My Bloggerversary...1 Year Today!

Today's harmonic convergence features:

• the first day of Advent,
• the beginning of the liturgical year, and
• my first full year of blogging!

Thank you, kind readers, for your support and encouragement.
God only knows what more I'll have to say in the coming year.


[Ruth: You were right!]

Erev Advent

If you don't count the violet place mats I put out last week, Advent prep began two hours before sundown tonight. Turns out I needed every minute to arrange this year's mantle diorama of the Annunciation, hang angels from door handles, and scatter stars around my hermitage. Plus vacuum.

About an hour into this festive frenzy, I lit balsam-scented candles to enhance my mood and then fortified myself with a tangerine to tear through four closets and two cabinets searching for the Advent wreath candle holder. It was in a drawer where I also found seasonally appropriate coasters, dish towels in Sarum Rite blue, and an unopened bag of 50 tea lights. All can call me blessed.

No wonder people with kids look hellacious from mid-November through January 2. It's just me and the cats, a teeny tiny home, and absolutely no plans for a tree, lights, and decorations until the third week of Advent but I'm exhausted. Can't take a nap. Not yet. I still have to plan this year's route to the manger for Three Kings.

Advent : Watchful Waiting and...Arguing?

I thought I was seeing evidence of ecumenical healing in a recent story about Evangelical Protestants recognizing and embracing Advent. Then I read approximately half of the 631 posted comments before logging out with dismay.

Looks like intra-religious animosity is alive and thriving -- Protestants bashing Catholics, Catholics bashing Protestants; mutual disdain and disregard; sheer ignorance all around; spelling errors. Brave attempts by a stalwart few to remind participants that Christians should at least agree on this point: Christ Jesus is Lord.

I say it's a darn good thing we have God's durable covenant with Noah (Genesis 9:8-17). If there was ever a time for God to declare the past 5769 years an unholy beta test, this would surely be it.

Putting a Lid On It

Mystery is everywhere. This past week, mystery was visible in the kitchen drawer where I store lids to food containers.

I developed this system during the decade I reigned as Space Queen ("No mess too big, no job too small!").

Space Queen's rules relative to food containers: 1) lids and containers are stored separately in separate, preferably adjacent, drawers; and 2) any container without a lid gets tossed or recycled.

I've been following and advocating this system for years. Trust me, following rule #1 makes it easier to avoid having to follow through with rule #2. And so, imagine my mortification to discover I somehow ended up with three containers without proper lids. This simply doesn't happen in my kitchen. Where did they go? Are they hanging out in household limbo with the three single socks whose partners have also disappeared?

And three??? Cosmic!!! Clearly, I am not beyond spiritualizing just about everything.

No mystery there.

Thanksgiving Day, 2008

First, I woke up with the words of this e.e. cummings poem in my head. Next, it appeared as today's prayer on Ironic Catholic's NaPraGoMo (National Pray to God Month) blog.

I have a special fondness for this poem for many reasons, including the fact that one of my dearest sisters from the ashram years brought it to my consciousness. I keep a copy of this tacked onto the bulletin board next to my desk and although you'd think I'd have it memorized completely by now, I do not. I do, however, manage to recall the first line and, thankfully, the part about "everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes." I note with delight under what circumstances other lines drift in and out of memory.

Seems like not only the perfect poem for Thanksgiving but also for the advent of Advent. May the blessings of today be revealed in the next and the next, world without end.


i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

--e.e. cummings

Striking the Set of Ordinary Time

The new liturgical year begins in four days and I'm getting ready by striking the set of Ordinary Time. Since Ordinary Time coincides with autumn, this means swooping all the miniature pumpkins, dried gourds, and silk leaves off my fireplace mantle. My cats' Halloween Boo! bowls are already washed and stashed away for next year.

Right after Thanksgiving, I'm yanking the fall foliage out of my not-to-be-sullied-by-fire fireplace and replacing it with pine boughs and holly branches. Evergreen garlands and wreaths will appear! The spicy scents of ginger, sandalwood, and cinnamon will give way to the evocative fragrances of frankincense, myrrh, and balsam.

On Sunday morning, I'll take the first of my Advent candles out of the freezer where they're stored for longer-lasting brighter burning, light the first violet taper, and peek behind the first door of the Advent calendar.

Enough fall. I'm ready for twenty-three days of yes.

A rabbi, a priest, and a minister...

I broke my fast from religious news yesterday. Thanks to God's infinite grace and good humor the top commentary on David Gibson's blog was titled, "What is the point of interfaith dialogue?" John L. Allen titled his column, "Interreligious dialogue impossible, pope says, but intercultural dialogue good."

Being me, I immediately envisioned the Vatican's repeal of the Nostra aetate document. Turns out B16 is trying to make a point about shifting the focus of interfaith dialogue from apologetics to practical matters of mutual concern -- like world peace.

