"The Proclamation of the Birth of Christ"

"Today, the twenty-fifth day of December
Unknown ages from the time when God created the heavens and the earth
And then formed man and woman in his own image.
Several thousand years after the flood,
When God made the rainbow shine forth as a sign of the covenant.
Twenty-one centuries from the time of Abraham and Sarah;
Thirteen centuries after Moses led the people of Israel out of Egypt.
Eleven hundred years from the time of Ruth and the Judges;
One thousand years from the anointing of David as king;
In the sixty-fifth week according to the prophecy of Daniel.
In the one hundred and ninety-fourth Olympiad;
The seven hundred and fifty-second year from the foundation of the city of Rome.
The forty-second year of the reign of Octavian Augustus;
The whole world being at peace,
Jesus Christ, eternal God and Son of the eternal Father,
Desiring to sanctify the world by his most merciful coming,
Being conceived by the Holy Spirit,
And nine months having passed since his conception,
Was born in Bethlehem of Judea of the Virgin Mary.
Today is the nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ according to the flesh."

From The Roman Martyrology

Prayer for Christmas

From church this morning:

O God, our Father,

As I anticipate Christmas morning, save me from these thoughts and feelings that only succeed in making life wretched and unhappy for everyone.

Save me from foolish discontent, and help me at all times to do the best I can with the resources I have.

Save me from the envy that forgets to count its own blessing, because it thinks so much of the blessings of others.

Save me from the jealousy that grudges others every gift and every success.

Save me from vain regrets about things that cannot be altered, and give me grace to accept the situation where I am, and there to serve You with my whole heart.

Save me from the bitterness that poisons life for myself and others.

So grant that, cleansed from self and cleansed from sin, I may bring joy to others and contentment to myself through Jesus Christ our Lord, whose birth we celebrate on this wonderful day.

Amen.

--Adapted from William Barclay

Saying yes; saying no

It's a common scenario: someone calls to ask if you will do something. It may be a request to be parent manager for your daughter's soccer team or on the long-range planning committee of your church or to bring brownies to the neighborhood party or to speak at a professional meeting. What do you say? Yes? No? 

The book study group in my neighborhood discussed these very sorts of questions yesterday. For the last couple weeks we've been reading Practicing Our F aith: A Way of Life for a Searching People, edited by Dorothy Bass. The chapter we discussed yesterday was titled "Saying Yes and Saying No," by M. Shawn Copeland.

Copeland writes, "The choices and decisions we make have consequences. [For example], [w]hen a student registers for a college course, she or he rules out the other courses offered at the same time...Saying yes and saying no are companions in the process of constitutiong a whole and holy life." She continues, "Learning when and how, to what, and to whom to give our yes and our no is a lifelong project. It is learning to live not merely in dull balance or tedious moderation but in passionate, disciplined choice and action. It is learning to find support and challenge, courage and correction, as we live out our choices. Sustaining and realizing our yes from day to day is only possible when negative and destructive behaviors are supplanted by positive and generative ones, when we redeem the routines of our daily lives, when we choose and carry out commitments that give and support life. Prayer, examination of conscience, and participation in small communities are three acts that can help us in this practice."

Copeland generously provides some questions for reflection to help us more wisely choose our yes's and our no's. Here are several:

• Do I understand that each choice I make influences the choices I can make in the future?
• Do I understand that in saying yes to every invitation or opportunity, every task or assignment, I limit the possibilities for my growth in other areas?
• Am I afraid that saying no may require me to give up more than I had bargained for, or to grow in unfamiliar ways?
• Do I have adequate spiritual nourishment or emotional support for the yes I seek to say?
• What kind of person am I making of myself in my daily decisions?

Pray-er and prayee

A phone call from a friend last night and her telling me of how she prays every day for each member of my family reminded me of how grateful I am for the living and breathing community of saints, but it also humbled me because it reminded me of how I am so easily distracted in prayer and fail to pray about what I intend to pray about.

“I throw myself down in my chamber and call in and invite God and His angels thither, and when they are there I neglect God and His angels for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for the whining of a door. I talk in the same posture of praying, eyes lifted up, knees bowed down, as though I prayed to God, and if God or angels should ask me when I thought last of God in that prayer I cannot tell. Sometimes I find that I had forgot what I was about, but when I began to forget it I cannot tell. A memory of yesterday’s pleasures, a fear of tomorrow’s dangers, a straw under my knee, a noise in mine ear, a light in mine eye, an anything, a nothing, a fancy, a chimera in my brain troubles me in my prayer.”
--John Donne

Travel truths by Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Two of my favorite travel quotes are by Anne Morrow Lindbergh from her journal volume Hour of Gold, Hour of Lead (1929-1932). They never fail to be true for me, even when applied to the quick back-and-forth trip I took last weekend.

