Monday 31 December 2012

"Old long since" - The eve of a new year


"God said: “Let there be lights in the dome of the sky, to separate day from night. Let them mark the fixed times, the days and the years, and serve as luminaries in the dome of the sky, to shed light upon the earth.” And so it happened: God made the two great lights, the greater one to govern the day, and the lesser one to govern the night; and he made the stars. God set them in the dome of the sky, to shed light upon the earth, to govern the day and the night, and to separate the light from the darkness. God saw how good it was. Evening came, and morning followed."
(The Book of Genesis 1:14)

I shall be working this New Year's Eve, until around 11pm - I'm grateful for it and would rather be earning than not, whatever the time of day or year! But I'm mindful of the significance of this evening, and tomorrow's dawn. I won't be one of the very hardy Brighton eccentrics who traditionally take to the sea in the January wind and rain on New Year's morning. But I am enough of a Brighton eccentric to want to walk down to the pier and along the pebble beach in wellies by myself tomorrow morning; it's one of the practical pleasures that drew me to this city in the first place.
Beyond that, I've resolved this year not to make New Year resolutions as such: I'd rather concentrate on what I need to do to enable what I want to happen in my life. Oscar Wilde said that resolutions at New Year are: "simply checks that men draw on a bank where they have no account.” I've learnt a lot about myself and the people around me over the past year; some of it, I've even liked. I'm hoping to grow to be more accepting of the things I don't readily like or even acknowledge. At the end of any day, not everyone will or should like me; but then only I have to be comfortable in my skin as I settle down with my cup of Redbush and an unseemly large piece of treacle tart. For someone who's spent most of her adult life dreading criticism about their clothes, this is progress. 
I realise that since starting this blog in February, I've surfaced as a kind of hybrid of Anne of Green Gables and Mrs Doyle found reading The Guardian on a long train journey. Luckily, I'm partial to all of these ingredients. It may not have been quite what I was expecting, or indeed everybody's cup of Redbush, but I believe it could have been a lot worse.

"May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
May the clarity of light be yours,
May the fluency of the ocean be yours, 
May the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow wind
 
Work these words of
 love around you,
An invisible cloak 
To mind your life." 
(From "Beannacht - A New Year's Blessing", by the late, wonderful John O'Donohue)

"We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day."
(Edith Lovejoy Pierce)

"The object of a New Year is not that we should have a new year. It is that we should have a new soul."
(G.K. Chesterton)

"Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right."
(Oprah Winfrey)

"New Year’s Day… now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual."
(Mark Twain) 

"For last year's words belong to last year's language And next year's words await another voice."
(T.S. Elliot)

"Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year."
(Ralph Waldo Emerson)

"No one ever regarded the first of January with indifference. It is that from which all date their time, and count upon what is left. It is the nativity of our common Adam." 
(Charles Lamb)


As a longtime fan of Robbie Burns, I love "Auld Lang Syne". He wrote the poem and set it to a traditional folk tune in 1788, yet it endures today across the English speaking world; at funerals and memorials, graduations and farewells and of course on New Year's Eve. The Scots title translated into English is simply "Old Long Since"; days gone by.
I care not a jot that it's been done to near death by any performer with half a tonsil, nor that Burns probably plagiarised a couple of 16th century folk songs to construct it: it is remembrance and rekindling in all simplicity. Included below is probably my favourite version, sung as Burns would have wanted to hear it.

"And surely you’ll buy your pint cup
and surely I’ll buy mine! 
And we'll take a cup o' kindness yet, 
for auld lang syne. 
And there’s a hand my trusty friend 
and give us a hand o’ thine! 
And we’ll take a cup o' kindness yet, 
for auld lang syne."

