simply begin the day in God's presence, to breathe in the Breath of Heaven, to allow God to draw me more fully into eternal Love, for God is Love. This reality is independent of - and far more important than - whether I feel as if the process has taken place because some inspired piece of brilliance has impressed me.
The Liturgy of the Hours is a treasure of the Church, opportunities to pray throughout the course of the day that set up a rhythm of prayer for our lives. With that hearty endorsement out of the way, I must confess that the only part of the Hours I have ever managed to pray with any regularity at all is the Office of Readings. I fell in love with this "hour" when I first visited the Abbey of Gethsemani, where they pray it under its ancient name of Vigils at 3:15 a.m. I found it was a treasure worth setting the alarm for, though I never could convince most of my fellow retreatants to join me, either then or on subsequent weekends. When praying it on my own, I just start my day with it rather than getting up in the middle of the night. In fact, the recommendation for the Office of Readings is that it should be prayed whenever the course of one's day allows sufficient time to soak in it, rather than at a specified time each day. But the thing that is most different about this hour compared to the more familiar Morning and Evening Prayer is that in addition to the Psalms, which are a part of each hour, there are two rather lengthy readings. The first is a scriptural reading, and throughout the Advent season it seems that it is mainly taken from the book of the prophet Isaiah. These largely deal with God's promise to care for Israel and to nurture his people and provide a Savior, and the people's longing for that promise to be fulfilled. This is one reason I find this hour so particularly wonderful during Advent, and there tends to be a similarly appropriate thematic focus during Lent, too. This reading is way longer than the short readings used during Morning and Evening Prayer, and is generally longer even than we typically get at Mass, except maybe for the gospels during the last weeks of Lent.
But the part of the Office of Readings that I love the best is the second reading each day. This is an extra-canonical reading of similar length from some source outside of scripture. Frequently it is taken from a sermon or letter by one of the early church fathers, a thematically-related section from an encyclical, or a writing from one of the Doctors of the Church. These readings often give lie to the idea that because we have advanced so greatly in the realms of technology and science we have also grown wiser. Indeed, the least insightful and nourishing of these readings tend to be the ones from the past century, though I find that these also contain great truth, even when they are a reiteration of things I already know. I have a tendency, though, after one of these more modern readings or even one of the older ones that is mostly a series of brief expansions on some of the phrases within a famous scripture passage, to feel a little unfulfilled and even disappointed.
Such was the case this morning (he observes, as he finally starts coming back around to the point!) with a reading from Second Vatican Council documents. Even as I nodded my head in agreement with what it was saying, I felt as if the Church had somehow let me down a little by not giving me better material to reflect on this morning. Fortunately, this self-absorbed initial response soon yielded - by the Holy Spirit, I can only surmise - to a stock-taking of what this daily prayer time is really all about. For the purpose of such prayer time is not primarily to make us feel as if we have been touched by divinely inspired insight, nor to expand our mind with a deeper understanding of God. I mean, in the eternal scheme of things, no matter how much we learn about God in this life, the ratio of what we don't know about God to what we do know doesn't change (the infinite divided by any finite x is still infinite). We should, of course, strive to know God, but that is ultimately not a head knowledge but a relationship knowledge - to know in the truly biblical sense, in the same intimate way (only, obviously, not as completely) as God knows us - and that is why I am here in the morning: to simply spend some time in the presence of the One who loves me perfectly. As a result I become more equipped to recognize him when I encounter him through the course of the day, to bear his love into others' lives.
So I am not here in the light of this wreath to wonder anew at a fresh piece of insight, but to have my whole life illumined by God, to simply begin the day in God's presence, to breathe in the Breath of Heaven, to allow God to draw me more fully into eternal Love, for God is Love. This reality is independent of - and far more important than - whether I feel as if the process has taken place because some inspired piece of brilliance has impressed me.
Monday, December 09, 2013
Advent challenges
I was praying by the light of the wreath this morning, observing the transferred feast (moved because the second Sunday of Advent took precedence) of Mary's Immaculate Conception by the grace of her Son. We too often get hung up on the time constraints of this article of faith as we perceive them and as God is not bound by them. I was taking encouragement from today's psalms and readings as I soaked in them. Then, in the middle of the the second passage in the Office of Readings, from St. Anselm, there arose my nemeses again:
My skepticism and the limits of my imagination. I suppose the two are one.
