Gaps

Since I moved from Pennsylvania to Ohio in my twenties, and then to Michigan the fall before I turned 30, I still make a point of going "home" on a regular basis. Sometimes when I was still single I rode the bus, but since I've married and had kids it's been a driving visit. The quickest route (though not the cheapest or most scenic) is to head south on I-94/I-75 and then head east on the Ohio Turnpike. If you've never driven on the Turnpike, let me explain that on the entrance ramp you are issued a ticket stamped with the time and date, and the point of entry. When you exit this ticket is used to determine your toll, based (roughly) on the distance you have driven.

Many, even perhaps most, people get on at one city in Ohio and exit at another. But since my destination is Pennsylvania, my experience is different, since the Ohio Turnpike feeds directly into the Pennsylvania Turnpike (with similar toll policies). I don't take an exit, I merely pass through a toll plaza. (LOTR fans will appreciate that it's called Eastgate.) Then, for a distance of about 5 miles, I am in what my kids dubbed "no man's land." I've paid my Ohio toll (but I'm still in Ohio), I haven't yet hit the Pennsylvania toll plaza or even the state line, but there is literally nowhere to go but straight ahead, since there are no exits in this stretch. ("We cannot get out!") But since my destination lies a number of hours ahead in Pennsylvania, I don't want to exit. I keep going, cross the state line, stop at the Pennsylvania plaza, and eventually finish my trip.

All this is by way of introduction to the real point of this post, my feelings during this next week. Today we "pass" Christ the King Sunday, the endpoint of the liturgical year. Advent, the start of a new year,doesn't begin until next Sunday. So I often feel adrift in a calendar no-man's-land. True, there is Thanksgiving to celebrate, but it's not a liturgical holiday. (Black Friday, the secular celebration of consumption, is something I avoid if at all possible.) But there are no exits from the expressway of life in this world, so all I really need to do is "stay on the road", keep passing landmarks, and eventually I will get to my final goal!

Sometimes Sundays are a Mixed Bag

So did you guys know that "a mixed bag" is actually a British hunting term? You might "bag a brace(pair) of pheasants," or if you shot a pheasant and a quail and a grouse, that would be a "mixed bag." Get it?

I got up early this morning (well, early for a Sunday, anyway) and made a cherry pie and a chicken pot-pie for Roger's birthday dinner. His birthday is actually tomorrow, but we celebrated today because it's more fun to have more than two people at a birthday party, and Branwen and her family were here.

Larry made his famous hash-browns for breakfast as a birthday treat, because most Sundays cooking breakfast is Roger's job. They were, as usual, awesome! Then choir sang at 11:30 mass, and unfortunately we were not in best form. Our best soprano AND main tenor had laryngitis and didn't come, some of us (me included) spaced out on just how we had "arranged" the communion hymn, and I at least felt like we couldn't really hear each other. Kind of like a big blob of fog had descended on our ears. The family assures me it "wasn't that bad," but it wasn't that good, either.

While we were waiting for the pot-pie to bake we played some bridge, which was somewhat interrupted because baby Lauren had gas and needed to be held. And then we had dinner and pie, and Branwen's family went home. And now I'm sitting at my computer writing a post, and while I'm not sure what all I have in the "bag" that's today, I know it's certainly mixed! See you all here tomorrow......

"Spiritual Sunday" -- Warning, I'm going to talk about religion!

As a non-Catholic who spends a lot of time in Catholic churches (since Roger and all the kids are Catholic, and I sing in the choir,) I also spend a fair amount of time wondering why Catholics -- whose doctrine claims that "the fullness of the faith subsists in the Catholic Church" -- mostly spend more time thinking about the pancake breakfast, or the school fundraiser, or landscaping the parish grounds, than they do about who God is and what He wants them to do. [There are notable counter-examples, both individuals and parishes, but I'm speaking of the general run of things.]

