Mhaolain's Child, a Renaissance Thinker in a Post-Modern Culture

Thanksgiving Proclamation

The turkey and ham are in the oven. The dressing and gravy sit beside the cranberry relish. Vegetables overflow their bowls. Desserts entice from the sideboard. The Thanksgiving feast awaits my family.

From Governor Bradford, 1623:

Inasmuch as the great Father has given us this year an abundant harvest of Indian corn, wheat, peas, beans, squashes, and garden vegetables, and has made the forests to abound with game and the sea with fish and clams, and inasmuch as He has protected us from the ravages of the savages, has spared us from pestilence and disease, has granted us freedom to worship God according to the dictates of our own conscience.

Now I, your magistrate, do proclaim that all ye Pilgrims, with your wives and ye little ones, do gather at ye meeting house, on ye hill, between the hours of 9 and 12 in the day time, on Thursday, November 29th, of the year of our Lord one thousand six hundred and twenty three and the third year since ye Pilgrims landed on ye Pilgrim Rock, there to listen to ye pastor and render thanksgiving to ye Almight God for all His blessings.

Perhaps they sang this song, written in the late 1500s, that is a part of my family's tradition:

We gather together
to ask the Lord's blessing;
he chastens and hastens
his will to make known.  
The wicked oppressing 
now cease from distressing. 
Sing praises to his name,
he forgets not his own.

Happy Thanksgiving Day! May God's love and grace overflow today and everyday.

Over the River and Through the Woods

My friend, Shelia, posts a most wonderful blog. In it, she often includes deep, thought-provoking poetry and lyrics. In contrast, my mind seems to conjure up poetry and lyrics from the traditions of my own and my son's childhood years. For decades, the days leading up to the Thanksgiving weekend are trumpeted by the song we usually call by its first line, "Over the river and through the wood." However, its author, Lydia Marie Child, named it "A Boy's Thanksgiving Day." While we seldom see significant snowfall on Thanksgiving weekend here in Tennessee, an occasional flurry on the top of the mountain enhances our earliest Advent feast. As we make the drive to the gathering of grandparents, this song rings in my mind:

Over the river, and through the wood,
To Grandfather's house we go;
The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh
through the white and drifted snow.

Over the river, and through the wood -
Oh, how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes and bites the nose
As over the ground we go.

Over the river, and through the wood,
To have a first-rate play.
Hear the bells ring, "Ting-a-ling-ding",
Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day!

Over the river, and through the wood
Trot fast, my dapple-gray!
Spring over the ground like a hunting-hound,
For this is Thanksgiving Day.

Over the river, and through the wood -
And straight through the barnyard gate,
We seem to go extremely slow,
It is so hard to wait!

Over the river, and through the wood -
Now Grandmother's cap I spy!
Hurrah for the fun! Is the pudding done?
Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!

On Thanksgiving Day itself, we gather around the table to sing the words of Henry Alford:

Come, ye thankful people, come, raise the song of harvest home;
All is safely gathered in, ere the winter storms begin.
God our Maker doth provide for our wants to be supplied;
Come to God’s own temple, come, raise the song of harvest home.

As the Psalmist sang, Come into His Presence with Thanksgiving, Enter His courts with praise, be thankful unto Him, and call upon His Name. For the Lord is good, His mercy endures throughout all generations.

Safe travels to all.

 

Protecting the Ego

A few weeks ago, our study group launched a discussion on submitting our ego to the perfect will of God. Many great thinkers postulate that having no ego is just as negative a character trait as being egocentric. Great leaders balance their ego, their confidence in who they are and their giftings, with humility and a desire to serve, not themselves, but their community. To my mind, this balance is achieved only by submitting our gifts and talents to the One who made us, who equipped us with those very talents.

The Book of Common Prayer often includes in its daily devotion a prayer, an admonition, attributed to St. Francis. I find it very hard to walk through my day in an egocentric cloud when I keep these words close to my heart:

Lord, make us instruments of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let us sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is discord, union;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

where there is sadness, joy.

Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;

to be understood as to understand;

to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.

 

 

Unexpected Grace

This morning my telephone rang at 1:55. Like most mothers, I vaulted out of my bed to read the caller id. I didn't recognize the number, so I thought it was either a crank call or a wrong number. But, it was the right number. The burglar alarm was going off at our office -- at 2 o'clock in the morning when the temperature was a bone-crackling 18 degrees. Like wind-up toys that had been over-sprung, we jumped into warm clothes and dashed out the driveway to face whatever was happening at the office.