When studying theater and film, we discuss the willing suspension of disbelief. There are some stories in which we share that do not require it at all, beyond believing that anything outside of our self is real, for they are so rooted in this world that confirms itself to us day in and day out. Other stories we know cannot be real but they are fun for us to pretend that they could be, so we set aside our qualms for the purpose of our play.
This idea that the Creator of the universe has entered it in the form of one of us lies unreachably beyond us. How could it be?
We reject it because it is impossible to fathom the depths of love without limit, so strong that it refuses to force itself on us, in the hands of One who then uses his limitless power to invite us into himself by doing the most intrusive thing possible that still respects the integrity of our will.
God wants us to allow him to give us a priceless gift: not for us to suspend our disbelief, but to hand it over to him that he might transcend it and transform it as we yield it to him in honest humility. "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!" If we will just acknowledge our limits and give them over to him, we consent to allow him to bring his gift to the world into focus for us, however briefly, in this moment. For we can only enter into one moment, and as we do we find, as Mary did, that the one moment of humble faith and trust leads us to the next one. And the more deeply and consistently that we humbly set aside the limits of our own mind to accept that God is greater than our limited minds can grasp - that all things are indeed possible with him, even those we cannot conceive (to borrow from the word of the day), even the honoring of our flawed will - the more our lives are transformed in him.
There is much more to be said, but I must be about this day in him. May the gift of faith be yours today, and mine.
My skepticism and the limits of my imagination. I suppose the two are one.
When studying theater and film, we discuss the willing suspension of disbelief. There are some stories in which we share that do not require it at all, beyond believing that anything outside of our self is real, for they are so rooted in this world that confirms itself to us day in and day out. Other stories we know cannot be real but they are fun for us to pretend that they could be, so we set aside our qualms for the purpose of our play.
This idea that the Creator of the universe has entered it in the form of one of us lies unreachably beyond us. How could it be?
We reject it because it is impossible to fathom the depths of love without limit, so strong that it refuses to force itself on us, in the hands of One who then uses his limitless power to invite us into himself by doing the most intrusive thing possible that still respects the integrity of our will.
God wants us to allow him to give us a priceless gift: not for us to suspend our disbelief, but to hand it over to him that he might transcend it and transform it as we yield it to him in honest humility. "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!" If we will just acknowledge our limits and give them over to him, we consent to allow him to bring his gift to the world into focus for us, however briefly, in this moment. For we can only enter into one moment, and as we do we find, as Mary did, that the one moment of humble faith and trust leads us to the next one. And the more deeply and consistently that we humbly set aside the limits of our own mind to accept that God is greater than our limited minds can grasp - that all things are indeed possible with him, even those we cannot conceive (to borrow from the word of the day), even the honoring of our flawed will - the more our lives are transformed in him.
There is much more to be said, but I must be about this day in him. May the gift of faith be yours today, and mine.
Sunday, December 08, 2013
Voices in the wilderness
The prophecy meant that God was to come to a deserted place, inaccessible from the beginning - Eusebius of Caesarea, bishop, a commentary on Isaiah
Oh, like my heart, you mean?
No, I'm not being hard on myself with that inquiry. Each one of us is, at times, a deserted place in need of hearing the Good News that the kingdom of God is at hand. At other times we each to be the voice crying out in the wilderness, bringing the message of hope to those who have been bereft of it.
And both when we are brought the message and when we bear it to others, we are blessed by the Word of Life.
Sometimes I feel like a tired old man who has nothing to offer a world that is passing me by. Yet still I will cry out to those in the deserted place that God is with us.
Oh, like my heart, you mean?
No, I'm not being hard on myself with that inquiry. Each one of us is, at times, a deserted place in need of hearing the Good News that the kingdom of God is at hand. At other times we each to be the voice crying out in the wilderness, bringing the message of hope to those who have been bereft of it.
And both when we are brought the message and when we bear it to others, we are blessed by the Word of Life.