Even though since Vatican II personal Bible study has been not only allowed but actively encouraged, many more people show up for the card party than for the study group. And the ones who do show up mostly want to be told what the Bible says, rather than reading it and experiencing it for themselves. As a mainline Protestant turned Evangelical turned I-don't-know-what-the-heck-you'd-call-me-except-it-isn't-Catholic, this mystifies me. Why would somebody not want to hear God's voice?

All this by way of bringing up what I did this afternoon: went to an introductory session for a women's study group my parish is trying to start. They are planning on using the ENDOW (Educating on the Nature and Dignity Of Women) program, and personally, I find it awesome. But -- forty women showed up for the intro, and maybe eight signed up for more information. I'm one of them, because I believe I'm supposed to be. But -- two hours EVERY Sunday right after 11:30 mass? For two or three months? Do Catholics only study on Sundays? (Humor me ; I know the answer to that, and I'm just venting.)

Anyway, from everything I've seen and read, anybody who bothers to do the ENDOW program will gain a lot. I just wish I thought a lot of people will do it.......

(We now return to our regularly-scheduled inane ramblings.)

Vale, Alleluia!

Today is the last Sunday before Lent. Depending on your tradition, it may be called "Last Epiphany", "Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time", or probably some things I've never heard. I grew up calling it "Quinquagesima", which roughly means "Sunday within 50 days of Easter." At any rate, in the more-liturgical Christian denominations this is the last Sunday until Easter on which "Alleluia" can be sung or said as part of the mass/service/liturgy. I even have heard of places where all the special music for Easter had to be fully rehearsed by today (well, OK, by Tuesday) because nobody was allowed to even practice songs containing Alleluia between Ash Wednesday and Easter.

I don't know of anybody today who is quite that stringent, but I do like the custom of saying Farewell ("Vale" in Latin) to Alleluias by tossing a good number of them into the music for Quinquagesima. My favorite case of this was a couple of years ago when we happened to hit this Sunday at Arwen's parish. Alleluias were liberally distributed through all the songs, capped by Song of Thanks, in which the chorus consists of "Alleluia" repeated sixteen times. Since it also has six verses (and they sang all of them) and starts with the chorus, that was 112 of them. Almost enough to last me till Easter!

Unfortunately, in my current parish the music director -- although a wonderful and talented person -- is a convert not raised in any church, liturgical or otherwise. The rhythms of the church year are not something that come naturally to her. So the only Alleluias the choir sang this weekend were in the Gospel Acclaimation. (It was a good long one.) So I'll sing some to myself these next two days, and then reluctantly bid farewell to Alleluia. Until Easter!

"Spiritual Sunday #5" -- Advent Begins

So this is fitting, I guess. It is the beginning of Advent, and the end of NaBloPoMo. Although only one of those things obviously fits my theme of the day, actually they both do. Because I started this blog, and have done NaBloP, as a friend calls it, for two years now, as part of a self-and-God devised plan of self-discipline and growth.

When I turned 50 (in early 2001) I took a look at my life, and all the things I was going to do "someday", and decided that I had better get started. Some of them were purely physical, like a regular exercise routine. Some of them were purely spiritual, like daily Scripture and prayer, and a several-times-a-week spiritual journal. Some of them were in between.

I don't mean to imply that at 50 I suddenly became fully disciplined. I don't think I'm better than average even yet. But each year or so I've been able to add -- and stick to -- something. Currently my "weekly disciplines chart" has lines for ten different things I need to do, with check boxes for each day of the week, and projected goals. (I only "have" to walk four days a week, though sometimes I do five. And this week I didn't walk at all, to rest an injured knee.) And one of those things is blogging.

According to the chart I'm supposed to blog (or write an extended letter or email to somebody) at least twice a week. I haven't been entirely successful. But I stuck with NaBloP, and came up with daily themes, and that gives me hope for the next year. And I'd say I'm about 93% successful in my spiritual disciplines, which have observably made me a better and more godly person. (My kids will tell you they were very pleasantly surprised over Thanksgiving, when none of the stresses and disasters led to a melt-down on my part. Even I was surprised.)

