The Way of Mary: Bethlehem

 Good Wednesday morning, good pilgrims of The Way of Mary. We seem to have arrived in Bethlehem to find a Palestinian infant, wrapped in bands of a Keffiyeh on the first day of Hanukkah amid the ravages and rubble of war. All things considered, the infant and his parents are doing well. And now, it's over to us.

Happy Birthday, Jesus! Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukka!

An account of the genealogy of Jesus Christ
descendent of Abraham,
and son of Mary the daughter of Anna:

Sarah was the mother of Isaac;
Rebekah was the mother of Jacob.
Leah was the mother of Judah;
Tamar was the mother of Perez.

The names of the mothers of Hezron, Ram
Amminadab, Nahshon, and Salmon have
been lost.

Rahab was the mother of Boaz;
Ruth was the mother of Obed.
Obed’s wife, whose name is unknown, bore
Jesse;
the wife of Jesse was the mother of David.

Bathsheba was the mother of Solomon;
Naamah, the Ammonite,
was the mother of Rehoboam.

Maacha was the mother of Abijam
and the grandmother of Asa..
Azubah was the mother of Jehoshaphat;
the name of Jehoram’s mother is unknown.

Athaliah was the mother of Ahaziah;
Zibiah of Beersheba was the mother of
Joash.

Jocoliah of Jerusalem bore Uzziah;
Jerusha bore Jotham;
Ahaz’s mother is unknown.

Abi was the mother of Hezekiah;
Hephzibah was the mother of Manasseh.
Meshullemeth was the mother of Amon;
Jedidah was the mother of Josiah.

Zebidah was the mother of Jehoiachin;
Hamutal was the mother of Zedekiah.

Then the deportation to Babylon took place.

After the deportation to Babylon,
The names of the mothers go unrecorded.

These are their sons: Jechoniah, Shealtiel,
Zeurubbabel, Abiud, Elliakim, Azor
and Zadok, Achim, Eliud, Eleazar, Matthan,
Jacob,
and Joseph, the husband of Mary.

Of her was born Jesus who is called Christ.

Written by Ann Patrick Ware.
Published in Frank Henderson’s “Remembering the Women”

Oh, and a reminder: If you buy one of those Advent calendars the day after Christmas when they are heavily discounted, you can count down 25 days until the inauguration with chocolate, which might make it a bit easier.

Wait a minute. No, it won't. Never mind.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia!

The Way of Mary: Eve

 Good Tuesday morning, good Advent pilgrims who walk The Way of Mary. Today is the last of the O Antiphons: O Virgo virginum, (O Virgin of Virgins)

"O Virgin of Virgins, how shall this be? For neither before you was any like you, nor shall there be after. Daughters of Jerusalem, why marvel at me? Because the thing that you behold is a divine mystery."

It is the Eve of the Nativity of Jesus. We are at a spiritual crossroads, our souls are perched on a precipice where the Spirit opens what Steve Charleston calls "a portal of possibility".

Eve. I can't help but remember her. The first woman. Traditional theology has held that, since Adam, the first man, sinned, Jesus, the son of God, had to come into the world to redeem him through the pain of his suffering. And Eve, since she followed the Serpent and led the first man to sin, had to be redeemed by the pain of the labor of Mary.

No, I don't buy that particular version of the story. It's way too tidy and logical and left-brained. And, in this specific case which is out of character for me, I don't care much about the word etymology of 'eve'. Still, I do love that the day when the Spirit opens "a portal of possibility" is called Eve.

Redemption, like beauty, as Madonna sings, is where you find it.

I don't care how old you are, what you've been through this past year, or your current psychological, emotional, financial, or spiritual state, there is something about Christmas Eve that is undeniably magical.

The proof of the magical nature of Christmas Eve is found precisely because some people spend so much energy either resisting or denying it, or ignoring it or trying to prove it is impossible and beyond all logic and reason.

Once, years ago, I was actually - seriously, genuinely, honestly, earnestly - asked if I would "pray for a light dusting of snow to begin just as we were leaving midnight mass."

I laughed softly and asked, "Do you really think I have that kind of power?" She ignored my question, looked off into the distance where her memory lived, and then started to tell her story.

Once, as a teen, she said, she had attended "midnight mass" and, after singing Silent Night while holding lit tapers with the lights in the church dimmed, she left the church with her parents and found that "someone" had placed luminaria on the sidewalk leading up to and all around the church.

"And then," she said, "a light flurry of snow began and it was just so . . .so . . . magical."

There was something in her eyes, in the far-away look on her face, that made me ask, "What was going on for you at that time?"

She kept talking to that far-away point in her gaze and said,
"I knew my parents were headed for divorce. I just knew it. My brother was home from college and his transformation was so shocking I hardly recognized him. I was having trouble in school, distracted as I was with boys and parties and all the changes going on in my life as well as in my body. My father's job was suddenly tenuous. My mother had taken a part-time job. My parent's relationship was buckling under the strain of it all. Our whole family was falling apart. My whole world was caving in."

"And then," she said, "we all went to mass and when we came out, there was the moon and the luminaria and the snow flurries and, we - silently, so silently and without speaking - took it as a sign that there was hope in new life. And, just like that, we were okay again. Well, not okay but we had hope that we would be okay again."

She kept looking away, at that far-away point, still caught up in that memory. "And, so, what's going on for you right now," I asked, gently, carefully.

Those words seemed to break her gaze and she finally looked at me, full face. It took her a few moments to re-enter her present reality and, as she did, her eyes filled with tears.

Finally, she took a deep breath and said, "Let's just say that history has a way of repeating itself, and I need a little Christmas miracle right now, myself."

I think we all do. I think we all carry around impossible burdens that are invisible to the naked eye. Ancient wounds covered by thick scars. Old fears which come to haunt new anxieties. And the undeniable, strong craving - the deep longing and unspeakable desire - to suspend belief in the harsh realities of the present and fall hopelessly in love with the magic of the hope of incarnational love.

There is such hope in love. Real. In the flesh. Human. Tender. New. Unconditional. Love.

Everything and anything is possible. Stars announcing the birth of a human being. Angels singing to hillside shepherds. Virgins who conceive and give birth. The savior of the world lying in a trough meant to feed animals, wrapped in bands of cloth, held in the arms of young, refugee parents in a strange town, far from home and family.

There is such hope in all of that as to mend that which is tattered and strained and falling apart and to make whole again that which is broken.

Hope is magical. Hope is, as Ms. Emily once said, "a thing with feathers." It is also in quiet singing in a dark church with lit tapers and soft luminaires on hard, cold sidewalks and light snow on a dark night, and the first full moon of winter.

And that's what we have tonight, perched as we are on the eve of the miracle of hope. And, in that place of hope, there is an abundant, life-giving, soul-nourishing joy that surpasses all logic and reason.

As Pascal said, "Love has reasons which reason cannot understand."

I believe that with all my heart. Preposterous, I know. Absurd, to be sure. Foolish, no doubt.

Guilty as charged, but, as that verse goes in "Crazy After All These Years," I would not be convicted by a jury of my peers.