Sometimes I feel like a tired old man who has nothing to offer a world that is passing me by. Yet still I will cry out to those in the deserted place that God is with us.
Saturday, December 07, 2013
Okay, talk about *slow*
I wasn't able to think so much about this last year as our wonderful first trip to Hawaii loomed, with the celebration of our anniversary at the luau and the preparations for Christmas surrounding it, but the progression of December has begun again.
In thinking about it this morning after wishing my cousin a happy birthday, something just occurred to me that I have somehow never noticed before. It has taken me 33 years to realize that my wife and I were married on my parents' anniversary. How could I have never noticed that?
Seriously.
How is it that I have never noticed that??
In thinking about it this morning after wishing my cousin a happy birthday, something just occurred to me that I have somehow never noticed before. It has taken me 33 years to realize that my wife and I were married on my parents' anniversary. How could I have never noticed that?
Seriously.
How is it that I have never noticed that??
Friday, December 06, 2013
A minor disappointment yields a minor surprise
I hate it (okay, that's way too strong a verb) when the excitement of an unfamiliar WOTD immediately yields to the realization that there is no way I could have encountered this new word without recognizing its meaning, as was the case with today's word. At least there's an interesting nugget at the end of the write-up: I would not have expected the noun hibernaculum to predate the verb that takes place in one.
25,000 hits
I tend to believe the majority of them aren't real, but still, that's a lot of page views.
Thursday, December 05, 2013
This morning
This morning, while my wife's alarm was not going off as we expected, my unconcious cerebral synaptic activity had me preparing to play cello in a string quartet. One of my fellow instrumentalist's loose bow strings was getting in my face, which was greatly distracting me from the task at hand; I suspect this dream image was prompted by the physical reality of getting too close to my wife's hair.
When my pre-alarm went off, she got up quickly before I heard it, and to her credit managed to panic without disturbing me. But when I saw that it was my alarm, I was immediately aware that I hadn't heard hers, nor any of her usual activity - closing the bedroom door so as not to disturb me, letting the dog into our room after his first outdoor break of the morning, kissing me before she left - which should have all happened before my alarm activated this morning. Not sure what had happened, though we solved that mystery soon enough, I got moving and quickly got her breakfast and lunch put into her bag. Then I started her car so that she could make as quick an exit as possible. It turned out that the car starting wasn't necessary as the cold weather hadn't moved in yet, but I was glad to do what I could to help her out.
I was blessed to follow up that flurry of activity with some nice prayer by the light of the Advent wreath. I didn't manage to fully quiet my mind for it, but was way less rushed and active than I have been of late in my prayer time, and did manage to completely put off the completely banal things that I have been too quick to chase after in the morning.
Many things to pray for: friends in mourning, friends in need of physical healing, family stuff from several quarters and in wide variety, friends in difficult circumstances or facing challenges to their peace of mind. These all I lay before you, Lord, and entrust to your care.
When my pre-alarm went off, she got up quickly before I heard it, and to her credit managed to panic without disturbing me. But when I saw that it was my alarm, I was immediately aware that I hadn't heard hers, nor any of her usual activity - closing the bedroom door so as not to disturb me, letting the dog into our room after his first outdoor break of the morning, kissing me before she left - which should have all happened before my alarm activated this morning. Not sure what had happened, though we solved that mystery soon enough, I got moving and quickly got her breakfast and lunch put into her bag. Then I started her car so that she could make as quick an exit as possible. It turned out that the car starting wasn't necessary as the cold weather hadn't moved in yet, but I was glad to do what I could to help her out.
I was blessed to follow up that flurry of activity with some nice prayer by the light of the Advent wreath. I didn't manage to fully quiet my mind for it, but was way less rushed and active than I have been of late in my prayer time, and did manage to completely put off the completely banal things that I have been too quick to chase after in the morning.
Many things to pray for: friends in mourning, friends in need of physical healing, family stuff from several quarters and in wide variety, friends in difficult circumstances or facing challenges to their peace of mind. These all I lay before you, Lord, and entrust to your care.
Palpable, again
It is true that we can draw on the hurts we've experienced to bring the comfort of companionship to those in our lives who later bear similar losses.