"Auld Lang Syne"  Paolo Nutini
                                                                                                                                                                      
Personally, I wish you all everything that you would wish for yourselves, but also every blessing and good thing that you may not know you yet require. May you wake tomorrow knowing your own name and those of your truest friends. If  you cannot give a name to God, may you be at peace with those who do, whatever that name may be. Be as good as you can be on any day, believing that both you and the world can be better still tomorrow. I hope your journey this past year has brought you closer to yourself and shown you that you can allow yourself and others a little more kindness in the next one.                                                                                                     Slainte, Namaste and God Bless X                                



Sunday 30 December 2012

The Power of Love


"Tell me, what's Love?" said Youth, one day, 
To drooping Age, who crossed his way, 
"It is a sunny hour of play, 
For which repentance dear doth pay, 
Repentance! Repentance! 
And this is Love, as wise men say."
(St Thomas More)


The American critic George Jean Nathan said that: "Beauty makes idiots sad and wise men merry"; there is of course a fine line between appreciation and criticism. I went for an early morning walk today and decide to get a cup of tea along the bleary-eyed seafront. The very disgruntled and shuffly woman serving was largely on her mobile 'phone, berating her partner to one girlfriend after another. His crime? He'd bought her beauty treatments for Christmas. "Is he having a laugh or what?? I'll give him ******* luxury spas mate!" She was clearly insulted. As one of the many who buys her own Nivea from the supermarket (and, I have to say, makes far better tea), I wanted to tell her that a smile and a look of appreciation or even interest would serve her far better than any day at the spa.
The day after Boxing Day, I came back to Brighton to work and was hurrying along very absent mindedly when I passed a woman pushing her empty buggy. Her very little boy was stomping along beside her. He was wearing a Santa hat and trying to keep it off his eyes. I turned back to smile at him and he promptly told me it had been his birthday on Christmas Day, the same day as Jesus' birthday.
"Oh?"
"But he's a lot older than me. I'm four."
"Mmm, how old do you think He is?"
"Don't know. Older than Dad..."

His mum started giggling as he burbled away.
"And my Dad's very old. But Mum is older..."
I looked at her properly and she might have been all of thirty-five on a bad day.
"Mum's so old that Dad has to buy her special cream for her face..."
His Mum gave me the most beautiful smile and whispered:"Only Avon stuff. But he likes me to have it. Not sure it's working!"
I wanted to tell her that whatever it was, it was clearly "working" for all of them.



I admit that I cry at Christmas commercials; only the really good ones, mind. Over the past couple of years, John Lewis seems to have hacked into my hormonal hard drive. This year's commercial, with the snowman determined to provide his snow-woman with gloves, scarf and a hat, has made me wipe my eyes with mince-pie fingers several times. Of course, the lovely matching woollens could only be for decoration - she's a snow-woman for pity's sake - and might well add to an eventual demise by meltdown. But the production and the sentiment are beautiful. Much as I love Gabrielle Aplin's version of "The Power of Love", I wanted to include the original, glorious song by Frankie Goes To Hollywood, cheesy and kitsch nativity video and all.
The song still sounds magical to me, combining all the secular and spiritual energies of love. Singer and composer Holly Johnson, himself no stranger to controversy, would later say that: "I always felt like "The Power of Love" was the record that would save me in this life," Written at the height of the 1980s' AIDS crisis in the UK, the song became something of a bonding anthem for anyone affected or moved by the epidemic, later lending it's name to a U.S. based charity, working to bring an end to HIV / AIDS in Africa. Of course, the charity is still very much in evidence today; the virus in Africa is still rampant and merciless, as written elsewhere in this blog.
Love really is the greatest gift of all, whether it's in a jar of face-cream, a life saving serum, or just a smile.


www.poweroflove.org




That John Lewis commercial...
....and the wonderful, original "Power of Love", by Frankie Goes To Hollywood.

"I'll protect you from the hooded claw,
Keep the vampires from your door; 
I'm so in love with you, 
Purge the soul,
Make love your goal.
Dreams are like angels,
They keep bad at bay:
Love is the light 
Scaring darkness away" 
(Holly Johnson)


"Everything has it's beauty, but not everyone sees it.
They must often change who would be constant in happiness or wisdom."
(Confucius)

Wednesday 26 December 2012

Come what Mayan...