Just as we turned along the last stretch of road, the hills and trees gave way for the rising of the brilliant waning moon. It hung low in the sky, a sliver of silver against the black velvet of the mid-night sky. The stars twinkled like a royal procession, welcoming the coming of the ruler of the night sky. It was a divine moment. Again, I was made to think of God the Son, whom the moon is seeming to represent and herald in this Advent season.

Fortunately, the alarm was triggered by a movement inside, most likely one of the letters we hang on our bulletin board. But the drive home was spent in grateful contemplation of the beauty of the cold night, where the frost sparkled in the meadows, the stars glimmered in the sky, and the moon emptied itself in order to remind us of the coming of the Greatest Gift, our Redeemer, Jesus Christ.

Weaving the Threads of Silence

It seems one of God's great mysteries how themes of our daily lives often converge. My Tuesday Bible study group has been wrestling with the challenge of growing in our relationship with God. We're struggling with the concepts of how to take thoughts captive, to be still, to keep silent, to rest, and, ultimately, to submit every facet of our beings to a God who is both Creative Force and Father, Master and Saviour, Lord and Friend. We're growing to understand that ultimate peace in this world comes when we rest in what our author, Meletios Webber, describes as ". . . the overflowing silence, . . . a full and profound experience of being, and a deep awareness of God" (19). The thread of my life that is my Tuesday Bible study focuses on resting in God.

During a conversation with my son yesterday, we discussed one of the ideas he's musing in his studies at university. He asked me if I was aware of the etymological links in Hebrew between the word Sabbath and silence. I had to chuckle. Here was yet another facet of my life in which God was reminding me to pursue Him in, of all things, Silence. Again, a thread of my life focuses on the desire to rest, to cease work, to take a Sabbatical, to Be Silent.

Today, the opening Scripture of the Book of Common Prayer's morning devotion comes from Habakkuk 2:20: The Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before him. Taking the hint, I started a small refresher in the idea of keeping the Sabbath and resting. Again, funny that one of my favorite praise choruses these days is "Rest in You" by Norman Hutchins. Two more threads from my day that bring in this pursuit of Silence and Rest.

The final thread of thought came today in a most unusual manner, for today I've been cooking the dishes that will be my contributions to our family's Thanksgiving gathering. I chopped, mixed, baked, and wrapped all my food in preparation to freeze it and ultimately transport it to the various gatherings. It hit me -- I'm working just like the Jewish women who get their food ready ahead of the Sabbath so they can rest. So, I'm approaching my Thanksgiving holiday as a Sabbatical. I'm going to rest, be still, and keep silent before the Lord.

The Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before him.

The Moon and the Stars Herald Him

The moon has been spectacularly beautiful the last two nights. Perhaps it's because the sun sets and darkness comes so early here these days, around 4:45. No matter, for the moon seemed to glow more brightly, more whitely last night. Hanging low in the north-eastern sky in its waning stage, it made me think of the line from the Psalmist in which he reminds us that "the Heavens declare the glory of God." Last night's third-quarter moon seemed to me to be an analogy of the Incarnation. The upper half was held in darkness while the bottom half, that half that gave light to the earth, shown in great contrast with the dark night sky. So did the Incarnate Christ. He disregarded His divinity, left it in the Heavenlies, and assumed the likeness of mankind to bring His light of truth and love to a fallen people. The moon was no less full and round last night, just as Christ was no less God when He chose to take on flesh in order to redeem His creation to Himself.  Gloria Deo!

Dancing in the Advent Season

Like many Tennessee families, our family routine for last weekend followed its somewhat normal routine for the beginning of the Advent season. The majority of the pumpkins were put away, and the Christmas tree was erected and decorated. Christmas music enveloped our home and our hill. We participated in our church's worship service, shared Sunday brunch with dear friends, and retired to the hill to watch our Titans continue their amazing run to victory. During all these events, I found myself tapping my little Celtic toes to the music, floating around the house with the joy that comes to me with the anticipation of celebrating this series of holidays that compose our Advent. Much to my surprise, my son issued a caution to me while I was in mid-Celtic tap.  "Mama," he said, "you'd better watch out or you'll have it snowing." My son's reference is to the near-legend Celtic Prayer-Dance for Snow.  We laughed and went on with our family visit.