“Is there anything as horrible as starting on a trip?," wrote Lindbergh, "Once you’re off, that’s all right, but the last moments are earthquake and convulsion, and the feeling that you are a snail being pulled off your rock.” In preparation for a trip of less than 48 hours I like to imagine myself just throwing a few things into a fashionable tote, turning out the lights, putting on my sunglasses, and stepping into the car. It never happens that way, however. Not for a 2-week trip, not for a 36-hour trip. The details are endless: Who in my family needs what before I go? Is the dog accounted for? Do I have cash? Has the phone voice mail been set? Do I have clothes for colder than/warmer than/wetter than predicted weather? Have I packed my contact solution? Was the garbage taken out? Did I get a replacement to help at such and so activity? Is there gas in the car? Why is that warning light blinking? And so on and so on.

Lindbergh continued, “It is strange, but the minute I got on the train and left I felt utterly different. I think one’s feelings and thoughts, the real true deep ones, are better focused when you get away because they are detached from their stale associations: one’s desk and room and bed and mirror. They become clear and just themselves, the way colors of a sunset or a birch grove seen upside down become clearer, because the colors are disassociated from their familiar forms. Do you see what I mean?” Yes, I see what she means. I experience it most times I travel. To be out from the four walls that frame my office and out from in front of the computer screen transforms the world and seems to lift a blanket that covers my brain.

Driving down I-94 for about 7 hours each way gives one plenty of time for the open sky and landscape to begin to detach the brain from work and routine, freeing it for the flow of ideas and dreams. About one hour into the drive, I felt the click of transition from stress to relaxation when an idea popped into my mind. I grabbed a notebook and placed it on the seat next to me. As I drove I filled a couple pages with ideas that I'm excited about. Of course, I didn't look at the notebook as I was driving, just scribbled while keeping both eyes safely on the road. The scribbles are legible enough. Now that the trip is over the challenge is to find the time to act on some of those ideas. Some day I'd like to take a train trip not really to go anywhere but just to ride, watch the world go by outside the window, and scribble down ideas for when the trip is done.

Humbly we pray that this mind...

"Humbly we pray that this mind
may be steadfast in us,
and that through these our hands,
and the hands of others
to whom thou shalt give the same spirit,
thou wilt vouchsafe to endow
the human family with new mercies."
--Francis Bacon

"The Angel's Song," an attainable ideal (maybe?)

My friend Nancy sends me the most wonderful quotes. She collect them, filling a library of blank books. Three years ago she sent me this quote. It's called "The Angel's Song."

"I shall attend to my little errands of love early this year, that the brief days before Christmas may be unhampered and clear of the fever of hurry. The breathless rushing that I have known in the past should not posess me. I shall be calm in my soul and ready at last for Christmas, 'the mass of Christ.' I shall kneel and call out his name. I shall take time to watch the beautiful light of a candle flame. I shall have leisure. I shall go out alone from my roof and door. I shall not miss the silver stars as I have before and oh, perhaps, if I stand there very still and very long, I shall hear what the clamor of living has kept from me."

The year she sent this to me--2001--I couldn't live up to the standards set by this unknown author. But then I didn't receive this until a couple days before Christmas so how could I have been expected to, right? 2002 was another year of failure to achieve a "calm in my soul" or to "not miss the silver stars" amid life's demands. I had good reason for this failure, however. My book manuscript was due right after Christmas. In addition, the nasty Norwalk Virus decided to pay a visit to my household, to me in particular. Need I say more? So that was 2002. Last year I had high expectations for my ability to achieve a peaceful execution of holiday activities. Yet, I remember doing all my Christmas shopping the week before and sighing a bit too often and a bit too deeply. It is important to note, however, that I had valid excuses here also but I'll spare the reader a listing of them. Three years have now passed since the receipt of this quote and I think maybe this is the year for a leisurely Christmas. But as I write this I'm convicted by the fact that I've literally been at my computer since I got up this morning, leaving only to go to the kitchen for peanut butter toast, a cup of tea, a bowl of soup, and a handful of goldfish crackers. What's more, so far I've bought exactly one Christmas present.

It's time to turn off the computer. With my husband at a meeting and my son at work, the house is empty but for me and my dog. A perfect opportunity to light a candle and watch its flame, as unknown author recommends. Maybe tomorrow, Christmas shopping.