I hope you find some of the magic of hope this night. And, if you don't or can't find it, make a little of your own. Light a candle in the darkness. Hum the tune of your favorite Christmas carol. Fashion some luminaires out of some lunch bags and sand/dirt and tea lights and line your sidewalk with them.

Bundle up and take a walk at midnight and feel the cold night air enter your lungs and chill you to your spine. Take it as a sign that the universe is reminding you that you are alive. That just may be enough of a miracle to carry you through to the miracle of hope.

Tonight, the spirit is opening up a portal of possibility. Like Mary before her, let us follow Eve, as well. Let us ask, "How shall this be for me?" and then know that what we behold is a divine mystery.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia!


Image: Streetcar Madonna, Boston Athenæum by Allan Crite, a Black artist and devout Episcopalian who set many of his paintings, even his religious ones, on Boston’s south side.

The Way of Mary: Sovereign

 

Good Sunday morning, good Advent people of The Way of Mary. This morning I am deeply grateful for and rejoicing in the simple and wonder-full gift it is to sleep in one's own bed, cuddled up in one's own favorite blankets, with one's head resting on one's very own pillow.

It was very cold last night - the temperatures dipped into the teens - and my thoughts were with all those who slept on cots in a church gymnasium or re-purposed factory last night, and counted themselves grateful for the vague familiarity of at least having someplace - somewhere out of the freezing cold - to sleep instead of cuddled up against a heating grate around the corner of a city building, away from the easy gaze of The City's Finest Women and Men in Blue who would shoo them away from the shoppers and partiers and holiday revelers who would not wish to have their Christmas festivities dampened by such a sight.

To add insult to injury, last night was The Longest Night - the night of the Winter Solstice - when the amount of darkness is greater than the amount of light. That will soon change as we await the coming of the Incarnation of The Light.

Winter can be such a cruel season. It is a painfully necessary season, of course, especially in the North and East, bringing the remembrance that all things must die - all things have an ending that isn't necessarily happy or timely - before something new can begin.

The cruelty for those who have lost their homes, due to harsh circumstances of life or their own folly, is that, for them, The Season of Winter never seems to end. They cry out for rescue and release, for a Benevolent King who will come to rescue them and liberate them from their misery and suffering.

Today is Day VI (6) of the O Antiphons. I like the modern translation from the Benedictine Sisters of Erie, PA: "O Ruler of Nations and their desire, the cornerstone making both one: Come and save the human race, which you fashioned from clay."

I especially like this meditation from Sr. Joan Chittister, OSB: "We are not the beginning and the end of the universe. We are part of a vision of humankind, seen in Jesus, and yet to be achieved in us, a vision of global sharing, universal peace, and individual security."

I've been thinking about the "gift of sharing". That is different from buying gifts for someone. It's knowing someone is in need and you have more than you need and giving it to them - even anonymously.

This year, my church held its "Annual Winter Coat Drive." And, every year, I open my coat closet and take inventory. Sometimes, I can't imagine giving up one of my coats. The sacrifice of style combined with a sense of plenty seems too high a cost for the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving that I have more than one coat from which to choose and might choose, instead, to share it with an anonymous someone who doesn't have any.

My solution was to purchase a new coat and donate that. Which is a practice not to be disparaged or disdained. But, it always leaves me, personally, feeling vaguely unsatisfied.

So, this year, after very careful thought and prayer, chose to donate my very fine LL Bean car coat and my London Fog raincoat with the zippered, removable lining.

I've had both for about 30 years. They were both in excellent condition, especially for having been to the dry cleaners last Spring. Not even a button missing or a stain anywhere.

"Gently used". That was the request. Well, "new or gently used". Those coats were neither. Oh, the stories they could tell about the places they had been, the stories of people's lives they had heard, the scenes from human dramas played out, unscripted and in real-time, wherein lay their real value.

It was time for them to go. It was time for me to let them go and wrap themselves around someone else's shoulders. It was time for them to find new purpose, new life, in someone else's life.

It was time for them to become the answer to the prayer of the 6th O Antiphon, best summed up in the prayer of Sr. Joan: "We are not the beginning and the end of the universe. We are part of a vision of humankind, seen in Jesus, and yet to be achieved in us, a vision of global sharing, universal peace, and individual security."

It was time for me to let go of my clinging to a God who is Sovereign of Scarcity and worship the God who is Sovereign of Abundance.

And so, it came to pass. It seems foolish to admit that I can not say that I have not thought of those two coats and wondered where they found a home. I can tell you that I have prayed for their new owners, that they felt the energy contained in each coat - the love, the care, the warmth, the memories.

I have prayed that whatever extra those coats contain may serve to warm their new owners twice and bring them hope that, in this world that can seem more harsh and cruel than we care to see, much less admit, there is still a God who works through the simple clay of human form to bring about the vision of Jesus.

The word I am carrying in my heart today as I walk The Way of Mary is Sovereign. How is it that I live my life like a child of the Sovereign of the Universe? How am I faithful to the rules of the Ruler of Nations? How do I live in the midst of the One who is the Alpha and the Omega, to be present in The Reality of The Now and live into the vision God has for The Future?

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

https://www.eriebenedictines.org/

The Way of Mary: Radiance!

 Good Saturday morning, good Advent pilgrims on The Way of Mary. The snow has finally stopped and it is sunny but C.O.L.D. here in Bawston (presently 26 degrees). The local news is reporting that there are 70 delays and 80 cancellations at Logan Airport, but my airline is reporting my flight "on time".

(Please, Jesus or St. Peter, or Pinocchio or Tinkerbell or whoever is in charge of the cosmos today, may that to be so.)

I'm scheduled to preach tomorrow so, taking every precaution, I've sent my sermon to Ms. Conroy and I've written the Canon and the Sr. Warden of the church about the possibility (please, not probability but possibility) of a delay or (gasp!) cancellation.

We have a Plan B and Plan C approved and in place, but hopefully (fingers, toes, arms, legs, and eyes crossed) I'll make it home on time or close to it and be there with those good people in Milton at 9:30 AM for a 10:00 AM mass.

In the Northern Hemisphere, today is the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year, and the longest night. It's officially the first day of winter and one of the oldest-known holidays in human history.

Anthropologists believe that solstice celebrations go back at least 30,000 years before humans even began farming on a large scale. Many of the most ancient stone structures made by human beings were designed to pinpoint the precise date of the solstice. The stone circles of Stonehenge were arranged to receive the first rays of the midwinter sun.

Some ancient peoples believed that because daylight was waning, it might go away forever, so they lit huge bonfires to tempt the sun to come back. The tradition of decorating our houses and our trees with lights at this time of year is passed down from those ancient bonfires.

In ancient Egypt and Syria, people celebrated the winter solstice as the sun's birthday. In ancient Rome, the winter solstice was celebrated with the festival of Saturnalia, during which all business transactions and even wars were suspended, and slaves were waited upon by their masters.

Today is also Day V of the O Antiphons. The Meditative Word for today is Radiance.

