Monday, December 21, 2009
O Antiphon: December 21
O Radiant Dawn, splendor of light eternal and sun of justice: come, and enlighten those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
O Antiphon: December 20
O Key of David and scepter of the house of Israel, you open so that no one else can close again, you close so that no person can open: come, and lead the captive from prison, free those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
O Antiphon: December 19
O Root of Jesse, you stand as a signal for the people; before you kings shall fall silent and to you the nations shall make their prayer: come to deliver us, and do not delay.
Friday, December 18, 2009
O Antiphon: December 18
O Lord and leader of the house of Israel, you appeared to Moses in the burning bush and gave him the law on Sinai: come, and redeem us with outstretched arm.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
O Anithphons: December 17
Last year I discovered the “O Antiphons” for the first time. They kind of turn up the heat on Advent and I enjoyed praying with them and thought this year I would post them for those of you who might also enjoy a very short daily prayer. Beginning on December 17th and continuing until the 23rd, the ancient church has sung (and continues to sing in liturgical churches) the “O Antiphons”. Dating to at least the 9th century, and probably even before that, these seven messianic titles of Christ have been used to remind us of what we wait for and to increase our anticipation that Christmas is coming. For those of you who are following this blog, may they give voice to the longing of your soul and the joy that we await.
O Wisdom, you came from the mouth of the Most High, reaching from end to end and ordering all things mightily and sweetly: come, and teach us the way of prudence.
O Wisdom, you came from the mouth of the Most High, reaching from end to end and ordering all things mightily and sweetly: come, and teach us the way of prudence.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Waiting
I had an interesting trip to the grocery store this week. I do not enjoy grocery shopping, so I’m pretty brisk about it. “Get in and get out!” is my motto. But I happened to arrive on a day or at a time when everyone else in the store seemed to be driving those little motorized carts. There was a blockage on the canned fruit aisle, caused by a head-on of two of these little carts. So I dodged up the pasta row, when another one came zipping straight at me and a woman exclaimed “Finally! A tall person!” She explained that she had made three loops already, hoping for someone who could hand her down the pasta she wanted, shelved high above where she could reach from her seat. I thought about what that would be like for me, who wants to get out of there as quickly as possible, to have to loop around for every item while I waited in hope that someone would be coming to help me out. Not a happy thought.
I cruised on, feeling pretty good about my ability to reach angel hair pasta at will, when I got into a log-jam on the spice aisle. I just wanted to grab the curry powder and go, but there was a gentleman there who needed help finding salt. I showed him where it was and he engaged me in a conversation about whether it was okay to eat something without an expiration date, something his mother had told him never to do. As I tried to reassure him that salt would be an exception to that rule, another cart came down and stopped right in front of us, trapping us there in the spices. And then, I kid you not, this man said “Since we’re all stuck here together for a moment, let me tell you a joke…” and he did. The woman cruised on, determined to find her particular spice at a cheaper price (which as an aside, I find really impressive, because it means two trips to the grocery store to save a buck, by a person who is not ambulatory, which would be one of Dante’s lower circles to me). This joking, salt-buying man then proceeded to tell me of the death of his wife in the last year, the loneliness he feels, the difficulties he’s had in his family and ended it all by telling me, “I just want to find a woman”. Wait! Was I being picked up in the spice aisle? I don’t really know why he said that to me, I think it was just the pain of facing Christmas alone. Finding the yard covered in snow for the first time in 20 years and having a joke to tell, and no one to share them with. I can really understand that. I stood there sharing his pain for a moment and feeling very inadequate.
As my groceries were tallied up, the checker complained about how everybody is always in a hurry. She was catching her husband’s cold and she just wanted to slow everything down. In fact she wanted to take a nap. And then she told me all about her husband’s poor health and the weariness she felt from taking care of him and working and trying to keep everything together. I went home in a reflective mood. This is the season of Advent, when we wait in expectancy for the coming of Christ. This coming is past, present and future and as I thought about the forty-five minutes or so I had spent at the local market, encountering the faces of helplessness, loneliness and fear, I felt so strongly that these people needed the “now” part of Christmas. The belief that Christ’s coming can also be celebrated as the very real presence of the Son of God in our very ordinary lives. Whatever we face during this season, Christ is right beside us in it, working for our good even when we can’t see it. That is a precious gift to hang on to as we wait.
Here is a poem I ran across recently by George Herbert (1593-1633), an English rector, which beautifully combines our present need with the waiting of the Advent season:
The Call
Come my Way, my Truth, my Life:
Such a Way, as gives us breath:
Such a Truth, as ends all strife:
Such a Life, as killeth death.
Come, my Light, my Feast, my Strength:
Such a Light, as shows a feast:
Such a Feast, as mends in length:
Such a Strength, as makes his guest.
Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart:
Such a Joy, as none can move:
Such a Love, as none can part:
Such a Heart, as joys in love.
I cruised on, feeling pretty good about my ability to reach angel hair pasta at will, when I got into a log-jam on the spice aisle. I just wanted to grab the curry powder and go, but there was a gentleman there who needed help finding salt. I showed him where it was and he engaged me in a conversation about whether it was okay to eat something without an expiration date, something his mother had told him never to do. As I tried to reassure him that salt would be an exception to that rule, another cart came down and stopped right in front of us, trapping us there in the spices. And then, I kid you not, this man said “Since we’re all stuck here together for a moment, let me tell you a joke…” and he did. The woman cruised on, determined to find her particular spice at a cheaper price (which as an aside, I find really impressive, because it means two trips to the grocery store to save a buck, by a person who is not ambulatory, which would be one of Dante’s lower circles to me). This joking, salt-buying man then proceeded to tell me of the death of his wife in the last year, the loneliness he feels, the difficulties he’s had in his family and ended it all by telling me, “I just want to find a woman”. Wait! Was I being picked up in the spice aisle? I don’t really know why he said that to me, I think it was just the pain of facing Christmas alone. Finding the yard covered in snow for the first time in 20 years and having a joke to tell, and no one to share them with. I can really understand that. I stood there sharing his pain for a moment and feeling very inadequate.