So NaBloP is over and Advent begins, a season when Christians traditionally search and prepare their hearts to celebrate again the Lord's coming. Since I won't be posting here tomorrow (unless it's a snow day, which may happen,) I'll leave you with a hymn which both lifts my spirits and encourages me to do just that.

People Look East
words by Eleanor Farjeon

1. People, look east. The time is near
Of the crowning of the year.
Make your house fair as you are able,
Trim the hearth and set the table.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the guest, is on the way.

2. Furrows, be glad. Though earth is bare,
One more seed is planted there:
Give up your strength the seed to nourish,
That in course the flower may flourish.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the rose, is on the way.

3. Birds, though you long have ceased to build,
Guard the nest that must be filled.
Even the hour when wings are frozen
God for fledging time has chosen.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the bird, is on the way.

4. Stars, keep the watch. When night is dim
One more light the bowl shall brim,
Shining beyond the frosty weather,
Bright as sun and moon together.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the star, is on the way.

5. Angels, announce with shouts of mirth
Christ who brings new life to earth.
Set every peak and valley humming
With the word, the Lord is coming.
People, look east and sing today:
Love, the Lord, is on the way.

(If the tune is unfamiliar, the MIDI is here.)

"Spiritual Sunday"#4 -- Christ the King!

This is one of my favorite feasts of the church year; as I said last week, even though it's still technically ordinary time, I feel like it has a season all its own. That's probably influenced by the fact that I love so many of the hymns and songs that speak of Christ's Kingship. So you get some today, and more tomorrow.

This first one is supposedly quintessentially Catholic, but frankly I can't see why. Follow this link and listen to the MIDI; the tune makes it even better.

To Jesus Christ, our Sovereign King
To Jesus Christ, our Sov'reign King,
Who is the world's salvation,
All praise and homage do we bring,
And thanks and adoration.

Refrain:
Christ Jesus Victor, Christ Jesus Ruler!
Christ Jesus, Lord and Redeemer!

2. Thy reign extend, O King benign,
To ev'ry land and nation,
For in Thy kingdom, Lord divine,
Alone we find salvation.
(Refrain)

3. To Thee and to Thy Church, great King,
We pledge our hearts' oblation,
Until before Thy throne we sing,
In endless jubilation.
(Refrain)

Then there's this one, that really goes better with guitars. But it's so peppy I'll sing it however I can. (I know, I know, it's been a subject of scorn ever since Stephen Colbert did a distinctly odd version last year. But I can't help it -- I knew it first.)

The King of Glory

Refrain The King of glory comes, the nation rejoices. Open the gates before him, lift up your voices
.
1. Who is the King of glory; how shall we call him? He is Emmanuel, the promised of ages.

2. In all of Galilee, in city or village, He goes among his people curing their illness.

3. Sing then of David’s Son, our Savior and brother; In all of Galilee was never another

4. He gave his life for us, the pledge of salvation, He took upon himself the sins of the nation.

5. He conquered sin and death; he truly has risen, And he will share with us his heavenly vision.


I'd like to post a picture, too, but the only one I really like is here, and I can't seem to get it inserted. All glory to Christ the King!!

"Spiritual Sunday" #3 -- end of Ordinary Time

Technically, of course, ordinary time doesn't end until the First Sunday in Advent, which this year is November 30th. But because the last Sunday of ordinary time has a specific name (the feast of Christ the King), and because the "ordinary" refers not to "usual" but to "numbered" (see the link), I have a tendency to see these weeks as a little island of their own, past ordinary time (today is the 33rd Sunday) but not quite into the new liturgical year.

This feeling is aided, of course, by the purely political and increasingly secular holiday of Thanksgiving, which falls during these weeks. It is sad that Thanksgiving has strayed so far from its roots, and become a day mostly of family, food, and football. None of these things are bad, and even secularists tend to spend at least a couple of minutes thinking about what they are thankful for, but the concept of being thankful to Somebody Who provided these things seems to be missing.