"O Rising Dawn, Radiance of the Light eternal and Sun of Justice: Come, and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death." (Jeremiah 23:5; Zechariah 3:8; 6:12, Habakkuk 3:4; Wisdom 7:26; Hebrews 1:3, Malachi 4:2)

It is good to say this O Antiphon before and after saying The Magnificat (which we'll hear in church tomorrow)

THE MAGNIFICAT:
My soul doth magnify the Lord.
And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior.
Because He hath regarded the humility of His handmaid:
For behold from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.
Because He that is mighty hath done great things to me; and holy is His name.
And His mercy is from generation unto generations, to them that fear Him.
He hath shown might in His arm: He hath scattered the proud in the conceit of their heart.
He hath put down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble.
He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich He hath sent empty away.
He hath received Israel His servant, being mindful of His mercy:
As He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to His seed for ever.
Glory be the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost,
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, forever and ever, Amen.

Here's a little meditation and prayer from Sr. Joan Chittister, OSB

"The celebration of the God of Growth in our lives—those moments of insight in which life comes newly alive in me—helps us to recognize those moments of insight in which life comes newly alive and I begin to see differently, to live differently, to function differently. A new friend, a new work, or a new idea are all "radiant dawns" in life that can enable me to become more than I ever dreamed I could."

And, here's a wee prayer, just for today: O Dayspring, Sun of Justice, bright eternal light, one who shows the way, the one who sets us free even in darkness and death. Come, disperse the gloomy clouds of night.

Off we go, then, into this first day of Winter.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia!

The Way of Mary: Wisdom

Good Tuesday morning, good Advent people who walk The Way of Mary. You would not believe the excitement in our house right now. Today . .. this very day . . .being the 17th day of the 12th and last month of December, is . . .. wait for it, wait for it . . . the first day of the O Antiphons.

I can't tell you how Ms. Conroy looks forward to this day, when the antiphons, said or sung at vespers, count down the last seven days before Christmas.

So, of course, the word for the day is: O Sapientia. O Wisdom.

I want to tell you about something I learned from a news article posted by my dear Facebook friend Janet Vetter, which shows that Mother Earth has wisdom and healing that we are just beginning to discover.

It's about the Black Fungus that is healing Chornobyl, Ukraine. (Note Chernobyl is the Russian spelling of that city. Chornobyl is the way the Ukrainians spell it and say it. Sort of like the Kyiv is Ukraninan and Kive is Russian. We say "Kyiv.")

Remember Chornobyl? The explosion of Reactor No. 4 at the Nuclear Power Plant near Pripyat, Ukraine, on April 26, 1986, stands as the worst nuclear disaster in history. The catastrophe created a 30-kilometer exclusion zone—a desolate area still unsafe for human habitation due to lingering high radiation levels decades later.

Shortly after the explosion, scientists discovered a black fungus growing on the walls inside Reactor No. 4. Inside the reactor. These fungi were actually flourishing where the radiation was most intense.

The fungi appear to “feed” on radiation, using it as an energy source much like plants use sunlight through photosynthesis. And now, almost 50 years later, the fungi are still growing, still thriving, eating up the radiation and turning it into energy.

The Black Fungus is healing the earth.

Just let that sink in for just a moment. The earth is healing itself from a deep wound that happened almost fifty years ago, inflicted upon it by its human creatures.

One of the definitions of the word 'Wisdom' is "the ability to see the world as God sees it."

Sr. Joan Chittister offers a very brief meditation for today's O Antiphon - a way to find a path to wisdom. She says this:

"Try reading the newspaper today through the eyes of a God who was born in a stable, counted to be of no account, hounded by society from one place to another."

As I read this account of the Black Fungus of Chornobyl, I see God's wisdom in the world, healing the damage done by Her children who, even after left The Garden more than a few millennia ago, have not yet learned how to use the gift of wisdom.

I suppose it takes more than one bite of the Fruit of Knowledge to gain Wisdom.

Here's another way to meditate on the word wisdom: Try to recall the best and worst decisions you ever made. While we all like the way our best decisions work out, we probably gain the most wisdom from our biggest mistakes. Spend some time trying to understand how God has given you wisdom through your decisions - even the mistakes you've made.

You might want to add this prayer as part of your devotions today — O Wisdom, O Holy Word of God, you govern all creation with your strong yet tender care. Come and show your people the way to salvation. (Isaiah 11:2-3; Wisdom 8:1; Proverbs 9:1)

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

OPS&BTW, here's that article: https://scienceadvance.com/this-black-fungus-might-be-healing-chernobyl/

The Way of Mary: Diva

 

​

Good Sunday morning, good Advent pilgrims on The Way of Mary. It’s the Third Sunday of Advent, AKA Gaudete Sunday. AKA Rose Sunday. AKA Stir Up Sunday.

In the collect prayer, we'll be asking God to "Stir up your might and come among us." We'll also be wearing rose/pink vestments in church and lighting the rose/pink candle.

Just for the occasion, I'm wearing my rose (pink) sweater and my necklace with the large silver rose. I am so sad that I can't find my rose earrings to match but they'll show up. Eventually. Probably next Sunday when I can't wear them again.

Rose or Gaudete Sunday is when we'll be celebrating that soon The Light of the World will be here. And, on December 21st, we'll observe the Ancient Solstice, when the world tips on its axis just a teeny tiny bit and, in fact, the world will be getting a little lighter.

As Wendell Berry says, Advent is the season when things get “darker and darker and darker and then, Jesus is born!”

We’re getting closer.

But the word for today is not "gaudete" or rejoice or rose or even "stir up". The word that came to me today is "Diva".

Let me explain.

In Indian culture, messengers of God are known "as points of light". And, that word? In ancient Sanskrit, the word is “diva” meaning "that which shines". Today, being a “diva” or a “little diva” is just a bit of a slam. It means that you’re spoiled and/or demanding and/or requiring lots of attention.

Today, this third Sunday in Advent, we rejoice (Gaudete!) even as John the Baptist seems to be said 'diva" and has himself a little hissy fit and yells at the crowd, "You brood of vipers!"

Today, John is the messenger of God - a diva in the most ancient meaning of that word in Sanskrit. The light of the Birth Narrative is shining on him and his message but The Light of the World, sent from God, is on His way.

Today is a good day to consider how it is that we bring a little light into the world, which seems these days to be an especially dark and broken place.

I don't know about you, but when I listen to the news or read yet another news article about "the peaceful transition of power" I am very tempted to borrow the words of John the Baptist and scream, "You brood of vipers!"

Which is one way to be a diva and bring a message of God. Personally? I don't think that's particularly helpful.

I'm wondering how I might bring a spark of light into some really dark times. How is it that I might find the courage to stand up and say "No," when that's important but to say "Yes," unless it's absolutely necessary to say "No."

I think that's how hope is made incarnate. God said, "Yes, I made a mistake back in the Garden and now I've got to fix it and send the deepest part of myself to be with those I created."

In many ways, Advent is, as Carter Heyward - one of God's true divas - once wrote, "The Redemption of God." Considering that theological idea - the incarnation of Jesus as the redemption of God - fills me with great hope.

We, as the Body of Christ, we who carry a divine spark within us, have this wonderful opportunity to participate in that ongoing redemption.