I'm thinking we should switch to interfaith stand-up.

More specifically, I'm suggesting that religious leaders sponsor open mike nights at local comedy clubs. Just a guess, but I think interfaith dialogue would go a lot better if our conversations started with this venerable invocation: "a rabbi, a priest, and a minister were in a row boat..."

Amen?

Life as a Personal Aide: Liturgical Version

Being a personal aide to someone with quadriplegia is a blessing. Being a personal aide to one who is also a disabilities rights activist is a kick in the butt. I know, I know...I should be grateful that I can stand up to get my butt kicked. Ruth, after all, cannot.

The latest kick in my able-bodied butt has to do with realizing how tough it can be for people with disabilities to receive Communion. While it's fine with me if anyone in a wheelchair or on crutches wants to come up the aisle, I've noticed how it's clearly not fine for others.

And so whenever I have the privilege of distributing the Eucharist, I walk forward to meet people with disabilities. I do not expect them to roll or hobble all the way up to me. I'll also serve seated people with disabilities first, kneeling to make eye contact, and taking our sweet Jesus time in the process. I do this not to get them "handled" or "out of the way" but to honor the courage and strength it took for them to get there at all.

Guess what? Religious organizations are not required to comply with the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). Our worship and religious education spaces -- and the bathrooms that go with them -- do not have to be physically accessible. Our churches, synagogues, and mosques are under no legal obligation to provide American Sign Language translation or braille worship aids. If any of these accommodations are made, it's because someone took the moral high ground and then scraped together the funding to make accessibility possible.

For the past few years, transportation issues have prevented Ruth from attending and participating in the Mass. Maybe that'll change now that she has the van. Maybe not. She's understandably tired of the eye rolling, dramatic sighs, and sotto voce muttering about being in the way that frequently accompanies her appearance in the power chair.

I'm not sure taking the manual chair is a solution, although God knows I'd welcome the opportunity to mutter "repent" and "get out of the way" while navigating it up the nave with her in it. Might be a great way to kick off the new liturgical year.

Coincidence or Correlation?

It's not even Advent and my Christmas cactus is blooming. Coincidence or correlated to the sudden drop in temperature? I may be a social scientist but high mileage along the spiritual path has persuaded me that there are no coincidences; standard measures of correlation do not apply.

Decades ago, I rejected "coincidence" as a useful concept. I'd collected enough evidence to persuade me that so-called coincidence would be more productively viewed as the "invisible hand of God made visible." I realize this won't work for everyone. For one thing, belief in God is a prerequisite. It also helps to embrace the notion of mystery and then be willing to see mystery revealed in the mundane.

My life has been enriched beyond measure by adopting this viewpoint. This morning I laughed with delight upon seeing a half dozen vibrant pink cactus flowers. I welcome them as God's visible evidence that life can be generated during even the darkest of seasons. Correlated to the temperature? Perhaps, but I prefer to believe that prayer had something to do with this morning's gift.

Fasting Slowly

Good to have spiritually savvy friends, even better to follow their savvy spiritual directions. The latest counsel comes from a dear friend and colleague who listened with expansive compassion to my most recent Tourette's Syndrome-like outburst about...stuff.

This "stuff" would be news detritus delivered several times a day to my Google Reader from blogs like Whispers in the Loggia, The Deacon's Bench, Pontifications, John L. Allen, Jr. for the NCR. I also read whatever horrifying news Pew has collected about religion.

My friend gently suggested I fast from reading any and all news about the Church for at least three days. Three days? Interesting choice of time frame. I'm having difficulty doing this for more than three hours. Odd. I fasted from all secular news from 1989 to circa 1994. Okay, so I was shocked to learn that Sammy Davis, Jr. had died. Wars, famine, bad human behavior, bad movies, drug discoveries, food scares, drug recalls? I knew they'd cycle around again. They have.

Why-Oh-Why am I having such a tough time fasting from news about religion? It's not like my church ever decides anything in fewer than 400 years. Still, I should heed her advice because there's not enough Zantac to counteract the effects of my morbid fascination with current events in the domain of religion. God knows I'm already taking handfuls of that as I write about the first century church.

Book Review: Blinded: The Story of Paul the Apostle

Having started out a zillion years ago as an aspiring illustrator (crow quill pen & ink!) you'd think I'd have paid more attention to the "graphic novels" trend. Up until now I haven't.

Artiste sour grapes? Writer why-can't-they-read-narrative-text hissy fit? Who knows? In any event, I've seen the light with a book titled, Blinded: The Story of Paul the Apostle.

Last night, my book signing seat was next to Steve Ross', author-illustrator of Blinded. What initially drew me to his table was a pile of sketches, work-in-progress work. One thing led to another and I ended up devouring Steve's book right then and there.

