Remember the Magi

Between today and the 6th of January, Christians everywhere will mark their doorways with the signs 20 + C + M + B + 16.  Caspar, Melchior, Balthasar, the traditional names of three mad kings who went away and were never the same.  Don't take my word for it.  Hear it from T.S. Eliot:

I love this poem for its brutal honesty.  Cause sometimes searching for God isn't all angels-on-high and rocks crying out.  It's hard work.  It's uncomfortable.  It means tears and sleepless nights.  It means traveling in the wilderness (waste land).  We think of the wise men following the star like a lighthouse in a storm, but Scripture doesn't say anything about the star leading the way.  They tell Herod, "We saw his star when it rose. . ."  The next thing we hear in Matthew,

After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was.  When they saw the star, they were overjoyed.  (NIV)

The magi saw the star as a summons, not a safety net.  They embarked on an arduous journey knowing neither when nor where the destination.  There is no mention of the star until it appears again over Bethlehem.  Between those two times, they made their way in darkness.

Remembering that they had seen the star, believing it, that's the epiphany.  That is faith.

Theme Thursday: Rock

These rosy berries are growing from between the cracks in a rock wall.  When I was first passing by, I did a double take: surely they were growing up tight--but alongside, not in--the rock.  Upon further examination, I was proved wrong.  This hardy little bush is literally rooted into the rock, and a tug revealed it was quite fixed.

I feel like there's a lesson in here somewhere.  About not casting our roots any which way, about undertaking to make sense of a hard world that, through perseverance, can become home.

"Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock." -- Matthew 7:24

Linking up with California to Korea for Theme Thursday and #holylens.

Liturgical Living: an Alternative Lifestyle

This was {originally posted here} on Oct. 1, 2013.

Hope you've noticed--I've been making note of the feast days for each blog entry these past weeks.  It's a habit I first encountered in a young adult book (highly recommended), Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Kushman.  In this journal of an English adolescent and daughter of a poor country knight, Birdy conveys her society's saturation with the liturgical seasons.  The book made a lasting impression on me: first, as a novel worth emulating, if I ever wanted to write and publish a story of my own one day; and second, as witness to the beauty and rhythm of the seasons observed by the medieval Church.

In my desire and resolutions to live a more liturgically-focused lifestyle, I've found an excuse to take up Birdy's practice.  And though we've been extremely busy these past few weeks, what with new jobs, colds, fundraisers, and speech therapy appointments, I'm not unhappy with my novice's attempt to live liturgically this Ordinary Time.

Making hot cross buns for Holy Cross Day.  I substituted maple syrup and almond milk, and left out the currants.

They came out delicious!  Even though the crosses made them look more like fortune cookies.

So how does one incorporate the feasts of the Church into everyday life?  In this, I've found two main sources helpful: CatholicCulture.org is an excellent online resource to the liturgical year, with brief introductions of saints and feast days and links to recipes, activities, crafts, and prayers; The Year and Our Children is also helpful to have on hand.

This September, there were hot cross buns for the Exaltation of the Holy Cross (Sept. 14).  I cooked up a huge pot of farfalle with peppers and Italian sausage in memorial of Saint Padre Pio (Sept. 23).  We sang "Good King Wenceslaus" on St. Wenceslaus's day (Sept. 28) and baked tea cookies to honor the English tradition of free tea shop treats on this old saint's feast.  And though I would have liked a devil pinata for Michaelmas (Sept. 29), we made do with Saint Michael's the Archangel's prayers for attacking our colds and defending our good health.

While the secular world moves through its cycles, we are aware of the deeper meanings behind berries and bonfires.

The Harvest Moon is always the full moon nearest to the autumn equinox--this month, Sept. 19, Feast of Saint Januarius.

My son is still young, so we've set aside the crafts for next year.  And while the recipes have been hit or miss, depending on the amount of time they take to prepare and my wellness that day, merely being aware of the liturgical season has placed a peace on me--as one who inhabits a country or climate is more secure, more aware of the lively world around her, assured of her place and role in Creation.

I still read Catherine, Called Birdy about once a year, incidentally, completely by accident.