This Advent journey is, in great part, about finding our way back to the future in Eden. Together. By allowing ourselves to become divas. Points of Light. Messengers of God.

Off I go to church to ponder all these things in my heart.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

The Way of Mary: Fear no evil.

 

Image by ShaRonda Knott Dawson

Good Saturday morning, good Advent pilgrims on The Way of Mary. In 10 days we'll be getting ourselves ready for Christmas Eve services. Lots of churches still have their "youth" perform The Christmas Pageant - as if there isn't enough stress and anxiety in everyone's lives.

Thankfully, the rector and staff of my church have planned an Epiphany Pageant. Very smart. Very sensible. Way less stressful. Much more meaningful.

This morning, I was meditating on the 23rd Psalm, which was one of the favorites of so many of my Hospice patients. I have said it so often that I have it memorized and can say it as easily as The Lord's Prayer and better than the Nicene Creed.

No matter how often I say it, every now and again a phrase will jump out at me and catch the spiritual attention of my heart.

Today it was "Fear No Evil."

I would bet solid money that Mary recited or chated that psalm to herself at least a few times during the days of her pregnancy.

It's something I am finding brings me great comfort in these dark, chaotic times filled with ominous threats about Mass Deportation and Eliminating Social Security and Banning Flouride in Water and Childhood Immunizations for measles, mumps, rubella, whopping cough, and polio. (Sweet Jesus! Polio!!)

I remembered reading something Fred Buechner wrote about this phrase in, "Secrets in the Dark".

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil." The psalm does not pretend that evil and death do not exist. Terrible things happen, and they happen to good people as well as to bad people. Even the paths of righteousness lead through the valley of the shadow. Death lies ahead for all of us, saints and sinners alike, and for all the ones we love. The psalmist doesn't try to explain evil. He doesn't try to minimize evil. He simply says he will not fear evil. For all the power that evil has, it doesn't have the power to make him afraid."

And, you know, for all the bluster and testing of limits coming from the Castle de Mar-A-Largo, that's really the point: To make us afraid. Not for nothing, it is not without good cause to be afraid. If we shut down, look away, and try to ignore it, Project 2025 has a much better chance of being fulfilled

For all the power all those threats have, it does not have the power to make us afraid. I've said this before and I'll say it again: Fear and Excitement have exactly the same reaction in the body:

The heartbeat quickens and races. The body starts to perspire and may feel tingly. We may scream out and our words will be incomprehensible. Thinking can be fuzzy and unclear and difficult to focus beyond the immediate present.

It's your brain that chooses whether or not you are excited or afraid. Choose not to be afraid. Choose to consider what mighty work God has in store for us - for you - that can not be done without you. Without us working together.

In fact, I think one of the most powerful antidotes to fear is laughter. I think laughter in the face of evil is one of the greatest statements of faith. If you can laugh in the face of evil, you not only believe in God, you trust God to have ultimate power over evil. There's a reason scripture says that laughter is the best medicine. It's also good, preventative therapy.

No, I'm not suggesting that we simply laugh and walk away. That wouldn't be any better than to choose fear. I'm suggesting that we stand up, look evil straight in the eye, and laugh in its face, even as - so that we can - love mercy, do justice, and walk humbly with God.

The Way of Mary is filled with obstacles and dangers. But it is also filled with challenging opportunities that will deepen our faith and strengthen our resolve to live into our baptismal promises and make this world a better place.

The time is pregnant with possibilities to take our embryonic faith and grow into the full stature of Christ. Let's use these last ten days of Advent to nurture ourselves as a fetus in the womb of Mary and allow ourselves to be filled with her blood, rich in the oxygen, nutrients, and antibodies we need to stand up to evil.

Let us draw inspiration from the Prophet Zephaniah.

On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:

Do not fear, O Zion;
do not let your hands grow weak.

The Lord, your God, is in your midst,
a warrior who gives victory;

he will rejoice over you with gladness,
he will renew you in his love;

he will exult over you with loud singing
as on a day of festival.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.
 

The Way of Mary: Chant!

 Good Friday morning, Advent pilgrims on The Way of Mary. It has always struck me as ironic that we read the "Stir Up" collect, wear pink or rose vestments for Refreshment Sunday, and light the 'joy' candle this Sunday. And then, before the week is out, we observe "The Longest Night" and celebrate "Blue Christmas" services for those for whom Christmas isn't so "merry and bright," much less joyful.

We are moving closer, in proper order, to the O Antiphons which begin on the 17th and the Winter Solstice on the 21st. Ms. Conroy finds herself filled with inexplicable joy at the mere mention of the advent of the O Antiphons.

We both enjoy listening to the modern version of the O Antiphons chanted by the Benedictine Sisters of Erie, PA - the order of the fabulous Sr. Joan Chittister - but there really is something amazing about the Plainsong version. We especially love it chanted by women's voices, especially the Sisters of the Order of St. Helena.

So, today, as we journey on The Way of Mary, the word is Chant!

Today is also the Feast of Lucia of Syracuse (c. 283 – 304 AD), also called Saint Lucia or Saint Lucy. Unlike yesterday's saint, Mary of Guadalupe, we observe her day in The Episcopal Church as a "Lesser Feast and Fast". (I suspect a not-too-distant General Convention will soon fix that, given the growing number of Hispanic people in The Episcopal Church.)

One of my favorite memories is listening to the nuns chant a hymn to Santa Lucia in the church named after her in the little Italian section of Newark, NJ.

Her feast day brings back memories of sitting in that cold church - Father would never turn the heat on for a midweek service ("Whaddya think I am, Rockafella?") - and watching the Guido Men in their puff-down winter jackets process the statue of St. Lucy around inside the church.

What a sight! There was the statue of St. Lucy, a palm frond or sword in her right hand, and a platter with two eyes in her left. She is the patron saint of Syracuse, Sicily, and of virgins, which, it is said, is one of the toughest assignments in the pantheon of saints.

Because some versions of her story relate that her eyes were removed, either by herself or by her persecutors, she is the patroness saint of the blind.

She is also the patron saint of ophthalmologists, authors, cutlers, glaziers, laborers, martyrs, peasants, saddlers, salesmen, stained glass workers, photogrammetry, and of Perugia, Italy. She is invoked against hemorrhages, dysentery, diseases of the eye, and throat infections.

According to apocryphal texts, Lucy came from a wealthy Sicilian family. Spurning marriage and worldly goods, however, she vowed to remain a virgin in the tradition of St. Agatha.

An angry suitor reported her to the local Roman authorities, who sentenced her to be removed to a brothel and forced into prostitution. This order was thwarted, according to legend, by divine intervention; Lucy became immovable and could not be carried away.

She was next condemned to death by fire, but she proved impervious to the flames. Finally, her neck was pierced by a sword and she died.

Oh, the things we do for Jesus, eh?

I just remember little Santa Lucia church in Newark with a shrine in her name which was reportedly blessed by "The Pope" (Nobody could remember which one b/c it didn't really matter - "It's the Pope, stunad!") and the big, beefy Guido men who would pick up the statue of St. Lucy from her base (after someone called out quietly 1, 2, 3 - GROAN!) in the chapel surrounded by the crutches and canes people who had been healed by her and the rosary beads of women whose infertility had been healed by her.