As 2012 draws to a close, a timely cartoon courtesy of the atheist brother-in-law...





"All the Time in the World"  Louis Armstrong



Shooting stars



Many people will be familiar with the account of the Christmas Armistice which took place in Flanders during World War I. Thank you to the lovely Catriona McGlynn for reminding me of it's poignancy and relevance today - it's reproduced here. Thank you also to lovely Sister Genny. from the Order of the Sisters of the Good Shepherd, for sending me Robert Louis Stevenson's beautiful seasonal poem, also included below. Two beautiful ladies, who I'm so pleased to have come to know over the past year; both have have previously featured in this blog, both filled with grace and spirit in very individual ways: blessed be.


“Peace is not merely a distant goal that we seek,
but a means by which we arrive at that goal.”
(Martin Luther King)


“Peace is that brief glorious moment in history when everybody stands around reloading.” (Stanley Wentraub).
During World War I, in the winter of 1914 on the battlefields of Flanders, one of the most unusual events in the history of human conflict and possibly in the history of humanity itself took place. The Germans had been in a fierce battle with the British and French. Both sides were dug in, seemingly safe in muddy, man-made trenches six to eight feet deep that seemed to stretch forever.
All of a sudden, German troops began to put small Christmas trees, lit with candles, outside their trenches. Then, they began to sing songs. Across the way, in the "No Man's Land" between them, came songs from the British and French troops. Many of the Germans, who had worked in England before the war, were able to speak good enough English to propose a "Christmas" truce.
The British and French troops, all along the trench miles, accepted. In a few places, allied troops fired at the Germans as they climbed out of their trenches. But the Germans were persistent and Christmas would be celebrated, even under the threat of death.
According to Stanley Weintraub, who wrote about this event in his book "Silent Night", signboards arose up and down the trenches in a variety of shapes. "They were usually in English," he writes, "or in fractured English from the German side. "YOU NO FIGHT, WE NO FIGHT" appeared to be the universal message. Some British units improvised "MERRY CHRISTMAS" banners and waited for a response."
More festive and pacifist placards popped up on both sides. The resultant spontaneous truce held. Soldiers left their trenches, meeting in the middle to shake hands. The first order of business was to bury the dead who had been previously unreachable because of the conflict. Then, they exchanged gifts: chocolate cake, cognac, postcards, newspapers, tobacco. In a few places along the trenches, soldiers exchanged rifles for soccer balls and began to play games.
It didn't last forever. Inevitably, some of the generals didn't like it at all and commanded their troops to resume shooting at each other. After all, they were supposed to be at war. The soldiers eventually did resume firing at each other. But only after, in a number of cases, a few days of wasting many rounds of ammunition shooting at stars in the sky, instead of soldiers in the opposing army across the field.
For a few precious moments there was peace on earth and goodwill towards men. All because the focus was on Christmas. There's something about Christmas that can change people. It happened over 2000 years ago in a little town called Bethlehem. It's been happening over and over again down through the ages and across the world.
This week, spirit willing, it might well happen again.

"Those who are at war with each other are not at peace with themselves."
(William Hazlitt)


"War Is Over"  James Morrison (for the "War Child" benefit, St James' Church London, 2012)


"Christmas Prayer"
 (Robert Louis Stevenson)
Loving God,

Help us remember the birth of Jesus,
that we may share in the song of the angels,
the gladness of the shepherds,
and the worship of the wise men.
Close the door of hate
and open the door of love all over the world.
Let kindness come with every gift and good desires with every greeting.
Deliver us from evil by the blessing which Christ brings,
and teach us to be merry with clear hearts.
May the Christmas morning make us happy to be Your children,
and Christmas evening bring us to our beds with grateful thoughts,
forgiving and forgiven, for Jesus' sake.
Amen


"Hark! The Herald Angels Sing"  NBA "Big Sing Choir", Newcastle-upon- Tyne, 2007

"Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled.
Joyful, all ye nations rise,
Join the triumph of the skies!
With the angelic host proclaim:
'Christ is born in Bethlehem'"
(John Wesley)


"When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will have peace."
(Jimi Hendrix)



"Be gentle with yourself"



"Be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be - keep peace with your soul."
 
