Zebulun and Naphtali

Readings of contrast yesterday, and an interesting take on them. "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light."

Historical background: around 722 BC, the kingdom of Israel was overthrown, and that conquest began in the regions of Zebulun and Naphtali. It was from these regions that the light of salvation would arise in Jesus' public ministry, and where Christ would first proclaim that the kingdom of God is at hand.

As our new priest pointed out, there are several implications in our own lives, but the one I found myself considering was how we only find our greatest growth from the darkest areas of our lives. We each have our Zebulun and Naphtali, our areas of darkness. Often we think that God is absent from our lives in these areas, or we reject God's will in order to embrace our own. But often we learn later that love is at its most illuminating brightness in our deepest darkness. That darkness may arise from the loss of someone we love. It might spring from crushing guilt and shame, either deserved or wrongly accepted. It might have its roots in personal failure, or in uncontrollable circumstance. Whatever its source, God's love shines brighter than that darkness, and it will light up our lives and shine on those around us if we follow Christ, as the first disciples did.

Peter and Andrew. James and John. They left their former lives behind. Perhaps they'd dealt with the fisherman's life for so long that even the unknown future offered by this itinerant represented a greater hope for significance. But the remaining depths of my own life likewise call out for a transformation, from hopeless darkness to glorious light, that can only take place if I walk with Jesus in those areas, as well.

It takes a degree of abandon that we too often fear.

I'm so excited!

For over ten years now, there has been a wonderful music ministry in our area. Their main service is one of the two most prayerful and reflective experiences I've ever had of the Stations of the Cross. We've actually had the other at our parish the last two years, a pianist and singer from the Cincinnati area.

At any rate, I've previously considered auditioning for this group, but didn't feel I had the time to dedicate to it. But with Lent and Easter being so early this year, my time balance has changed, as we'll finish our services before cycling season starts. And what do you know - the group is glad to have me along! So, I get to sing with a really talented and fun bunch of folks, doing something that I know from experience is really worthwhile, that truly enhances people's ability to identify with Christ - and those around him - in this ancient reflection on the Way of the Cross. We'll be singing in nine different area churches, all on either Friday or Sunday during Lent, so it's a pretty busy schedule!

No words

Some situations just can't be blog fodder, no matter how much they're on one's mind, y'know?

A supremely blessed Christmas day

Words cannot convey my mixture of contentment and tiredness.

I pray that Christmas has brought you a similar bounty of blessings.

Here's one of the REALLY high points (captured in-progress):

"Merry Christmas"

It seems to me that we sometimes mindlessly repeat a thing out of habit until it completely loses its real meaning. I think of two young lovers, so enamored of the feelings they have for each other that they repeat "I love you," at every opportunity. Eventually the words can become a substitute for real, loving choices in their lives that might nurture a growing, deepening love, into which they could continue to grow for as long as they live. Long ago I was partner to a marriage such as this; eventually even I came to realize that the words weren't true anymore, so I stopped saying them. How blessed I am to have those days behind me, to have rediscovered the choices and actions that engender the lasting love in which my wife and I share.

I think that "Merry Christmas" has become that kind of phrase for some of us, even among those who insist on this greeting rather than a more "neutral" alternative because they insist on naming what they're really trying to celebrate. This Advent season, I've been blessed with consistent daily reflection on what Christmas really means. As a result, I find that I don't fully agree with Linus, who after quoting St. Luke's account, concludes, "And that's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown."

You see, I think Linus is only partly right. For recalling the historical, humble birth of Jesus two millennia ago, accompanied by the proclamations of angels and the worship of shepherds and Magi, is not so beneficial to us if this Savior's love does not transform our lives. Just as the love to which I once paid lip service became a shallow substitute for the real love my wife and I have since found together, so the commercial, traditional, and even religious and humanitarian trappings of Christmas can become superficial substitutes for truly celebrating Christ.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not saying we shouldn't give gifts, attend parties, trim the tree, attend church services, feed and shelter the hungry and homeless, or give to those less fortunate. Each of these, in context, can be a valid and worthwhile thing. But where is our focus amid all the resulting hubbub?

The belief that Son of God came to dwell among us 2000 years ago, to deliver all who would wish it into the Father's love for all eternity, does not bear its fullest effect in our life until we allow Him to bear us into that love, to fill us with His Spirit, to dwell in us as surely as he ever dwelt among us. It is He alone, alive in me, that does any good thing that springs from my life.

Lest you fear these ramblings may be a haughty put-down of the way you observe this season, may these final words persuade you otherwise. For even if these various outward observances form the only meaning of Christmas we may have ever known, still we should embrace them. For just as the empty words I spoke to my now-beloved spouse ultimately became filled beyond my imagining, so Christ will fill us as we respond to His presence in the ways in which we are able. We should observe this holy season as well as we know how.

The most blessed and merry Christmas to whomever enters here!

Small blessings

Sometimes, simply not getting as sick as it feel like I'm going to be is a real treat.

Late yesterday morning I started feeling queasy. I ate a packet of oatmeal, hoping that might settle my stomach. Instead, I felt myself feeling progressively worse throughout the early afternoon, so decided to carry my sick self home. I pretty much went straight to bed for a couple hours, until oldest daughter rang. Read a while, then put the lights on the tree, finally, after which I started having chills. Meanwhile my queasy stomach and grumbling intestines continued to cause me to feel quite nervous about where all this was headed. Back in bed by 9 for a broken night's sleep, but surprisingly felt well enough to come in to work today, if a little late.

I really thought this was going to be much worse.

Tired Monday

Well, I thought I had the weekend planned pretty well. Saturday we'd get out fairly early and head out to the tree farm to execute our Christmas tree - apparently the greener option, from what I've been reading - before the storm hit, as the weather was supposed to be even worse the next day. Sunday we had our youngest grandson's first birthday party scheduled "in the evening," but an otherwise clear day except for a trainer session on the bike.

Well, heading out into the weather late Saturday morning, we found the roads passable but treacherous, so decided to postpone the tree trip. I planned instead to take a couple hours off during the week to tree hunt. As it turned out, the roads got better on Saturday as the tree hunting weather got worse, snow giving way to rain. Good thing, too, as I ended up running a grandchild errand on Saturday afternoon, then going and getting my daughter from work later in the evening.

Sunday, the weather pattern didn't dump on us as forecasted, so after 10:30 Mass I started the spaghetti sauce for supper, ate lunch, we took advantage of the "mini-break" in the weather to get our tree, did another grandkid errand followed by the birthday party (4:00 isn't exactly "in the evening," is it?), had supper, went to evening prayer, and then closed the day with a cheesecake-baking and caramel-wrapping mini-party at the house (accompanied by my half of a bottle of red wine).

I should have taken time off today to sleep!