There were reports of miracle births attributed to St. Lucy.

The men carried St. Lucy around the church - puffing white breath smoke as they walked (she must have weighed a ton!) while a little Italian girl, robbed in white with a HUGE crown of plastic greens and electric candles on her head carried a palm frond and platter with holly, and the children, boys and girls from the church school, and old women in black coats and scarves and young women with coats open to show their ample cleavage followed the statue around the church singing "Santa Lucia".

The children always left some coffee for Lucia, a carrot for the donkey, and a glass of wine for Castaldo, her escort, to thank her for the gifts she brought to the good children - but the bad children would be left a piece of coal.

They were sternly warned by Father that they must not watch Santa Lucia delivering these gifts, or she would throw ashes in their eyes, temporarily blinding them.

See also: The things we do for Jesus!

I can never hear that wonderful hymn, Santa Lucia, without that memory wafting in through the cobwebs in my brain. It never ceases to cause me to smile.

That's the power of music, especially this time of year. Hymns, Christmas Carols, O Antiphons all bring back powerful memories of the magic of wishes and dreams and prayers.

It's a wonderful part of Advent which fills my heart with gratitude. Well, except for hearing the Trinity of Evil Christmas Songs: "All I Want for Christmas," "Little Drummer Boy," and (oh, no, not . . . .) "Mary Did You Know?"

Off I go then, into the day, with the song of Santa Lucia in my head and in the ears of my heart.

Remember to leave out some coffee for Lucy, a carrot for her donkey, and some wine for her escort, Castaldo. Do it with gratitude and a smile and watch how your perspective and attitude change.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

The Way of Mary: Milagro!

 Good Thursday morning, good Advent pilgrims on The Way of Mary. Today is the celebration of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the patron saint of The Americas.

Some people call her "*Their* Lady of Guadalupe," the patron saint of Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador, and parts of California (which, of course, were once part of Mexico).

No matter what, if any, your religious persuasion, I think it's time to claim Mary who, in 1531, appeared four times to Juan Diego, an Indigenous Mexican peasant of Aztec descent, as the patron saint of The Americas.

Juan Diego was canonized in 2002 as the Church's first indigenous American saint.

The word that came to me in my morning meditation was "milagro" which is Spanish for "miracle". I think we are in a moment in time when it is - and increasingly will be - very important for us to keep the eyes of our hearts open and expect miracles.

Here's why I say that.

First of all, especially in these days when "Mass Deportation" is hot on the lips of many people in North America - either with enthusiastic support or deep, troubling concern - I think it's significant that Mary's apparition was that of an indigenous American.

Mary spoke to Juan Diego in his own language and the image she left on his tilma (poncho/cloak) is that of a young woman with mixed Indigenous and European features (mestiza).

There is no doubt that we are entering a very dark time in the history of this country. Revenge and Retribution are the stated primary tools of the new administration to "Make America Great Again." I don't know how two negatives make a positive but apparently, this is the "new math" of this ideology.

Then, there's the objectification, suppression, and oppression of "the other" - meaning anyone who isn't of Western European origin, who doesn't practice a particular brand of Christianity that is understood to have a rabidly evangelical zeal and is the historic and dominant religious expression of this country. And, , of course, this means the suppression and oppression of all those who are not male or support the social-cultural understanding of the superiority of being male. And, White.

Freedom of religion means you are free to be Christian. Freedom of speech means you are free to repeat the dominant ideology.

Freedom of assembly means you are free to gather to support the present administration; if you protest, you will face the possibility of facing American soldiers with guns.

Reproductive Freedom? Well, that's fine as long as women follow God's will, as determined for you by the dominant Religious hierarchy which is, of course, male and/or male-identified.

It's 1984. Two and two make five. Who controls the past controls the future: who controls the present controls the past. History has stopped. Nothing exists except an endless present in which the Party is always right.

Oh, but there's no need to worry. It's just libtards, getting hysterical. That's just him, right? That's just his bluster. He's just trying to 'shake things up' and 'drain the swamp'.

I think we learned in his first term to believe him and know that he believes his own lies.

One of the messages of Mary of Guadalupe was to build a church. The bishop at the time took that to literally mean to build an actual church, which was completed on the site of a former place of Aztec human sacrifice.

This was interpreted through the lens of Western, Christian hegemony as evidence of the superiority of one religion and ideology over another. It was delivered with the imprimatur of the Mother of God.

I don't think that's what Mary was saying, any more than Jesus wanted Peter to build three booths when He appeared on the mountain with Moses and Elijah.

I think Mary's message is a timeless one that doesn't have anything to do with buildings and structures but more to do with creating the visible, tangible presence of The Body of Christ in the world.

I think Mary's message was not one of hegemony but radical diversity, equality, and inclusion. One of the clearest things she said was, "Listen to the people." She wanted the institutional church to listen to the people's lamentations and remedy their sorrows.

Indeed, she wanted to be a symbol of unity for those who were struggling to leave oppression. Instead, the bishop used the money and resources at his disposal to build a grand cathedral with opulent vestments to be worn by clergy who could read and interpret the scriptures for poor, illiterate people dressed in rags.

Instead of feeding the hungry with real food, they were fed with the crumbs of bread from the Table of the Lord and promised a better life in the next.

It will take a miracle for the institutional church - and The Americas - to finally hear Mary's message over 500 years later, but it endures as does her image on Juan Diego's tilma.

We are going to need a miracle to get through this time. Which is not a problem, really. I believe that miracles happen every day. Every person is a miracle. Every moment is a miracle.

I believe miracles happen every day because I believe we are miracles that contain the possibility of miracles. If only we can open our eyes, we'll see God's love everywhere.

I think the miracle of Our Lady of Guadalupe and her message is enduring and timely. I think we need to listen to her.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

The Way of Mary: Equality!

 Good Wednesday morning, good Advent pilgrims journeying on The Way of Mary, and those who may be along because you're curious.

This morning, as I was considering the life of Mary, the Theotokos, and what spiritual lessons she might also bear for us, I was beset by the reminder of the Equal Rights Amendment.

The word 'equality' came to mind.

I'm not sure what Mary would have thought about equality. Was it possible for a woman in antiquity to even conceive of such a status for herself or other women? If the soul of a "lowly servant" is able to "magnify the Lord," if she is able to bear the child of God, isn't everything possible, even equality for women?

Well, apparently, it's difficult for modern men and women to imagine full equal status for women under the law. But, in the next 40 days before January 20th, President Joe Biden has the opportunity to change.

To say that the ERA is long overdue is to make an understatement. Twentieth-century suffragists Alice Paul and Crystal Eastman authored the ERA; it was first introduced in Congress in 1923. It didn’t pass Congress until 1972 when it then began its journey through the states.

With Virginia becoming the 38th and final state needed to ratify the ERA in 2020, the amendment has met all requirements of Article 5 to become an amendment and is now at a critical juncture in its history.