What did you write in your Christmas cards this year? What you write every year? Something about "all good wishes and we really must meet up in 2013"? In the midst of what we ironically call the "festive rush", precious sentiments and heartfelt wishes are rattled off like the proverbial Christmas shopping list.
In 1965, a prose poem called "The Desiderata", Latin for "Desired Things", became widely known as a devotional text, after being found by the death-bed of Adlai Stevenson II. Stevenson was a United States presidential candidate and a United Nations ambassador. He had planned to reproduce The Desiderata in his Christmas cards that year. He may have heard the text previously, when it was included in a compilation of devotionals in 1959 by the Reverend Kates, rector of St Paul's Church, Baltimore.
Written by American author and attorney Max Ehrmann in 1927, the text was largely unknown in his lifetime; he died in 1945. He would later be celebrated for his work; aside from The Desiderata, he often wrote on spiritual themes. The poem has been widely reproduced in poster form over the years, also featuring on many spoken-word recordings: people have often wrongly assumed that the text must be so old as to be beyond any copyright. In 1967, Leonard Nimoy, "Mr Spock" himself, recited the poem on his "Star Trek" themed album; he titled the track "Spock's Thoughts".

If I could send a Christmas card to anyone who has read this little blog since February, these are the words I would reproduce: these are the finest sentiments I could wish for you, whatever the season. Perhaps most poignantly at this time of year, amidst the hustle of shopping and decorating, gifting and anticipating, the awesome preening and the whole exhausting business of having fun, we need to remember "what peace there may be in silence".Every line of this poem resonates with me, I find it achingly beautiful: I hope you will receive it with the kind intent with which it is wished for each one of you.
Max Ehrmann is buried in his hometown of Terre Haute, Indiana. In 2010, he was honoured there with a life-sized statue bronze, which features him sat on a bench down-town, with his trusty pen and notebook. The Desiderata is engraved on a plaque next to the sculpture. What a gift, at any time of year, to have given voice (and subsequently thousands of voices) to the tender wisdom that the soul is capable of and was intended for.


*Passer-by, stranger or friend: I pray that you've had a kind Christmas and that you look forward to a brave New Year*




"The Desiderata"
(Max Ehrmann)
Go placidly amidst the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul.

With all its shams, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.


"Silent Night"  Stevie Nicks



"Whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should."



Monday 24 December 2012

Ramon and the dragonflies


"One of the most beautiful gifts in the world is the gift of encouragement. When someone encourages you, that person helps you over a threshold you might otherwise never have crossed on your own."
(John O'Donohue)



Ramon E. Kinkade became my friend online after reading my blog, within the very first weeks of me putting fingertip to keyboard. A seasoned blogger himself, he loved the written word, music, dance, photography and other artistry. I realised pretty quickly that being online had opened up a new world for him following chronic illness. I also learned that he was lively-minded and passionate about many things, especially his family and his Scottish heritage: he told me he was arranging a trip to from his native Indiana to Scotland next year for a reunion of the Kinkade Clan.
He frequently mentioned his sons, his "boys", and Sharon, his beloved wife of forty nine years; he was obviously a born romantic and a proud dad and grandfather. Among his many achievements, he had that particular talent for friendship, a generosity of spirit. He read the post I wrote about my parents' love story and said he was touched; he prayed that I would be found by a decent man who believed in God and who would also believe in me and help me to believe in myself...