Imagine my surprise when my friend, Emily, told me that her friends in Brentwood had seen snow flurries flying on Sunday morning. Later, my mother-in-law told my husband that she also had seen flurries at her home on the Plateau. How exciting to hear that the dna of my ancestors still works its mysterious effects through me! Let the dancing continue! Rejoice!

Oh Father Eternal, Oh Chief of all Clans, Creator and Warper of All that I am;

Oh Jesu MacMary, Redeemer of Man, Send a fine blanket of snow!

A Holiday Music Masterpiece

Family traditions have a sort of ebb and flow that follow our seasons of life. My friend, George Grant, refers to this type of tradition as "Little-t traditions," important but not foundational. Since my husband and I married almost 29 years ago, we've developed family traditions around the celebrations of all holidays. Family gatherings for Easter, Independence Day, and Thanksgiving provide a basis for our holiday celebrations. But these all pale in comparison to our glorious Christmas traditions. At the Advent season, we start the rolling of Christmas movies old and new. The stereo booms the Christmas music from our satellite music feeds. The diffuser sprays holiday scents of cinnamon, cloves, and citrus into the atmosphere. You'd have to be from way out of town not to recognize it's the Christmas season here on the hill.

Last year we discovered a brand new musical offering that has since taken a primary role in the celebration of our Advent traditions. If you haven't heard and/or watched the performance of Andrew T. Miller's brilliant composition, The Birth of Christ, run to your computer and order this work that I believe will come to be regarded on the same level as Handel's magnificent Messiah. His soaring "Magnificat" and stirring "Birth of Christ" lift the soul. The prologue/epilogue, though, "One Blessed Night" leads to dancing around the house in sheer joy.

The story of the recording of the production alone is worthy of the price of the dvd or cd. Read Nashville's own Jeremy Thiessen's post about his 2007 interview with Andrew Miller.  Enjoy!

Welcome, HolyDay Season!

The long-anticipated arrival of Advent of 2008 is a whisker away. November 15 is the beginning of the Advent season in the Orthodox Church. This weekend, my family will scurry around and accomplish the decorating mish-mash that occurs when the fall turkeys and pumpkins vie for a place in my house with the Christmas tree. For the next 2 weeks, the symbol of the gift of everlasting life will glimmer in the corner of my family room alongside my mantle decked with pumpkins, fall leaves, and turkeys. I find it interesting that our American custom of giving thanks for our blessings serves as the herald trumpet for the season during which we celebrate that greatest of gifts, the Incarnation of our Saviour. I pray that during these next several weeks the words of the songs of Christmas will pierce the hearts of those who may not yet know the Messiah. What an amazing opportunity to talk about our love for Him and His love for us in a hard, cynical world.

"Joy to the World, the Lord has come. Let earth receive her King." Amen, Amen.

May the Force Be with Me

Thanks to my Tuesday study based on Bread & Water, Wine & Oil by Meletios Webber, I find myself continuously pondering my relationship with the Creator of the Universe. I've long found myself fascinated by the appellation given to that great patriarch of the Old Testament, Abraham, who was named as the friend of God. But in the stories of the Old Testament, God is always presented as a Great Force -- a burning bush, a pillar of fire, a mighty wind. But Webber points out, "With the Incarnation of the Son of God, the God-man Jesus Christ became the unique bridge between the individual person . . . and the God of Heaven. . . . With the Incarnation, God is no longer simply a power, but a Person with a name. That name is 'Father'" (41-42).

In one of his treatises on The Lord's Prayer, St John Chrysostom contemplates the words of Jesus Christ when He instructed His followers to pray by addressing God as "Our Father." Chrysostom notes that Christ does not say, "My Father, which art in Heaven," but "Our Father." As such, Christ Himself teaches that ". . .to all He given one nobility, having vouchsafed to be called the Father of all alike."

Today, I visited with my dad and mom. We sat in their living room and prayed for the situations that engulf us at this moment in time. I'm always comforted by sharing prayer time with my parents. But I'm even more in awe that the Maker of All Things Visible and Invisible, that Great Force, is my Eternal Heavenly Father, who loves me even more than my precious earthly dad.