It is also true that we are of no good to them unless we are willing to feel that pain again with them.
It is also true that we are of no good to them unless we are willing to feel that pain again with them.
Today's words
diatessaron \'dye-uh-TESS-uh-ron\ - 1. a musical interval encompassing four staff positions spanning five semitones; a perfect fourth 2. cap : a gospel harmony created in the second century by Tatian
I've encountered an attribution to this second definition before; it's about time I looked it up! The first was an added bonus. (Also, sometimes I have to cobble together concise definitions - or, in some cases, pronunciations - from the resources I find; if I make any errors in the effort, they are mine and not the fault of my sources, and I apologize for leading the reader astray.)cavil \KAV-uhl\ - to complain about things that are not important
Sometimes a very common WOTD takes me to a word I've never heard before.
An awakening
Keep watch; when the body is asleep nature takes control of us, and what is done is not done by our will but by force, by the impulse of nature. When deep listlessness takes possession of the soul - for example, faintheartedness or melancholy - the enemy overpowers it and makes it do what it does not will. The force of nature, the enemy of the soul, is in control. - St. Ephraem, deacon, from a commentary on the Diatessaron
Also: Isaiah 5, 1-7
Also: Keep God's word in this way. Let it enter into your very being, let it take possession of your desires and your whole way of life. Feed on goodness, and your soul will delight in its richness. Remember to eat your bread, or your heart will wither away. Fill your soul with richness and strength. - St. Bernard, abbot, from a sermon
It occurs to me that I allow many things to substitute for irreplaceable time in God's presence, including some good things like expounding on how what I read applies to my life or interceding for those who are struggling. Both of these examples are important things to do, but must be rooted in quiet time in God's presence lest they become deceptive means of spiritual starvation. It is even possible to read God's word without allowing it to enter into one's being, which takes time and precious silence.
Be still, my soul.
Also: Isaiah 5, 1-7
Also: Keep God's word in this way. Let it enter into your very being, let it take possession of your desires and your whole way of life. Feed on goodness, and your soul will delight in its richness. Remember to eat your bread, or your heart will wither away. Fill your soul with richness and strength. - St. Bernard, abbot, from a sermon
It occurs to me that I allow many things to substitute for irreplaceable time in God's presence, including some good things like expounding on how what I read applies to my life or interceding for those who are struggling. Both of these examples are important things to do, but must be rooted in quiet time in God's presence lest they become deceptive means of spiritual starvation. It is even possible to read God's word without allowing it to enter into one's being, which takes time and precious silence.
Be still, my soul.
Wednesday, December 04, 2013
A new liturgical year
I know I've written about it before, but I love how pre-dawn prayer by the light of the Advent wreath calls me back into God's presence on a regular basis and serves as a sacramental metaphor for my life. (One of these years I will doubtless carry some prayer momentum forward from it.)
Family bookends
This morning, as I shared the two of these with a friend who is struggling, is the first time I have ever noticed how similar in meter this poem is to this song written over a decade before. It's almost as if what I wrote as part of my mom's eulogy is a continuation of the song I wrote following my sister's death. Thematically they are, of course, very different, and I've never even considered setting the more recent of the two to music.
Maybe I could write an ode to my adoptive father, as well, and make it a complete set (er, suite)? I suppose that, if God gives me one in my sleep, I will probably get up and write it down here, at least.
Maybe I could write an ode to my adoptive father, as well, and make it a complete set (er, suite)? I suppose that, if God gives me one in my sleep, I will probably get up and write it down here, at least.
Today's word
benefic \buh-NEF-ik\ - producing good or helpful results or effects : beneficial
I knew this word right away, but am including it here because it is somewhat obscure and because I had the pronunciation wrong.
Apropos reading
How odd that this should be the first reading at the mass being offered for my friend's grandmother, when I was also praying for another friend who is struggling with the passing of a loved one at a young age:
On this mountain the LORD of hosts
will provide for all peoples
A feast of rich food and choice wines,
juicy, rich food and pure, choice wines.
On this mountain he will destroy
the veil that veils all peoples,
The web that is woven over all nations;
he will destroy death forever.