He said he felt I had unseen and unspoken links with the States and hoped I would visit one day. He encouraged me to carry on writing and pondered why I wasn't working on a newspaper or magazine - I wish, Ramon! When I admitted to him that I was feeling despondent that the blog wasn't known by more people, he assured me that he and Sharon really enjoyed reading my little paeans or tirades, depending on mood. He told me that if only one person thought I had written the best book in the world, then I had definitely written one of the best books in the world.
I was shocked when he eventually mentioned his longstanding health problems: Ramon was not only a glass-half-full kinda guy; his glass was one of nectar. Online, his signature "totem" was a dragonfly; I asked him why only recently. He told me that he had been out rowing with his mother when he was a small lad and had seen a dragonfly for the first time. He watched, fascinated, as the dragonfly lava, the "nymph" split it's skin to emerge as an exotic but friendly looking creature, glimmering in the sunlight.
Most of a dragonfly's life is spent in the nymph form, beneath water, with the larval stage lasting as long as four or five years for larger creatures. The lava begins to breath when exposed to air. The skin splits, the adult dragonfly crawls out, pumps up it's two pairs of wings and flies off. The dragonfly's adult life may be comparatively short, five or six months, but it is certainly brilliant. The dragonfly in flight can propel itself in six directions; upward, downward, forward, back, and side to side. Ramon himself had been an aircraft repairman and was a private pilot; one of his boys is now an airline pilot. Ramon told me that although they were not usually good walkers, dragonflies are among the fastest creatures on earth, with larger insects reaching flight speeds of up to 60 miles per hour. Often incredibly beautiful and intricately marked, they've long been a symbol of life beyond death in many cultures.
A huge lover of nature, Ramon enjoyed raising pigeons and other birds; one son is now a professional breeder. I've also discovered that he skated professionally and had been a professionally instructor; all three of his boys won state competitions in artistic dance. He certainly encouraged his sons in artistic pursuits as well as the athletics which he himself excelled in. And he encouraged me that every situation could be reinterpreted, that beauty and joy were everywhere, that strangers really could be friends you just hadn't met yet.

I will never meet Ramon in person now. His family contacted all his online friends last week to say that Ramon had passed away on 9th December, from complications arising from CPOD (Chronic Pulmonary Obstructive Disease). Lucid and caring to his last breath, Ramon asked his family to contact his online community and told them what they should say: "His interests in life survive".
This blog will be a year old on 15th February 2013: my blogger friendship with Ramon was brief but I was moved that anything I wrote coold touch a man with such a vibrantly resounding and colour-filled life. I was going to close the blog after a year due to disillusionment but I feel I might just keep it open now. I feel a lot of things now might just happen; they might not all be disastrous or distressing. Among other people, Ramon has convinced me that I should write if and what I want to; if someone, anyone likes it or finds it moving or interesting, then that's the icing on my own homemade cake.
Ramon sent his friends music links, across all the genres and decades. I discovered that we both loved the Israel Kamakawiwo'le merged version of two classically uplifting songs; and it is indeed a wonderful world full of wonderful people and creatures
.

 *Rest well Ramon and may your flight be sure and safe*





"The Dragonfly"
(Louise Bogan)
You are made of almost nothing,
But of enough
To be great eyes
And diaphanous double vans;
To be ceaseless movement,
Unending hunger,
Grappling love.
Link between water and air,
Earth repels you.
Light touches you only to shift into iridescence
Upon your body and wings.
Twice-born, predator,
You split into the heat.
Swift beyond calculation or capture
You dart into the shadow
Which consumes you.
You rocket into the day,
But at last, when the wind flattens the grasses,
For you, the design and purpose stop.
And you fall
With the other husks of summer.



