part one: O Antiphons...a day late...

In the weavings of a mystical web page, whose threads of inspiration include Julian of Norwich and a modern day poet, a treasure of 'O Antiphons' was grace-fully stumbled upon.

They are not as mysterious as they seem. Most, if not all of us, already know the 'O Antiphons' through the almost universally familiar Advent hymn, O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, with its verses all beginning with the same impassioned plea, "O Come..." (Here, a beautiful and concise webpage on the Antiphons.)

There are seven "O Antiphons", one for each of the seven days leading up to Christmas Eve. They are, in fact, chanted this way in many corners of the world, as singular statements, chained together in time, out of time...defining a season of waiting. December 17th would be the 'First Day of O Antiphons'. And, so, I'm a day late.

To follow, a post on each of the Antiphons, on the appropriate day. From the heart of poet, musician, and priest, Malcolm Guite, an interpretation of each antiphon will be included in the form of a sonnet. I think of it as a sort of seven-day Advent, or perhaps Emmanuel calendar gift from him.

Today, I rejoice: we'll be gifted with two - to catch up.

snow day...

I hear Fr. C playing the piano upstairs: Advent III hymns...the ones he won't get to sing this year.

From Saturday late night through Sunday afternoon, a dramatic storm delightfully dumped about two feet of snow on our town, bringing life to a winter wonderland standstill. The local television station announced church closures. Even the 'community mega-church' canceled ('They have no concept of the Lord's Day', Fr. C muttered)! Well, WE don't cancel...WE just can't come, was his profound proclamation.

So we proceeded to experience some elements of an 'ordinary Sunday' -- the norm for most in this country, but a never for us. In between snapping pictures of various stages of 'white' development, the dona de casa would make omelets. As I opened the carton of eggs purchased the prior afternoon at a Chicago Trader Joe's, the declaration on the inside jumped out at me: This is the day that the Lord hath made; let us rejoice and be glad in it!

And, so we did. Frosted with magical grace, even the chores of the day (OK...I didn't do much shoveling...) had a lightness about them.

Early morning island serenity...but there's "more" to come...

After snow blowing before 6am & showering, dressing:
still not going to church...and there's more to come...

Lucy pondering (lack of) backyard options...

The pre-6am work majorly undone...

Lucy leaped and loped through the backyard ('movie at 11')...

"Upholstery in white": Deck table and chairs, an eery and ghostly landscape.

Wait -- isn't that blob on the far right our Christmas Tree????

Lucy and I brave the snowy wind to walk in a truck's wake on the silent street...


Target boots save the day!

Jesus shops for sandals...

At BuyNothingChristmas.org, there is a marvelous tract - a tongue in cheek excursion with Jesus as he shops for sandals. Click here for the first page, and then 'next page-it' to the end.

This website's concept of drawing back from Christmas consumerism is something I found winning and persuasive last year. Still do! What really struck me this year, as I was again tickled by the tract and its invitation to see shopping through Jesus' eyes, was much more than the obvious and total inanity of Jesus shopping. This time, I read the comments and was just astounded at how people can take something so seriously and unimaginatively. And thereby miss the point. Talk about a plethora of suggestions as to what he should have done, with some complaints about 'blasphemy' (Jesus doesn't know how to pray). It's not about that! Yes, thankfully, some commenters got the point: 'Jesus shopping' does make us uncomfortable. He certainly wouldn't descend into the consumer mosh pit - then or now.

But to sum up a discomfort that stems from this: How strongly we feel we know exactly what Jesus wants, thinks, should do, should require us to do. The temptation is to treat Jesus like a super action figure that we can pose to fit our own purpose or foist onto others as a reflection of ourselves.

I've always been entranced by the concept of relationship...of 'hanging out', in a manner of speaking. Enjoying his presence without putting words in his mouth or needing to dissect something. No 'projecting' and making him in our own image. No squeezing him to fit a tangible mold. As humans, we love to pin something down and tear its wings and heart out. In great contrast, I recently heard a friend describe with awe and gratitude the discovery of 'just being' with Him...removing the shoes of our heart's feet and basking in awesome presence...and nothing more. Maybe then we can surpass all knowing or 'think-we-know'ing and find something truer than we though possible.