The Lord GOD will wipe away
the tears from all faces;
The reproach of his people he will remove
from the whole earth; for the LORD has spoken.
On that day it will be said:
“Behold our God, to whom we looked to save us!
This is the LORD for whom we looked;
let us rejoice and be glad that he has saved us!”
For the hand of the LORD will rest on this mountain. - Is 25, 6-10a
Tuesday, December 03, 2013
Today's word
lacuna \luh-KOO-nuh\ - 1. a blank space or a missing part : gap; also : deficiency, inadequacy 2. a small cavity, pit, or discontinuity in an anatomical structure
So, would "lacuna matata" mean a worry gap?
Monday, December 02, 2013
Today's words
foison \FOY-zun\ - 1. archaic : rich harvest 2. chiefly Scottish : physical energy or strength 3. plural, obsolete : resources
An archaic, a Scottish, and an obsolete definition. Good thing it's an interesting word, and one of its example sentences led to another one:wain \WAYN\ - 1. a usually large and heavy vehicle for farm use <a hay wain> 2. capitalized [short for Charles's Wain] : Big Dipper
Didn't know this one, either, and had definitely never heard this expression for this constellation. Other interesting history here on ancient references to just these seven stars as the Bear, which we now apply to a larger constellation . . .
Sunday, December 01, 2013
Food for the weekend
Okay, I'm griping a little here, so if you're not up for that, go away.
As we were eating my soup at my wife's cousin's house on Friday, I turned to her and asked, in all earnestness, "May I please be finished cooking for the weekend?" I like to cook, but I've had a full slate of it this week, so after missing out on watching The Hobbit, An Unexpected Journey while I picked turkey bones out of the meat (or vice versa), I was ready to be done. She agreed that would be fair.
Fast forward to Saturday evening at home. Around 3:30 I went out for a short bike ride after the Big Game, then started watching the Iron Bowl because there wasn't anything else going on. I've really watched very little college football - and only a few pro games, too - this year, so I didn't feel too badly about indulging in another game. A while later, maybe close to 6, my wife said she was going next door for a minute, which I mistook for "going to the store," and asked her what she was getting, thinking she'd decided on something to cook. She repeated herself for my clarification, left for next door, and came back without my noticing. When I started feeling really hungry, about 7:45, I went upstairs to check on what our dinner plans were. Seeing that she was in the bathroom, I knocked on the door and started to open it, at which point she yelled and I realized she was trimming up the dog a bit more; I knew he was going to need a little finishing up following my start of the job earlier in the week, but in my opinion the timing wasn't so great.
So I went into the kitchen and got myself a bowl of leftover soup and sliced a piece of bread, since it was apparent that although I wasn't having to cook, neither was she going to. I was pretty irritated, actually. A while later, maybe after I'd gone crazy at the incredible Auburn touchdown at the end of the game, she came down and explained that she hadn't been yelling at me, but had dropped the clippers when I started to open the door and just hollered in reaction.
And it seems that she had gotten herself a "snack" and had been in the middle of eating it when she noticed that it was 5:30. Instead of mentioning that and telling me that I was therefor on my own for dinner, I guess she just left me to figure that out on my own.
After having it in one form or another for five meals since Thursday, I am not eating turkey tonight.
(On an unrelated note: when I float the cursor over a capital "I" with the bottom and vertical bars aligned, it looks like a mini-ellipsis.)
As we were eating my soup at my wife's cousin's house on Friday, I turned to her and asked, in all earnestness, "May I please be finished cooking for the weekend?" I like to cook, but I've had a full slate of it this week, so after missing out on watching The Hobbit, An Unexpected Journey while I picked turkey bones out of the meat (or vice versa), I was ready to be done. She agreed that would be fair.