                               

"Somewhere Over The Rainbow / What a Wonderful World"  Israel Kamakawiwo'le
 
"Inspiration is always a surprising visitor."
(John O'Donohue)




Monday 17 December 2012

With a beneficient eye





"Treat the earth well;
it was not given to you by your parents,
it was loaned to you by your children." 
(Native American proverb)

I'm indebted to the lovely Anne, who has enabled me to slip a post in before Christmas which includes a gorgeous Native American blessing, my favourite version of one of the most beautiful tunes ever and an excuse to mention Jimmy Stewart. Yes, that Jimmy Stewart.
Anne is apparently a little bit Cherokee and a little bit Iroquois as well as being a lot of Oirish. She's a ginger too; I like to think that her particular genetic blend means she likes the wearing of the feathers when she's in a good mood but will surely spit some when she's rattled. She enjoyed the post on here about the feast of Thanksgiving and has sent me a beautiful Iroquois prayer and the "Sacred Instructions", holy commandments really, which the Native American people believe were handed down from the Great Spirit at the time of the Creation. I'm very drawn to the Native American heritage and beliefs which have a richness as well as a simplicity; I've added a couple of my own favourite sayings here, I hope Anne won't mind.

Her mother's ancestors lived in West Virginia, home of the Blue Ridge Mountains, the Shenandoah River and it's valley, Appalachian bluegrass music. Yet another place I've long romanticised in my head and feel in my heart that I will still find a way to. The name "Shenandoah" is of unspecified Native American origin. It may have evolved from the Iroquois word for "Big Meadow", but probably the most popular belief is that it derives from a Native American expression for "Beautiful Daughters of the Stars", referring to the flow and tides of the Shenandoah River itself. 
The song "Oh Shenandoah" became popular with slaves and also with sailors as a sea shanty in the mid 1800s. Some folk believe the lyrics tell the story of a European trader in love with the daughter of an Indian Chief; others, of a Confederate soldier dreaming of his country home: Virginia was a key region during the American Civil War. I favour the theory that the singer is expressing his love for the moods of the great river itself: "Oh Shenandoah, I love your daughters". There are so many lovely versions of the song, but Van Morrison's with the Chieftains is especially epic and really tugs at my heartstrings.
The song features throughout my favourite Western, also called "Shenandoah"starring Jimmy Stewart as the widowed patriarch of a large Virginian family. Inspite of my mistrust and dislike of guns, I have a soft spot for some of the valiant, big-country, old cowboy films; and my old cowboy of choice would be Jimmy Stewart. The film is wonderfully evocative, essentially anti-war, pro-family and pro-faith. Native American faith finds Spirit in all things, all creatures and the elements. The Great Spirit, God, is viewed as the eternal animating force of the universe; therefore, there is divinity within everyone and everything in the universe. Thanks and praise have traditionally been offered to the crops harvested and the wildlife hunted for food and the unseen spirit world is ever-present.
Thank you for the prayer Anne; have a blessed and peaceful Christmas.


"Iroquois Prayer"
"We return thanks to our mother, the earth, for sustaining us.
We return thanks to the rivers and streams, which supply us with water. 
We return thanks to all herbs, which furnish medicines for our care. 
We return thanks to the corn, and to her sisters the beans and squashes, which give us life. 
We return thanks to the wind, which has moved the the air to banish all ills. 
We return thanks to the moon and the stars, which have given us their light when the sun sleeps. 
We return thanks to the sun, that looks upon the earth with a beneficent eye. 
Lastly, we return thanks to the Great Spirit, in whom is embodied all goodness, who directs all things for the good of his children."



Sacred Instructions
Take care of Mother Earth and of all the other colours of man. 
Respect Mother Earth through all creation. 
Honour and support all life. 
 Be grateful for your life, and your survival.  
Love long and well, and express that love. 
Be humble. Humility is the gift of wisdom and understanding. 
Be kind with one's self as with others. 
Be honest with one's self and with others. 
Be responsible for these sacred instructions and share them with other nations.