The mystics were great at this. May we take a lesson from them.

in or out? bixby in the driver's seat...again...

A pic from happier & warmer times...

Inspired by Catsinger's delightful, side-splitting and publishable 'Cat-mas Carols', here's a tribute to Bixby's evil- cute-ness, evidenced by a game of cat and mouse at the open doorway to our icy deck this morning. I thought he wanted out. And thus the drama began. (Bixby's comments/interruptions in...what else...orange...)

(Sung to the tune of Love, Look Away, from Flower Drum Song)

Bix, look away;
Bix, come away right now!
Move while I shut the door.
Move, or your a$$ is... MEOW*

Please do not play;
Please do not toy with me!
Frost forms upon my nose;
Toes, numb as they can be.

So nonchalant...
So 'in control'...
Twisting the knife,
Make me the fool.

Since you can see
It really matters to me.
Strrrrrrretching the point, she'll see!
Come away! Move away! What'd you say?
Meow-ME**

Translations:
* 'whatever'
** 'Geez...I'm really not sure... Actually can't commit on this. I'll give it some consideration and get (not) right back to you on it...

yup...it's advent...

It's Advent. Specifically, somewhere between the second and third Sundays of this approximately four week season. In our own hearts, household and lives we 'celebrate' this season. It's one of waiting, preparing...quietness, introspection...and, actually, some sense of penitential awareness and action.

Coming from a family where Christmas started on the day after Thanksgiving -- well, it took me some years to fully live into this time of 'Prepare ye the way of the Lord'. But assisted by a little 'push' from excessive December busy-ness, which made it pretty much impossible to do anything until after Advent IV, I've become a big fan.

Contrary to popular belief, the next season (Christmas!) doesn't begin 12 days before it. Nope. You don't get to the 12 drummers drumming until 11 days after The Day, making Christmas actually and not too surprisingly, the 'First day of Christmas'.

Discussion with friends who join us in this liturgical tradition sometimes involves bemoaning the fact that we don't live into the 12 days of Christmas fully and properly! Excessive, lengthy celebration is the hallmark of 'getting into the spirit'. After the long, dry wait...shouldn't we give a present on each and every day of the 12? And, as we haven't sung a single Christmas carol until Christmas Eve (or maybe Lessons & Carols if it falls late enough), shouldn't we sing our hearts out for days -- not just listening to CD's, but actually filling our lungs with air and joyfully caroling?

The true twelve days coincide with a period of time that most people think of as 'Christmas is over'. Without intentional Christmas celebration, I think we may not live beyond that and thus fall short. Any excessive ideas out there?

Advent resources:
St. Margaret Mary parish's simple, but lovely, daily advent calendar.
Finding God site's calendar -- more basic, but very thoughtful. A meditation with scripture links for each day.
BBC Radio's Bach Advent Calendar. It's all about Bach. But it has enchanting stories of his life. And the music played is appropriate for Advent.

(not) finding your true voice...

Google cracks me up. It 'reads' my gmails and supplies a list of interesting (translate: tempting) links off to the right, based on words and phrases used in an email I'm reading. Sometimes, it even eerily matches a 'concept'.

As I e-correspond with a number of friends and family who share a passion for a certain genre of music, I'm not surprised when I see 'National Cathedral Music', the Black Folder and Choral Charisma on the sidebar. But there's one in the bunch that just screams misfit: yourtruevoicestudio.com, where you are a click away from finding your talent. Hey -- apparently it's just like talking! Turn down your speakers if you click on this one. Screaming MeeMee's, GIVE ME A BREAK!!! Belting out your heart in imitation of the mass vocal cord murderers we see on the likes of American Idol has about as much to do with a beautifully floating, truly natural voice as Hershey's does to Green & Blacks. Take a cue from a group of women who can sing Javier Busto's Magnificat , complete with six incipits, and absolutely knock your socks off (I'm sure!).