Here's the problem In a bureaucratic quirk, no amendment can be added to the Constitution until the Archivist of the United States certifies it as valid and publishes it in the Federal Register.

No one on either side of the issue will be surprised to know that President Trump’s Justice Department blocked this, citing the fact that Congress in 1972 imposed deadlines (first seven years, then three years) for ratification that expired before the needed final states signed up.

What is amazing is that Joe Biden's administration also went to court to block publication. This is as confounding to me as he is on record as having apologized to Anita Hill for his "leadership" as the chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, when he presided over the confirmation hearings in which she accused Clarence Thomas, President George Bush’s nominee to the Supreme Court, of sexual harassment.

Reportedly, Ms. Hill thanked Joe for his long overdue apology but says the call from Mr. Biden left her feeling deeply unsatisfied.

She declined to characterize Mr. Biden’s words to her as an apology and said she was not convinced that he has taken full responsibility for his conduct at the hearings — or for the harm he caused other victims of sexual harassment and gender violence.

I can't imagine the appointment of Brett Kavanaugh to the SCOTUS if the ERA had been in place.

Had the ERA been added four years ago, it might have prevented the Supreme Court’s 2022 Dobbs judgment, which gave state legislatures the final say on the reproductive rights of women.

The amendment would prevent attempts by states such as Texas, which has outlawed abortion, to track pregnant women to prevent them from traveling to obtain a legal abortion elsewhere. An amendment would be far more stable and permanent than a gender equality law which could, at any time, be repealed.

When my grandmother had a special prayer petition, she would pray to a specific saint. St. Gerard was her go-to for anything to do with her kids. Unless, of course, one of them had frustrated her beyond reason and then she would appeal directly to St. Jude.

But, it was "Mother Mary" she turned to when she wanted to be sure to get the ear of Jesus, especially in situations of injustice. We would make novenas to Mary during labor union strikes. If social unrest or war were threatened, the beads were out and whirling for Mary's intervention.

Indeed, I don't think I ever saw a statue of Mary around the house that didn't have a vigil candle burning.

So, I suspect Mary would approve of the ERA. Indeed, I have no doubt in my mind that she would support the movement to have Joe instruct the Archivist of the United States to certify the ERA as valid and publish it in the Federal Register. It would then be enshrined in the Constitution as the 28th Amendment.

“So God created humans in His own image, in the image of God created He him; male and female created He them” ( Gen. 1:27 ).

Mary knows this. So does Joe.

Biden, that is.

Let's finish the job, Joe. Publish the ERA. Give women full protection under The Constitution from the whims of one of the most conservative and corrupt Supreme Courts in our history, most of whom were appointed by the most corrupt POTUS in history, who is about to take office again.

Mary would expect nothing less of you.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

PB: Shattering Glass is an organization that has been working for the ERA. It has published some ideas about how we might accomplish this movement toward full equality under the laws in the next 40 days. I encourage you to click on the link and take some action.

See also: Mary would expect nothing less of you.

The Way of Mary: Real!

 Good Tuesday morning, good Advent pilgrims who walk The Way of Mary. My meditative reading this morning was Matthew 2:13–23, the flight of Mary and Joseph into Egypt. As I read it, that particular scene from the Netflix film "Mary" which I watched yesterday kept coming to mind.

And, the word for Mary that surfaced today was "Real".

By which I mean that the portrayal of Mary in that film was anything but. So much so that I want to say, straight up, don't bother to watch it. Your time will be better spent watching a rerun of The Grinch or Frosty the Snowman.

I did watch the whole thing. I'm an optimist. I kept thinking that, anytime now, it's going to get better. And then, I wondered what other liberty they would take with the story. There were so many, I lost track. These are the ones I easily remember:

There were no donkeys to carry Mary to Bethlehem and Joseph didn't walk alongside her. No, they had a horse and buggy.

Joseph wasn't an old or even older man. He was young. And, very much smitten if not in love with Mary, who had more feelings of gratitude than romantic feelings for Joseph. Then again, she didn't know him except as the guy who saw her washing clothes by the river and then asked her father for her hand in marriage.

Herod, on the other hand, was old. Very old. And Very Cruel. He was also surprisingly overacted by Anthony Hopkins.

Which brings me to the caste who were white. Very. White. Decidedly not Palestinian. Indeed, the Prophetess Anna as well as Mary's parents, Joachim and Anne, looked decidedly Scottish. And then, there was Anthony Hopkins who wildly overacts in the role of Herod.

The storyline took some interesting departures from scripture, the authenticity of which is admittedly dubious.

Mary and Joseph did not go to Bethlehem because of the census. They went because Mary was being threatened with death by stoning because of her pregnancy out of wedlock.

Mary did not give birth in a manger next to the inn where there was no room but in an abandoned shell of a building. She did not give birth alone, just she and Joseph and a few cattle lowing, no! Her mother Anne and cousin Elizabeth were there to help while Jospeh paced nearby.

Neither did they flee to Egypt because of Joseph's dream but because Herod's army had gone to Bethlehem to kill all the firstborn male children (another unbelievable, very gory scene) and then found Mary and Joseph in a home where they had stopped on their way to escape Herod's men.

Which is the first scene of the movie. You see Mary and Joseph alone in the desert. Joseph is on a horse (not a donkey) in the foreground and Mary is alone, standing in the desert sand as she holds the Infant Jesus and says, "You may think you know my story. You don't. Trust me."

And, if you do, trust her, you must first give up any ideas you might have had from years of reading and/or studying the scriptural nativity story or acting out own of the characters in a nativity play as a child.

This, the producers of Mary want you to know, want you to believe, is the Real Mary. It helps, then, to know that this whole entire project was the brainchild of none other than Mr. Authenticity himself, Joel Osteen. You know, the televangelist with the expensive tailor-made suits and slicked-back hair, who flies around in his own, personal jet, and broadcasts from his own studio/church, who is relentlessly cheerful as his perfect, blonde, Barbie-look-a-like wife stands by his side, who together deliver an unfailingly upbeat message of Prosperity Gospel, like "You were born to win." And, "Don't take miracles for granted." And, "God is not finished with you yet."

This Real Mary is Osteen's impossible dream of a modern Christian woman - strong yet gentle, fierce yet meek, independent yet obedient, who can ride a horse through fire while holding her infant in one arm and lifting her husband up to the horse with the other. A perfect woman who uses her "woman's intuition" and "motherly instincts" for the purpose of making sure the men in her life make the right choices and stay on the right path.

This is the model of the Christian woman Mr. Osteen is holding up as 'relatable' to modern women to emulate and follow. Osteen can't help it. is an evangelist. The primary purpose of this film is not to tell a modern interpretation of the nativity story, but a pull out all the stops effort of "relatable evangelism" for a new, younger generation of people who, truth be told, don't know much about the details of the scriptural story and, honestly, the details, like the brand of Christianity, don't really matter.

If you accept this as the real premise of the film, Mary, you may actually find parts of it enjoyable - like the cinematography
and the costumes (which look like something out of "Dune") and the scenery which was filmed in Morocco.

I don't know who Mary was. There are as many theories about her as there are Mariologists. I do believe that there was a historical Mary as there was a historical Jesus. I have no doubt she was very real in that sense.