This was very Holy Spirit timing. In Blinded, Steve's compelling graphics and taut text make familiar stories come newly alive. I woke up this morning kicking myself (ouch) for not buying a pile of his books and getting them signed by him. I did, however, leave with a signed original pencil sketch that has already proven inspiring on a number of levels.

The book? A great gift, especially during this Vatican-proclaimed Year of St. Paul.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Hanukah

On this year's Gregorian calendar, Hanukah shows up on December 22, which means it begins at sundown on the last Sunday of Advent.

Although this Jewish faux holiday has nothing to do with Christmas, that doesn't stop Jewish organizations from participating in the December selling season. And so, I was not especially surprised to receive from Aish.com an ad for an Amazing Collection of Hanukah Menorahs. What stopped me in my click-read-delete tracks was this come hither ad copy: Looking for that beautiful menorah that says it all?

These days, I'm studying the 1st century events that separated Hebrew and Gentile followers of Jesus into two separate religions, events that included Roman carnage. As a result, I've been pondering the phrase, "says it all." Nothing beautiful comes to mind. Yet.

Brawling Monks!

This morning's headline story from Jerusalem, Monks brawl at site of crucifixion, should not have perked me up but I confess to you, my sisters and brothers, it did. According to this report, Armenian and Greek Orthodox monks came to fisticuffs at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.

The tussle took place at the Edicule, an edifice marking the site of Jesus' tomb. In fact, the entire church site is divided among six Christian sects who apparently cannot resist fighting over turf rights. This latest skirmish had to be handled by Israeli riot police in assault gear.

And why did this perk me up? I feel an odd sort of sociological thrill whenever I encounter evidence for how the formal institution of church subverts faith. These events help refocus my attention on Almighty God.

Image from: www.bibleplaces.com

An Author's Life: The Slump (VI)

Maybe switching to Diet Coke and pretzels wasn't such a great idea. I could be making this up but writing was easier when Diet Cream soda, Cheez Doodles, and salami were involved. Now, not so much.

The work of moving heaps of words into sentences, maneuvering sentences into paragraphs, and piling paragraphs into text is exhausting. According to the blueprints, the structure should hold, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to ram a bulldozer into the whole thing.

This slump is predictable but that doesn't make it any easier. Nor does writing about the Jewish roots of Christianity at this point in time. Just my luck it's the Vatican-declared Year of St. Paul. Everyone around me is woo hoo St. Paul. I'm having a meltdown while reading Galatians and spending money in therapy talking about it to my Jewish Conservadox therapist.

To make matters worse, I discovered earlier this evening that the tiny white pellets on my couch were not pretzel salt but the innards of my lap desk cushion. I think I need to get back to the Doodles tomorrow.

Life as a Personal Aide: On a Roll

Ruth's accessible van was delivered yesterday from a dealer in Georgia who specializes in these things. Her blog post about it is up.

So what if the van arrived four days after we piled Ruth, her manual wheelchair, and all the stuff she needs to be a properly-hydrated kick-butt attorney into my inaccessible car. The van is here! Not that I've seen it. I'm still physically recuperating from Monday's adventure via the acupuncture, napping, Diet Coke, and pretzels cure.

And as I'm starting to perk up, I'm realizing how dramatically this accessible van will enhance her quality of life. Mine too, because now Ruth will be able to follow through on her annual holiday promise to me.

No more excuses! This Advent, she can drive while I aim the camera to capture images of ADA parking lot violations at shopping malls. This is going to be our best holiday season ever.

This is America, so be free to vote!

I'm hoping to wake up Wednesday morning to discover that indeed "hope does not disappoint" (Romans 5:5) and that prayers for change have been answered.

My own discernment process has been enhanced by the thoughtful, balanced, and simply beautiful prayer posts of A Concord Pastor. Please treat your mind, heart, and spirit to the prayer he has crafted for today's Monday Morning Offering XIX.

Weekend Edition: All Saints and All Souls

Does anyone not know my next book is about what Christians really need to know about Judaism's legacy? This is basically all I think or talk about these days...with time out for making trenchant observations about ADA issues.

And what does Judaism have to do with this weekend's observance of All Saints and All Souls? Not much, except I found myself wanting to honor the venerable Jewish tradition of inquiry (read: arguing) when I recently heard a priest say the two holy days really didn't have anything to do with one another.

At that point I so longed to be in a synagogue where I could've leapt up out of my seat like I was at a game show to challenge the Rabbi. (Not that many contemporary Jews avail themselves of this option.) I, of course, was in church listening to a priest, but would dearly have loved to generate some conversation about this equation:

(we're all) saints + death = souls + eternal life = saints

I'm offering it here for you to ponder while listening to Becker's gorgeous litany of the saints, posted by A Concord Pastor complete with music and text. As for me and my house, this will be playing on continuous loop all day.