Fast forward to Saturday evening at home. Around 3:30 I went out for a short bike ride after the Big Game, then started watching the Iron Bowl because there wasn't anything else going on. I've really watched very little college football - and only a few pro games, too - this year, so I didn't feel too badly about indulging in another game. A while later, maybe close to 6, my wife said she was going next door for a minute, which I mistook for "going to the store," and asked her what she was getting, thinking she'd decided on something to cook. She repeated herself for my clarification, left for next door, and came back without my noticing. When I started feeling really hungry, about 7:45, I went upstairs to check on what our dinner plans were. Seeing that she was in the bathroom, I knocked on the door and started to open it, at which point she yelled and I realized she was trimming up the dog a bit more; I knew he was going to need a little finishing up following my start of the job earlier in the week, but in my opinion the timing wasn't so great.
So I went into the kitchen and got myself a bowl of leftover soup and sliced a piece of bread, since it was apparent that although I wasn't having to cook, neither was she going to. I was pretty irritated, actually. A while later, maybe after I'd gone crazy at the incredible Auburn touchdown at the end of the game, she came down and explained that she hadn't been yelling at me, but had dropped the clippers when I started to open the door and just hollered in reaction.
And it seems that she had gotten herself a "snack" and had been in the middle of eating it when she noticed that it was 5:30. Instead of mentioning that and telling me that I was therefor on my own for dinner, I guess she just left me to figure that out on my own.
After having it in one form or another for five meals since Thursday, I am not eating turkey tonight.
(On an unrelated note: when I float the cursor over a capital "I" with the bottom and vertical bars aligned, it looks like a mini-ellipsis.)
More Thanksgiving 2013
What a great weekend, with very little thought of the dark past.
First, the relatively inconsequential stuff. Even though the bird was more done than I was going for as a result of losing track of time when my cousin-in-law and his wife got here, it didn't get dried out because of it. I almost decided against using my frozen mincemeat from last year because I thought it looked too mushy, but changed my mind after test-tasting it. What a great decision. And I remembered from last year that even though the pie crust recipe says to roll it out to a quarter-inch thickness, that's really too thick. I rolled them that thick, then took the guide wheels off the rolling pin to roll it just a bit thinner. Turned out perfect, for both my mince pie and the two pumpkin. The decision to get an extra turkey breast also turned out great. I don't think we'd have run out of meat, but wouldn't have had much left over for soup and sandwiches. I also remembered to add a bunch of broth to the fabulous stuffing that I reprised from last year, since I don't cook it inside the bird. It was much moister as a result, and I also remembered to add an extra cup of diced apple; between the two corrections it was even more delicious this year than last! I did forget about the strawberry applesauce I'd planned, but it isn't as if anyone lacked enough to eat.
It was fabulous having our oldest and her children with us, and our oldest grandson's girlfriend, too. I don't think that our daughter realizes that she was the main reason why dinner was so late getting to the table - we couldn't really proceed without the mashed potatoes, and she didn't get here in time to have them done at the time we specified for dinner, but that wasn't the end of the world, either, and the only complaints about dinner being late were from her kids.
After dessert and a minor panic when our oldest daughter mistook some splatters on the side of her truck for scratches in the dark - and let's spare her the speculation over where I think the roots of that might lie - we headed south to Tim and Kathie's place to hang out with them for another day. Our dog did great on the drive, and once he got used to being around the other dogs he had a nice visit, too. We got there too late to watch the entire DVR'ed Ravens' game, but I had listened to it in the car and knew the outcome. We speed watched the first half, then saved the second for Friday morning while Kathie was replacing the ingredients I'd left behind in our efforts to get out the door. The soup was better than ever, thanks to some fresh sage and Kathie's recommendation to use frozen noodles rather than dried. Oh, my, what a difference the latter made! We finally got my wife caught up on An Unexpected Journey while I worked on the soup. Then started in on The Hunger Games while waiting for it to be time to head out to Thor, The Dark World. It was a nice piece of entertainment; they're making some nice comic-book movies lately, but let's face it: they're comic book movies. Still, we all enjoyed it, so that's more of an observation than a complaint. Then we headed home, where we finished watching The Hunger Games with a piece of pie and, for those of us so inclined, a glass of port.
