St John of the Cross and the Spiritual Canticle

Dearest e-votees,

Today is the day in the year set aside to commemorate St. John of the Cross.  I have been exploring some of his life story and his writings today.  One of his writings is the Spiritual Canticle which is a poetic allegory.

I was caught by one particular stanza.  Perhaps it will captivate you as well.  Peace,

Karl

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You can read the entire Spiritual Canticle at: St. John of the Cross: Spiritual Canticle of the Soul and the Bridegroom Christ - Christian Classics Ethereal Library (ccel.org)  I was particularly captured by stanza 15:

XV

The tranquil night

At the approaches of the dawn

The silent music,

The murmuring solitude,

The supper which revives, and enkindles love.

Advent is a time of darkness and still.  A tranquil night if you will.  We wait during the long nights of winter.  Nights when the snow sucks up the sound and maybe all we hear is the crunching snow underfoot.  We wait for warmth.  We wait for light.  We long to hear music, song, speech, noises of any sort.

We know the dawn is coming.  It comes every day.  It comes every year with the spring.  It comes at the end of all time with the full consummation with the promises of God coming to fruition.  We long for the awaited spring to come.  We long for the warming sun to rise.  We long for the Son to come as promised.

We know the rhythm and cadence of silence.  We know solitude.  We know sanctuaries and worship services shuttered out of an abundance of caution during a pandemic.  We long for music to break the silence.  We long for the song a robin in springtime.  We long for singing choirs of angels.  We long to gather as faith communities to sing of God's promises and our hopes and dreams at the coming reign of God.

We may find ourselves in solitude but we can't stay there.  We hear the murmuring within our own soul.  We long to murmur with others.  We long for the icy winter to thaw and for babbling brooks to give voice to the hope of spring.  We stand graveside longing for life to spring forth.  We know the dead of winter but know, too, the new life of spring.

We know of the power of communal meals.  Holiday feasts sustain our souls.  Shared laughter and drink with friend feeds us to our core.  Gathering around the promises and the incarnation of communion draws us to pools of grace and heals our hurts.  This supper revives.  This supper enkindles love.

Dear God, we thank you for the lyrical verses and images of St. John of the Cross.  Help us await the bridegroom.  Help us rest, look, pray and linger our way through Advent.  Revive us and enkindle love.  Amen.

Speaking and Singing Word to One Another

 Dearest e-votees,  

Today is a day set aside in the church to commemorate Ambrose, the bishop of Milan.

Ambrose is credited with the innovation of singing hymns antiphonally.  (One person sings part of the psalm and the gathered group responds with the next portion or the antiphon).

Many worship services to this day practice responsive reading or singing as a way to share in God's word together.  

Peace,

Karl

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There are lots of ways to confess our sins and to be assured of God's forgiveness.  Confession and absolution are important parts of our worship services.  Often the congregation as a whole confesses and the pastor offers a word of absolution.  That is good and salutary.  Sometimes the weight and burden of the guilt lead one to offer confession in a one-on-one setting with an offended party or with a member of the clergy.  The words of absolution from one who has been wronged or on behalf of the church and God through a called minister are also good and salutary.

But what speaks quite powerfully to me and through me is when a community practices responsive confession and forgiveness.  Part of the gathered community offers a word of confession.  The other part of the gathered community receives that confession and then speaks a word of forgiveness and absolution.  Immediately thereafter the groups switch parts so that all confess and all speak forgiveness.  I like this because it powerfully embodies for me the mutual consolation of the saints.  All of us are sinners and need to confess.  All of us are called to speak forgiveness and good news to those who seek comfort in the gospel.  

I am not a big fan of hierarchy and power differentials.  When people come into the church looking for the boss I often quip that I'm middle management.  I may have the honor, privilege and responsibility of serving in an ordained capacity but I am just as desperately in need of grace and forgiveness as anyone else.  

The responsive confession and forgiveness feels good and right to me.  Please know that you are a beloved child of God and forgiven this day.  If you see me around please remind me of those things as well.  

Dear God, shape us into your people as we speak and sing your words between ourselves.  Help us bear one another well and bear you well to one another.  Amen.

Giant Disruptions in Our High Holy Seasons

 Dearest e-votees-

One of the things that has been on my bucket list for a while is to watch all 123 of the American Film Institute's top 100 movies of all time.  (There are 123 because they made their original list in 1998 and then revised it in 2007).  You can see the lists summarized here. Being the cinephile I am I have assembled all of these 123 movies into a collection that fits neatly into a cabinet I am working my way through.  This pandemic has opened up some time to make progress on this project.

Part of the joy of this is seeing movies I would never have picked out by myself.  It is good for us to be challenged, blessed and interrupted by the tastes and expertise of others.  This week I found myself watching Giant (Giant (1956) - IMDb).

Peace,

Karl

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Somewhere in the midst of this 200-minute western epic is a Thanksgiving scene.  It is actually two Thanksgiving scenes that contrast one another.  The main couple are having some stresses in their marriage.  They are having Thanksgiving apart.  She and the three children are with her family having dinner.  The children had befriended Pablo the turkey and were traumatized when he was served on a platter for the holiday feast.  The children are inconsolable.  He is at his sprawling cattle ranch in Texas with his own turkey and no one to share it with.

These scenes struck me deeply this year.  Many of us are having what are normally high holy days filled with family and food in a much more constrained way separated by miles and concerns over health.  Some of us are suffering strains on relationships due to distance or extreme proximity that are stressful and hard.  Some of us are deeply traumatized (over all manner of circumstance) and may well find ourselves inconsolable.

For years and years we have been offered a picture of Thanksgiving as a feast of fellowship with family and friends.  Images of pilgrims and original peoples breaking bread together challenge us to live up to higher ideals that transcend current cultural and racist divisions.  A major theme of the movie Giant deals with relationships between Texans and Mexicans; between current squatters and original peoples.  We all know at some level that Thanksgiving isn't a holy day without blemish.

Most of us fall somewhere between the Rockwellian images of family feasts and abundant tables and the gritty reality of wresting away control of a "new" land from current occupants.  Most of us long for deep family connections and warm encounters but know the disconnects and chills that come through pandemics and festering arguments and seething political divisions that divide us.  Most of us long for tears of joy and stirred hearts but can also relate to those other tears of the inconsolability of the broken ways of our own sin and the sins of others.

As we linger in the afterglow of Thanksgiving and lean into the glow of the Advent candles and the hearth of Christmas I hope and pray for joy and peace for you and your family.  May you find consolation as needed in the abiding love of our Lord and Savior, Jesus.  Maybe you be surprised by grace and whimsy in unexpected places as this year continues along in new and unfamiliar forms.  May the disruptions and interruptions bless you and draw you closer to one another and to God.

God, have your way in us.   Help us love you well and reflect you to others.  Amen.