"Certain things catch your eye,
But pursue only those
that capture your heart"
(Cherokee proverb)

"The sun would have no rainbows if the eyes had no tears"
(Cherokee)

"If you must beg, knock only at large gates"
(Native American)

"Lose your temper and lose a friend, lie and you lose yourself"
(Apache proverb)


"Oh Shenandoah"  Van Morrison and The Chieftains



"The dead live on, in the hearts of those they live behind"
(Apache saying)

"May your mocassins make happy tracks in many snows,
and may the rainbow always be at your shoulder" 
(Cherokee blessing) 



"Yup"

Sunday 16 December 2012

The hour of grace we seek

"Tempus ad est gratiae, 
Hoc quod optabamus" 
("Now is the time of grace that we have longed for", from "Gaudete")

"What good is it that Christ was born 2,000 years ago if he is not born now in your heart?"
(Meister Eckhart)

This Sunday marks the third week of Advent. For much of the Christian Church’s history, it’s had a special name: “Gaudete Sunday". The traditions surrounding this Sunday go back as far as the 4th or 5th centuries, as does the Season of Advent itself. Advent, our preparation for Christmas, was originally a forty day penitential season, like Lent, something I only recently became aware of. “Gaudete Sunday” was the Advent counterpart to “ Laetrile Sunday,” which marked the mid-point in Lent.
On Gaudete Sunday, Advent shifts its focus, marked by a lighter mood and a heightened sense of joyous anticipation. The liturgical colours lighten as well. The priest usually wears rose-pink vestments, seen only on Gaudete and Laetare Sundays. On this day, we light the third candle of the Advent wreath, which is also rose-coloured, rather than purple.
The word “Gaudete” is Latin for “Rejoice.” In times such as these when the news is so grim, we might wonder where on earth, or elsewhere, God is. I hope we can still stop, in the midst of the trauma of late Christmas shopping and trying to work extra hours and the seasonal extended family complications, to take a breath and draw some comfort and peace from the simplicity of the first Christmas. Time to remember what a "gift" really is: what giving really implies; the huge part of receiving that is acceptance; that we can give and receive with good grace.

See, still there x


     "Gaudete" Steeleye Span


Saturday 15 December 2012

Massacre of the Innocents



The Massacre of the Innocents is a biblical narrative of infanticide, perpetrated by Herod the Great, appointed "King of the Jews" by the Romans. According to Matthew's gospel, Herod ordered the execution of all male babies and small children in and around the village of Bethlehem, to avoid losing his crown to a newborn Messiah. The Feast of the Holy Innocents is commemorated by most Christian churches on 28th December; many recognise these murdered babies as the first Christian martyrs.
Set in the heartland of New England, Connecticut is often called "The Constitution State"; it's colonial constitution of 1639 was the first in America, arguably the world. Yesterday, two weeks before the Feast of the Holy Innocents, and within sight of Christmas Day, twenty children between the ages of five and ten were among twenty eight people killed in the USA's most recent mass murder by an individual with firearms. The infants and their teachers at the Sandy Hook Elementary School, Newtown, Connecticut, were shot by a gunman just out of his teens. He was armed with at least three guns owned legally by his mother under the state's gun laws, apparently among the tightest in the USA today. A former pupil and a familiar face, he was "buzzed in" through the school's security system. His mother was a supply teacher at the school; he had already shot her and would later turn a gun on himself.
Last night, President Obama called for "meaningful action" on gun crime. The United States has about five percent of the total world population but her citizens own more than forty percent of the world's civilian-owned firearms. Repeatedly, polling has shown that a majority of Americans believe their constitution ensures their right to own a gun. 

This will be, for me, a short post. An unloaded gun may be viewed as a collectible, a piece of craftsmanship; a loaded gun may be called a deterrent, or protection, although some will only ever see a deterrent as a challenge. Guns are seriously purpose built, to fire at a target. We may never fully know why a twenty year old guy decided to kill innocents at his local school yesterday. But we know how he did it.
May they rest in peace.



"America is a country founded on guns. It's in our DNA."
(Brad Pitt)

"There is no flag large enough to cover the shame of killing innocent people."
(Howard Zinn)

"There is no foot too small that it cannot leave an imprint on this world."
(Kari Lynn)

"Abide With Me" Emeli Sande