Kathie was scheduled to work on Saturday, and Tim was slated to be at the model race car track, so we headed toward home by around ten. It was a gorgeous, sunny day for a drive, and we listened to the Big Game along the way, which I watched the rest of when we got home. In our 27 years here I've successfully avoided being infected by Buckeyes' fanhood - which will pay off as Maryland joins the "B1G Ten," but it seemed unfair to me that a team could not lose a game in two years and still get shut out from a shot at the national title (even if last year was their own fault because of sanctions). The game was thrilling. I then got in a short bike ride, and after getting home watched the Iron Bowl, which turned out to have an even more exciting finish than the OSU-UM game. Wow. The Buckeyes still have business to take care of next week, and I won't be heartbroken if they should lose, but they belong in the title game if they win, and now they should be there. I can't imagine a one-loss Auburn team would beat them even with their victory over the Tide.
Now, to shower and get to mass for the first Sunday of Advent.
First, the relatively inconsequential stuff. Even though the bird was more done than I was going for as a result of losing track of time when my cousin-in-law and his wife got here, it didn't get dried out because of it. I almost decided against using my frozen mincemeat from last year because I thought it looked too mushy, but changed my mind after test-tasting it. What a great decision. And I remembered from last year that even though the pie crust recipe says to roll it out to a quarter-inch thickness, that's really too thick. I rolled them that thick, then took the guide wheels off the rolling pin to roll it just a bit thinner. Turned out perfect, for both my mince pie and the two pumpkin. The decision to get an extra turkey breast also turned out great. I don't think we'd have run out of meat, but wouldn't have had much left over for soup and sandwiches. I also remembered to add a bunch of broth to the fabulous stuffing that I reprised from last year, since I don't cook it inside the bird. It was much moister as a result, and I also remembered to add an extra cup of diced apple; between the two corrections it was even more delicious this year than last! I did forget about the strawberry applesauce I'd planned, but it isn't as if anyone lacked enough to eat.
It was fabulous having our oldest and her children with us, and our oldest grandson's girlfriend, too. I don't think that our daughter realizes that she was the main reason why dinner was so late getting to the table - we couldn't really proceed without the mashed potatoes, and she didn't get here in time to have them done at the time we specified for dinner, but that wasn't the end of the world, either, and the only complaints about dinner being late were from her kids.
After dessert and a minor panic when our oldest daughter mistook some splatters on the side of her truck for scratches in the dark - and let's spare her the speculation over where I think the roots of that might lie - we headed south to Tim and Kathie's place to hang out with them for another day. Our dog did great on the drive, and once he got used to being around the other dogs he had a nice visit, too. We got there too late to watch the entire DVR'ed Ravens' game, but I had listened to it in the car and knew the outcome. We speed watched the first half, then saved the second for Friday morning while Kathie was replacing the ingredients I'd left behind in our efforts to get out the door. The soup was better than ever, thanks to some fresh sage and Kathie's recommendation to use frozen noodles rather than dried. Oh, my, what a difference the latter made! We finally got my wife caught up on An Unexpected Journey while I worked on the soup. Then started in on The Hunger Games while waiting for it to be time to head out to Thor, The Dark World. It was a nice piece of entertainment; they're making some nice comic-book movies lately, but let's face it: they're comic book movies. Still, we all enjoyed it, so that's more of an observation than a complaint. Then we headed home, where we finished watching The Hunger Games with a piece of pie and, for those of us so inclined, a glass of port.
Kathie was scheduled to work on Saturday, and Tim was slated to be at the model race car track, so we headed toward home by around ten. It was a gorgeous, sunny day for a drive, and we listened to the Big Game along the way, which I watched the rest of when we got home. In our 27 years here I've successfully avoided being infected by Buckeyes' fanhood - which will pay off as Maryland joins the "B1G Ten," but it seemed unfair to me that a team could not lose a game in two years and still get shut out from a shot at the national title (even if last year was their own fault because of sanctions). The game was thrilling. I then got in a short bike ride, and after getting home watched the Iron Bowl, which turned out to have an even more exciting finish than the OSU-UM game. Wow. The Buckeyes still have business to take care of next week, and I won't be heartbroken if they should lose, but they belong in the title game if they win, and now they should be there. I can't imagine a one-loss Auburn team would beat them even with their victory over the Tide.
Now, to shower and get to mass for the first Sunday of Advent.
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