As my groceries were tallied up, the checker complained about how everybody is always in a hurry. She was catching her husband’s cold and she just wanted to slow everything down. In fact she wanted to take a nap. And then she told me all about her husband’s poor health and the weariness she felt from taking care of him and working and trying to keep everything together. I went home in a reflective mood. This is the season of Advent, when we wait in expectancy for the coming of Christ. This coming is past, present and future and as I thought about the forty-five minutes or so I had spent at the local market, encountering the faces of helplessness, loneliness and fear, I felt so strongly that these people needed the “now” part of Christmas. The belief that Christ’s coming can also be celebrated as the very real presence of the Son of God in our very ordinary lives. Whatever we face during this season, Christ is right beside us in it, working for our good even when we can’t see it. That is a precious gift to hang on to as we wait.
Here is a poem I ran across recently by George Herbert (1593-1633), an English rector, which beautifully combines our present need with the waiting of the Advent season:
The Call
Come my Way, my Truth, my Life:
Such a Way, as gives us breath:
Such a Truth, as ends all strife:
Such a Life, as killeth death.
Come, my Light, my Feast, my Strength:
Such a Light, as shows a feast:
Such a Feast, as mends in length:
Such a Strength, as makes his guest.
Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart:
Such a Joy, as none can move:
Such a Love, as none can part:
Such a Heart, as joys in love.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Giving Thanks
I think it’s wonderful to live in a country that has a national day of Thanksgiving. Wherever Americans are gathered next Thursday they will most likely commemorate the day with friends or family and feasting. Whether staying home or going to Grandma’s, soldiers in war zones, or people traveling, studying or living abroad, there will be an attempt at a “traditional” Thanksgiving dinner and some moment to give thanks and remember our blessings. Giving thanks seems like a very appropriate way to end Ordinary time and begin the holy season of Advent and Christmas.
I read in a news article this week that English speakers say “thanks” and “thank you” up to 100 times a day. That seems amazing to me! The author said that our use of it could be quite confusing to people who come here from other countries. We apparently use it several times at the end of a telephone call, as a way to signal we are winding up the conversation. I paid some attention to my use of “thanks” right after reading this and noticed that just going into the post office caused a heavy exchange of “thanks” to and from people holding the doors open and between the clerk at the counter and I. Then I went to the grocery store where the checker and the bag girl and I thanked each other rather profusely for me buying groceries, they handing me a receipt and helping me out with my bags. Interesting. But I don’t think that this gracious use of “thank you” really makes us grateful people. I suspect we have instead a culture of saying thanks without paying much attention to whether we really mean it or not. Because when I’m at the post office, I’m not really thinking about how glad I am that we have an organized postal system that will deliver my package to the right person – I’m just acknowledging that the clerk handed me my receipt.
But developing a spirit of gratitude is really an important part of our spiritual formation. Because the difference between people who find ways to “always give thanks” and those who become bitter and hopeless people isn’t really in the circumstances of life, but in the way we view God and his action in our unique situations. Life is not always a bed of roses, as we all know. Those people who can find something to be thankful for in the midst of this broken world have a peace and a joy that is the best testimony I know. They have discovered that giving thanks changes things. As the writer Wendy M. Wright says,
I read in a news article this week that English speakers say “thanks” and “thank you” up to 100 times a day. That seems amazing to me! The author said that our use of it could be quite confusing to people who come here from other countries. We apparently use it several times at the end of a telephone call, as a way to signal we are winding up the conversation. I paid some attention to my use of “thanks” right after reading this and noticed that just going into the post office caused a heavy exchange of “thanks” to and from people holding the doors open and between the clerk at the counter and I. Then I went to the grocery store where the checker and the bag girl and I thanked each other rather profusely for me buying groceries, they handing me a receipt and helping me out with my bags. Interesting. But I don’t think that this gracious use of “thank you” really makes us grateful people. I suspect we have instead a culture of saying thanks without paying much attention to whether we really mean it or not. Because when I’m at the post office, I’m not really thinking about how glad I am that we have an organized postal system that will deliver my package to the right person – I’m just acknowledging that the clerk handed me my receipt.
But developing a spirit of gratitude is really an important part of our spiritual formation. Because the difference between people who find ways to “always give thanks” and those who become bitter and hopeless people isn’t really in the circumstances of life, but in the way we view God and his action in our unique situations. Life is not always a bed of roses, as we all know. Those people who can find something to be thankful for in the midst of this broken world have a peace and a joy that is the best testimony I know. They have discovered that giving thanks changes things. As the writer Wendy M. Wright says,
“The act of thanksgiving presses the sweet nectar of joy from the husks and hulls of everyday life. We harvest the fruits that wait, heavy and ripe, to fall: the thousand small gestures of caring, the struggles with our shortcomings, the legacy of our faithfulness, the lessons learned from disappointments and failure. All of it, gathered up in gratitude.”No matter what concerns press on you today, may you find that giving thanks is formative and produces a cornucopia of fruitfulness in your life. Please consider joining with us for our Thanksgiving Eve service on Wednesday night at 7. It will be a wonderful opportunity to give thanks and receive the Eucharist (which is the Greek word for “thanksgiving”) together.
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