Mary's Song

Blue homespun and the bend of my breast
keep warm this small hot naked star
fallen to my arms. (Rest …
you who have had so far to come.)
Now nearness satisfies
the body of God sweetly. Quiet he lies
whose vigor hurled a universe. He sleeps
whose eyelids have not closed before.
His breath (so slight it seems
no breath at all) once ruffled the dark deeps
to sprout a world. Charmed by doves' voices,
the whisper of straw, he dreams,
hearing no music from his other spheres.
Breath, mouth, ears, eyes
he is curtailed who overflowed all skies,
all years. Older than eternity, now he
is new. Now native to earth as I am, nailed
to my poor planet, caught
that I might be free, blind in my womb
to know my darkness ended,
brought to this birth for me to be new-born,
and for him to see me mended
I must see him torn.

Luci Shaw

There is no chance that snow will fall on San Diego for Christmas. My three year old is already getting into her annual Grandparent's house, Christmas time brats. Indeed, there aren't enough Christmas carols, rolls of wrapping paper, or servings of honey-baked ham to make me feel very Christmasy. For the first time in my whole life I am sick of the commercialization of Christmas--even if this does make me sound like a Charlie Brown Christmas rerun. The low point was time spent at the Christian books store looking for gag gifts. There they are diligently putting Christ back into Christmas--"Jesus is the Reason for the Season"--and in case you might forget, you can get it emblazoned on a teashirt, coffee-mug, note-cards, bookmarks, Christmas card, magnet, garden banner, poster, socks, flip-flops, key-ring, or cash box. Infant Holy, Infant Lowly.

No shepherds on the hills they say in the winter in Palestine? So perhaps the snow is not necessary.

And Johanna has now settled down for a long winters nap after screaming for two hours ...perhaps sugar plums dance in her head...

But, this other problem that I am dealing with. This problem of the West and it's wealth is harder to just think myself out of. What does it mean to confront the poor baby Jesus as rich young rulers. The manger that calls judgment down on my opulence.... Are all these royal velvets and feasts really in celebration of this new born King? I am at a loss. Most of all I really want to stand in awe at that incarnation and to be able to judge the babe in the manger worthy of the following:

Let all mortal flesh keep silence,
And with fear and trembling stand;
Ponder nothing earthly minded,
For with blessing in His hand,
Christ our God to earth descendeth,
Our full homage to demand.

King of kings, yet born of Mary,
As of old on earth He stood,
Lord of lords, in human vesture,
In the body and the blood;
He will give to all the faithful
His own self for heavenly food.

Rank on rank the host of heaven
Spreads its vanguard on the way,
As the Light of light descendeth
From the realms of endless day,
That the powers of hell may vanish
As the darkness clears away.

At His feet the six wingèd seraph,
Cherubim with sleepless eye,
Veil their faces to the presence,
As with ceaseless voice they cry:
Alleluia, Alleluia
Alleluia, Lord Most

Adventous

It snowed last night. The ground, like a powdered doughnut, was just a bit dusted, but I was thankful for it. Thankful for the two minutes Simeon spent at the window in awe, for Johanna's breaking out into "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas" and for the way the snow reminds me of my wedding day. I didn't even know Johanna knew "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, nor did I expect to be overwhelmed by the immensity of love, now growing, remembered at it near beginning. Of course that is the bright side of the day. A lot of it was spent swearing at the cold, cursing my chapped lips, frustrated by hyper, slightly sick children, and by German. Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht..... Not quite. Oh yes, and cursing my groom, my blissful mate for having the audacity to get sick the day before my German exam. In sickness and in health... Sure, as long as it is not a annoying head cold.