I'm sure her love for Jesus and any other children she and Joseph had was just as real as the miracles Jesus performed which was, in and of itself, a miracle, given the hardships she must have endured as a woman of antiquity.

I love Christology and the way that Jesus is interpreted through the social and cultural lenses of so many different people, races, and tribes. I also love Mariology and the way Mary's life story has so many interpretations depending on the same variables.

This one leaves me cold. I'll take the Real Mary, please, not some relentless need for good Christian men to interpret her life for her, put words into her mouth, and say, "This is the real story. Trust me."

Mary was. That's real enough for me. Everything else is just midrash and eisegesis. Which, btw, I enjoy. I think using one's religious creative imagination deepens and enriches faith. Sort of like the characters in The Chosen. "Mary" is not that.

As long as we can be clear about that, you might actually find the film enjoyable.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

The Way of Mary: Bold!

Good Monday morning, dear Advent pilgrims who walk The Way of Mary. Today is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, which is a feast day created by the Roman Catholic Church to occur exactly nine months before the feast of the Nativity of Mary on 8 September.

Those guys in long white dresses may be celibate but they are clever enough fellows to know how long a pregnancy lasts, even if the whole thing was made up in the 7th Century.

In the Church of England, which has its own share of clever fellows, the "Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary" may be observed as a Lesser Festival on 8 December without the religious designation as "sinless", "most pure" or "immaculate".

Good old Anglican Via Media.

You will no doubt find men and women in The Episcopal Church who will make note of the Conception of Mary today, which may also include this prayer from the Sarum Mass:

"O God, mercifully hear the supplication of thy servants who are assembled together on the Conception of the Virgin Mother of God, may at her intercession be delivered by Thee from dangers which beset us."

I remembered that prayer last night, once the nausea subsided after learning that Old King Donald returned to the international stage with an invited appearance at the Grand Re-opening of Notre Dame in Paris.

The word that has arisen for me today, as I've contemplated the life of Mary, is this: "Bold."

As in, not "meek and mild".

When you consider what that young woman was asked to go through her whole, entire life, she was 'bold' right from the first "Yes" when she could not have known what she was about to set in motion.

So, of course, the men in long white dresses had to steal her thunder. Can't have the Mother of Jesus seem powerful in her own right.

A new movie has been made about her, aptly titled, "Mary". It's available now on Netflix, just in time for the devoted to watch on this Feast Day. I'm planning to check it out this afternoon. I mean, it is my Sabbath Day.

“You may think you know my story,” Mary reportedly tells viewers at the start of the film. “Trust me, you don’t.” The movie then goes on to tell the story of Mary as seen through her own eyes.

Except, of course, the dialogue was written and the movie was produced by Hollywood director D.J. Caruso. A man. Who is also Roman Catholic.

"Devoted to his faith" we are told, and inspired by the late David O’Connell, auxiliary bishop of LA, who was his spiritual leader (Tragically, O'Connell was shot to death in 2023 by the husband of his housekeeper.).

RNS reports, "Alongside familiar scenes from the Christmas story — the annunciation, the manger birth, the visit of the wise men — the film offers a more harrowing look at the dangerous reality Mary and Joseph faced as Herod’s forces pursued them to kill the infant Jesus."

My expectations are not very high. Although, I must say that I do like this image of Mary from the film which depicts her on the run from King Herod's soldiers after Jesus' birth. She appears to be holding her infant, hiding him under her dress, tucked close to her breast.

I hadn't thought about that particular part of the nativity story. My impression from Matthew's reporting is that they snuck out of Bethlehem in the middle of the night as they escaped to Egypt. Which totally could have happened. If, in fact, they even "escaped to Egypt" at all or if Matthew added that flourish to connect the story of Jesus with the story of Moses.

I think whatever we can do to take Mary off her pedestal and place her here among the people, giving her as much of her own voice as our religious imaginations will allow, is a good thing.

Mary clearly earned a place of distinction in religious history by her bold "Yes" to the Incarnation, but I don't think that was her point. In the Magnificat, "All generations shall call me blessed," is not an acknowledgment of the status of a rock star, but the recognition of the profound honor and awesome responsibility of her role as Theotokos, the bearer of the Incarnation of God.

Even so, I think the point is that Mary was human. I'll bet she was human enough to have cussed a little when she burned the pita bread and maybe even had a bad hair day or two. I'll bet she was even bossy more times than anyone wanted to remember, so they didn't.

I don't need to have her conception to have been "immaculate," free from sin or other messy elements of the human enterprise.

Being a follower of Jesus is not for sissies. Why would we think that being his mother wouldn't require at least a modicum of being bold?

We're going to need to remember that boldness - especially after January 20th.

I'll leave you with this marvelous poem from Kaitlin Hardy Shetler and other Marian heresies to consider.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

i like my nativities
with a side of heresy
with midwives and mothers
and empty mangers
and full arms
I like wise women
over wise men
attending to bloody people
born and crucified
showing up in places
church leaders won't go
i like heralding feminist agendas
and trouble
and god's good news
which is kind of repetitive
since they're all the same thing
proper churches
want proper nativities
because women's bodies
are shameful
whether bearing christ
or just bare
and instead of silent nights
i like loud protests
because
be silent
is not a phrase about joy
but about control
so give me a christmas
without white supremacy
and bright sexism
where the story of a baby
becomes a story of a woman
and my nativity looks like
god's
and not like
man's. ~ Kaitlin Hardy Shetler

PS: Looks like I had incorrect information. "Mary" was directed by D.J. Caruso and written by Timothy Michael Hayes. Mary Aloe was the producer and described as "a key force in the creation of this film, working diligently to put together an amazing team both above and below the line. With Hannah Leader, Gillian Hormel, and Joshua Harris also serving as producers and Pastor Joel Osteen as an executive producer on the film."

Joel Osteen, eh? Well, we all have been duly warned.

The Way of Mary: Bold!

 Good Monday morning, dear Advent pilgrims who walk The Way of Mary. Today is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, which is a feast day created by the Roman Catholic Church to occur exactly nine months before the feast of the Nativity of Mary on 8 September.

Those guys in long white dresses may be celibate but they are clever enough fellows to know how long a pregnancy lasts, even if the whole thing was made up in the 7th Century.

In the Church of England, which has its own share of clever fellows, the "Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary" may be observed as a Lesser Festival on 8 December without the religious designation as "sinless", "most pure" or "immaculate".

Good old Anglican Via Media.

You will no doubt find men and women in The Episcopal Church who will make note of the Conception of Mary today, which may also include this prayer from the Sarum Mass:

"O God, mercifully hear the supplication of thy servants who are assembled together on the Conception of the Virgin Mother of God, may at her intercession be delivered by Thee from dangers which beset us."

I remembered that prayer last night, once the nausea subsided after learning that Old King Donald returned to the international stage with an invited appearance at the Grand Re-opening of Notre Dame in Paris.

The word that has arisen for me today, as I've contemplated the life of Mary, is this: "Bold."

As in, not "meek and mild".