Ahem. I guess yelling while singing is just not my bag.

completely undone...

A fortunate find: A custom invitation from a year ago. Hearts and talents, freely and generously given, together bring a dream to life. I am completely undone by the sweetness of all it connotes.

Art... sacred space...Anglican tradition...all united and involved...of one mind. The inscripted text inside combines all...singing sublimely, encapsulating the incarnate:

While all things were in quiet silence,
And that night was in the midst of her swift course,
Thine almighty Word leaped down from heaven
Out of thy royal throne. Alleluia.

Here, the hearts-standing-still setting by Ned Rorem.

TNCW

It's Tuna Noodle Casserole Week on Robyn's blog. Today -- 'making friends' with TNC variation.
Wow, did this bring back memories of children and friends in a small kitchen in the Pacific Northwest.

Mine started out with homemade macaroni and cheese. I can still see it smell it and almost taste it. Sizzling butter in a pan...blended with flour for a 'roux'...adding the milk, waiting for it to slightly thicken and then adding the piece d' resistance, grated Tillamook cheese (we were on 'WIC' in those days, and this exceptional cheese was on the list, i.e., free)...blending and cooking to make a sauce for elbow macaroni (how plebian!).

One day, I had some tuna & mayo, leftover from sandwiches. I dumped that in to the mac'n'cheese mosh pit (I've always used that term inappropriately. Just ask a certain choir). Then I would add frozen peas. Not sure where that came from. Hmmm...I'm channeling some kind of remembrance from my childhood -- ah, creamed tuna on toast. Well, maybe that included peas. But I doubt it. The peas are undoubtedly random.

I remember rather clearly a day with my young children and a few friends with their children. They requested the gourmet home made mac'n'cheese (though at that age, my kids begged for Kraft...). And when I made it without tuna and peas, they were taken aback and insisted I 'make it the right way'.

That was an eye opener. I never thought of it as anything but 'the kitchen sink' and really couldn't believe they craved the concoction.

Ah, the flavors of the past beckon. I could go on...with homemade custard (made with honey) - oh so good, still warm from the oven... mashed avocado on buttered whole wheat toast with grated onion and salt on top... fried egg sandwiches topped with red onions sauteed in butter, with one piece of bread heavily buttered and the other heavily mayo'd...

In this pre-Thanksgiving week, it's easy to crave the poison 'comfort' food one grows up with. But -- more about poisons mom fed us, later.

OMG. Cooks.com has an actual recipe for tuna and peas on toast.

Moments musicale... part trois...

Once again, Dave* plays something from Amelie, this time, "La Noyee". This particular video was in the #1 spot on YouTube UK homepage. Wow. Over a half a million 'views'. (Note the MySpace address at the end)



This young man is an incredible and formidable talent. Click on the picture to go to his blog.

Thanks, Dave. We'll be watching your bright future, gleaming with the promise of uncompromising heart and uncontainable talent. An excerpt from his blog speaks to the former:

"So many of you have shown a great interest and belief in me, so many of you have said such wonderful things about my playing, so many of you share with me this one common love for the sheer beauty of Yann Tiersen's music.. how it touches us through shivers, like a gentle breath on skin... how it mourns to our hearts, like nothing save the tears of a child... wistful, innocent, true."

*Ah, all grown up, looking more mature. And his room is clean (just joking...if he did clean it, he really didn't have to...). If I were fourteen, I'd be madly in love and daydreaming about running off with him. Of course, I felt the same way about Paul McCartney, and look where that got me...

episcopal cafe...

From the Diocese of Washington's Episcopal Cafe website: their Meditations page. I especially appreciated 'O Gracious Light', a slide show of cathedral stained glass reflections. The accompanying music is lovely. (Yet, it might have been nice to have an actual 'Phos Hilaron' sung!)