So here I sit, in my little self-made no-times'-land, and think about the NEW coming: a new Thanksgiving to be thankful with family; a new liturgical year of celebrating the high glories and low humiliations of Christ's life and our salvation; a new chronological year with all it will bring (including a new grandchild); probably a new place to live, if the government ever finalizes the details of the planned buyout. New things to read, new recipes to try, new music to sing.

In general I, anxiety-prone as I am, am radically and often grumpily change-averse. But today, somehow, it just looks NEW. Bring it on!

Spiritual Sunday #2 -- Week of Feasts

This particular week in the liturgical year is chock full of feasts! Today was the celebration of the Dedication of the Church of St. John Lateran, which is one of the few liturgical events that takes precedence over Sunday . Monday is St. Leo the Great; Tuesday -- St. Martin of Tours; Wednesday -- St. Josaphat; Thursday-- St. Frances Xavier Cabrini. Friday is an ordinary day. Saturday morning celebrates St. Albert the Great, but the evening is trumped by Evening Prayer I of Sunday. (I deliberately mixed it up on all those links; there's a lot of other good stuff Google-able.)

But I don't especially want to talk about these particular celebrations. What I really want to stress is the advantage of having a liturgical year at all, with celebrations that come around on a predictable basis.

Although my husband and kids are all Catholic, and you probably can't tell it from this blog (:-D), I'm not. (The whole story is for another time, maybe.) Anyway, although not raised Catholic, I was raised in a church with a liturgical tradition. Advent is followed by Christmas is followed by Epiphany is followed by Lent is followed by Easter is followed by Pentecost is followed by summer (OK, we were a little sloppy!) and repeat. There were special things about each season, things to look forward to each year. And over the course of three years you were exposed to pretty much every story and theme of scripture.

When I went off to college, and later when I lived in Ohio, the evangelical groups I belonged to had a less specific year. Christmas and Easter, yes, but the rest not so much. And I missed it. It's harder to celebrate the spiritual side of Christmas when you haven't spent four weeks preparing your hear. (It's also easier to slip into the cultural/materialistic rut that had carols playing in Wal-Mart the day after Hallowe'en. I know Thanksgiving is a secular holiday, but come on, cut me a break!

I also missed Lent, strange as it sounds. When you haven't been fasting, or "giving up something for Lent" as I did as a child, or both, then the feast becomes less significant. In fact, if you never fast, a literal feast becomes just dinner. I wonder if some of the obesity epidemic is traceable to the idea that every day is a feast?

So when Roger returned to the Catholic church, and the kids joined him, I plunged back into the liturgical cycle with joy. And adding saints' days just added to the joy. No matter how you feel about declaring somebody "officially" a saint, those who have gone before us in the faith are worth celebrating. Also, it's very helpful. When an older friend in the choir tells me that she's not really just "Mary", but "Maria Magdalena" because of the day she was born, I can hit the liturgical calendar and know to send her a card on July 22!

"Spiritual Sunday "#1 -- All Souls' Day

Yesterday was for All Saints (and that includes a great many who have not been proclaimed as such by any religious authority.) Today (as opposed to yesterday's ringing "Alleluia!") is more solemn. Today, we remember, with the prayers for the dead, all souls, even those for whom on the human scale we see little or no chance of redemption in the age to come. Hitler. Nero. Crabby Uncle Henry who scoffed when Aunt Marta took the kids to church, because "that's jest a buncha stupid stuff fer dang fool wimmen."

And yet -- God is love. His love surpasses ours so greatly that we really can't understand it. And He "takes no pleasure in the death of the wicked". (ref Ezekiel 18:23) Certainly some are condemned, or rather condemn themselves by their choices and actions. But since God is infinitely merciful and wise, we who are finite must leave such judgments to Him. And since He is outside time, our prayers for those who have gone ahead of us are never wasted, as we ask His mercy in the eternal NOW. And we pray for ourselves, that we may be numbered among the saints at His right hand, our faults and failings notwithstanding. Lord, show us Your mercy! Amen.