When you consider what that young woman was asked to go through her whole, entire life, she was 'bold' right from the first "Yes" when she could not have known what she was about to set in motion.

So, of course, the men in long white dresses had to steal her thunder. Can't have the Mother of Jesus seem powerful in her own right.

A new movie has been made about her, aptly titled, "Mary". It's available now on Netflix, just in time for the devoted to watch on this Feast Day. I'm planning to check it out this afternoon. I mean, it is my Sabbath Day.

“You may think you know my story,” Mary reportedly tells viewers at the start of the film. “Trust me, you don’t.” The movie then goes on to tell the story of Mary as seen through her own eyes.

Except, of course, the dialogue was written and the movie was produced by Hollywood director D.J. Caruso. A man. Who is also Roman Catholic.

"Devoted to his faith" we are told, and inspired by Caruso by the late David O’Connell, auxiliary bishop of LA, who was his spiritual leader (Tragically, O'Connell was shot to death in 2023 by the husband of his housekeeper.)

RNS reports, "Alongside familiar scenes from the Christmas story — the annunciation, the manger birth, the visit of the wise men — the film offers a more harrowing look at the dangerous reality Mary and Joseph faced as Herod’s forces pursued them to kill the infant Jesus."

My expectations are not very high. Although, I must say that I do like this image of Mary from the film which depicts her on the run from King Herod's soldiers after Jesus' birth. She appears to be holding her infant, hiding him under her dress, tucked close to her breast.

I hadn't thought about that particular part of the nativity story. My impression from Matthew's reporting is that they snuck out of Bethlehem in the middle of the night as they escaped to Egypt. Which totally could have happened. If, in fact, they even "escaped to Egypt" at all or if Matthew added that flourish to connect the story of Jesus with the story of Moses.

I think whatever we can do to take Mary off her pedestal and place her here among the people, giving her as much of her own voice as our religious imaginations will allow, is a good thing.

Mary clearly earned a place of distinction in religious history by her bold "Yes" to the Incarnation, but I don't think that was her point. In the Magnificat, "All generations shall call me blessed," is not an acknowledgment of the status of a rock star, but the recognition of the profound honor and awesome responsibility of her role as Theotokos, the bearer of the Incarnation of God.

Even so, I think the point is that Mary was human. I'll bet she was human enough to have cussed a little when she burned the pita bread and maybe even had a bad hair day or two. I'll bet she was even bossy more times than anyone wanted to remember, so they didn't.

I don't need to have her conception to have been "immaculate," free from sin or other messy elements of the human enterprise.

Being a follower of Jesus is not for sissies. Why would we think that being his mother wouldn't require at least a modicum of being bold?

We're going to need to remember that boldness - especially after January 20th.

I'll leave you with this marvelous poem from Kaitlin Hardy Shetler and other Marian heresies to consider.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

i like my nativities
with a side of heresy
with midwives and mothers
and empty mangers
and full arms
I like wise women
over wise men
attending to bloody people
born and crucified
showing up in places
church leaders won't go
i like heralding feminist agendas
and trouble
and god's good news
which is kind of repetitive
since they're all the same thing
proper churches
want proper nativities
because women's bodies
are shameful
whether bearing christ
or just bare
and instead of silent nights
i like loud protests
because
be silent
is not a phrase about joy
but about control
so give me a christmas
without white supremacy
and bright sexism
where the story of a baby
becomes a story of a woman
and my nativity looks like
god's
and not like
man's. ~ Kaitlin Hardy Shetler

The Way of Mary: Prepare!

 Good Sunday morning, good pilgrims on The Way of Mary. The sun has not yet made an appearance. I am preaching at the 8 & 10 this morning at St. Peter's (I'll post my sermon later) so it's up and out the door early for me.

I also have a Foyer Group at noon and today's Advent Wreath Lighting Liturgy is scheduled for 4 PM, not 5:30 because a beautiful Service of Advent Lessons and Carols is scheduled at the church for 5 PM and suddenly, there is a traffic jam on the "information superhighway".

It's Advent. You know, the quiet, contemplative time.

Turns out, preparing the way of the Lord is fairly labor-intensive (you should excuse the wee little pun there).

And, that's the word that came to me this morning as I did a brief meditation to start my day. "Prepare". Actually, in my sermon, I disdain the word "Repent" for Advent.

Now, "repent" is a perfectly fine word. It's a great word. And, an important spiritual exercise. At any time, actually, but especially for Lent. But, this is not Lent. It's not even a "mini-Lent."

It's Advent. It's its very own season. It's the shortest liturgical season of all of the liturgical seasons and, for some reason, some folks just can't leave it alone and let it be what it is.

Here's the thing: Advent prepares us for the Incarnation and, without the Incarnation, nothing else really matters. I mean, if you don't believe in the Incarnation then all of those miracles of Jesus? Yeah, they're just cheap magic tricks.

And, let's be very clear: Jesus was not performing cheap magic tricks. That was straight-up divine intervention.

You don't even have to get tangled up in the stuff about "The Virgin Birth". Who really knows what the ancients meant when they said "virgin" and then how it got translated over the years and bent and shaped into what some folks thought would be an even better story?

But, without the Incarnation, forget the part about The Resurrection, and, if you're a Christian, you really can't forget the part about The Resurrection. If you do, you best take that pretty gold cross off from around your neck.

So, preparing for The Incarnation is really important work. All the rest of the articles of our Christian faith hangs right here, on this first miracle.

You know, just like the rest of life. It starts small - teeny-tiny, microscopic - and then it grows and then it's amazing and then we think it's over and then we discover that we live on in something called Eternal Life, which is the gift of The Resurrection which wouldn't have happened without The Incarnation.

And that? Right there? That's thousands of dollars of education and 40 years of experience boiled down into one very complex sentence that the nuns of my youth would faint if I had written it down as an answer to a quiz. Indeed, for my penance, they'd probably make me try to diagram that sentence.

So, best be prepared, even if it means you're a lot busier than you intend to be. Ask any woman who has ever been pregnant
- or any person, male or female, involved in the creative process - how that works.

The sun is just starting to break on the horizon. It's time for me to brush my teeth, put on my game face and prepare to break open The Word for the faithful who will gather for prayer and inspiration.

And, follow The Way of Mary so that we can be nourished and fed to follow The Way of Jesus. I'll leave you with this wonderful poem and artwork from Jan Richardson to contemplate.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

Prepare
A Blessing for Advent

Strange how one word
will so hollow you out.
But this word
has been in the wilderness
for months.
Years.

This word is what remained
after everything else
was worn away
by sand and stone.
It is what withstood
the glaring of sun by day,
the weeping loneliness of
the moon at night.

Now it comes to you
racing out of the wild,
eyes blazing
and waving its arms,
its voice ragged with desert
but piercing and loud
as it speaks itself
again and again:

Prepare, prepare.

It may feel like
the word is leveling you,
emptying you
as it asks you
to give up
what you have known.

It is impolite
and hardly tame,
but when it falls
upon your lips
you will wonder
at the sweetness,

like honey
that finds its way
into the hunger
you had not known
was there.

—Jan Richardson
from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons