On of my problems on the blog is that I often “commit typos.” That is to say, I am lousy at proof reading my own material. A number of you send me little corregida, for which I am grateful. I do read over what I have wrote, but I read right past my errors and don see them at all. Yet this phenomenon is common in that when reading we often adjust see right past some of the most glaring of errors.
Consider the following passage:
I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid. Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn’t mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig huh? Yaeh, and I awlyas thought slpeling was ipmorantt.
Did you get all that? I’ll bet you did, just fine. I don’t think I missed a point, every word made perfect sense to me, grammatical and lexical nightmare that it was. The nonsense makes perfect sense. But allow this little exercise to explain to you that what I write makes perfect sense to me, even if it crosses your eyes.
An interesting computer thing happened when typing this post too, my spell checker just plain gave up. After the first five or so misspelled word, it just stopped underlining in red. Proof that if you tell a lie long enough, even spell checker will believe you.
And yet I want to remind you that for God, nothing unavenged will remain. My only concern, does this include blog edits? Does God permit alternate spellings and doe she grade on a curve? Will I spend time in purgatory for my unforced editing errors? Please consider praying for me when I die. In the meantime, keep those edits coming.
Here is my favorite jibberish (or is it gibberish) interview.
When I was a young man, a teenager really, I did the usual crazy stuff of the early, 70s, long hair, bell bottoms, wide ties, crazy plaids, shirt open at least least three buttons, and of course, rock-n-roll.
But, through it all I had this love for older things. I think it had something to do with my Grandmother, Nana, whom I loved with great affection. Often she lamented the loss of the old things and old ways. She missed the Latin Mass, she missed when manners were better, when people remembered how to dress well, when things were more certain, when, (as Archie and Edith put it, Girls were girls and men were men). She also missed when things were built sturdy and plastic was all but unknown.
Somehow her love for older things, and older ways took hold in me, even as I indulged the silly seventies. My parents’ generation born in the late 20s and 30s, and even more so those born after the War, were something of an iconoclastic generation: “Out with the old, in with the new…New and improved.”
I remember my mother often wanting to get rid of some old thing. I often volunteered to remove it, and would then hide it in the attic. Old silver, silverware, Tiffany lamps, statues, trunks etc, began to fill our attic. In addition, I loved old buildings and hated the glass boxes that were being built in the 70s. I remembered the old churches of my childhood in Chicago that “looked like churches” and lamented the “ugly modern church” of my 70s suburb. And even though I liked rock music, when I went to Church I couldn’t stand the “hippie music” of the 60s that predominated in the 70s parishes: Kum-by-yah, Sons of God. Such dreadful lyrics all on stapled mimeographed papers: Here we are, all together now, gathered round the table of the Lord, Eat his Body! Drink his blood! and we’ll sing a song of love, Allelu, Allelu, Allelu, Allelu-i-a!
My Grandmother often said how she missed the beautiful old songs, the incense, the veils, priests in cassocks, and so many other things. She somehow had my ear. I was sympathetic, hiding antiques from both my parents home and from the church too, as they were cast aside. I looked for a day when the sanity would return, and such cast-offs were once again valued.
And that day has largely come. Much of the iconoclasm of the 50s- through the mid 80s has given way, and many older things are once again appreciated. As I took some things out of the attic in the early 90s, my mother strangely appreciated them again. Other family members took some of the silver, etc. My Chalice, (photo, upper right), was an old cast off I had restored. Statues began to return to church, some of the old hymns have returned, and the Latin Mass, relegated to the cellar, has been dusted off and is now appreciated again by many, mostly younger Catholics. I have also had the good fortune of helping to restore two old Church’s to their former glory, and to undo some of the iconoclasm from which they suffered. I even wear my cassock quite often.
For the record, I do not mind some more modern churches, some of them have a handsome simplicity. But nothing irks me more than to see a beautiful older Church made to look like 1985, all white-washed and stripped bare. Thankfully, I think that terrible era is largely ending.
But we have been through a time of it in the Church to be sure. Perhaps some things had to go “into the attic” for a time, in order that they could be taken down again, and appreciated anew. But whatever the reasons for the iconoclasm, especially of the 1960s, I sense we are now recovering a balance. A balance that does not reject the new, but still appreciates the old; a balance that nods to a hermeneutic of continuity, of which the Pope speaks, rather than a rupture and radical discontinuity with the past; a balance of which Jesus says, Therefore every scribe who has become a disciple of the kingdom of heaven is like a head of a household, who brings out of his treasure things new and old (Matt 13:52).
Many look back and wonder at the great rupture and cultural tsunami we have endured in the West. We wonder how, and why. There are of course countless reasons, but I would like to single out just one: forgetfulness.
Traditions set up and endure for a reason. Fundamentally they simplify life by giving structure, boundaries and expectations. People know more easily how to navigate in the realm of tradition. But one sign that a tradition is in danger, is when people come to forget its purpose, when people forget where it came from or why we observe it, when people forget what it means or symbolizes.
I wonder if I were to get in my time machine and go back to 1940 in this parish and ask people some questions: Why do women wear hats and veils and men do not cover their heads? Why do we kneel to receive communion? Why is the Mass in Latin? Why does the priest face toward the altar? Why are all these things done this way? I suspect I would get an answer something to the effect: “I dunno, we just do it that way. Why don’t you ask the priest?”
In other words, I wonder if the first stage of losing a tradition is when it no longer makes conscious sense to people? That is, when when it is no longer clear to them why we do what we do, other than to say, “That’s just what we do.”
At some point when we are dealing with tradition we run the risk that they become wooden and rote, and we start sifting through the ashes of an old fire that has largely gone out. Unless we fan into flames the gifts of God’s love (cf 2 Tim 1:6) our love and appreciation of these things grows cold, and their beauty tarnishes. And then, some one says of something, “What’s this?” And we say, “What?! that old thing?!” And thus the suggestion to “get rid of it” receives a cursory nod, “Sure, that’s fine, get rid of it”
But the process begins with forgetfulness. And forgetfulness leads to a lack of understanding which then gives way to a lack of appreciation. And all this culminates with an almost gleeful dismissal of things old and now tarnished traditions which once sustained and framed our lives.
To be sure, some things need to fall away and perhaps there is place and time to lose things for a while, only to rediscover them. But what we have experienced in the last 60 years has been more than this sort of natural process. It has been a rupture, and radical discontinuity that has shaken many of our foundations, Church and family especially.
Therefore we do well to “remember” many of our traditions. The word “remember” suggests a process of putting the pieces back together again, a process of collecting some precious things that have been severed from the body and making them once again a “member” of the Body, the Church, and of our families. Remembering many of our lost traditions, even as we establish some new ones, is an important way of ensuring continuity with our past heritage and members.
Tradition is the “democracy of the dead” wherein our ancestors get a say in what we do. Tradition is a way to “re-member” the Church, to honor the ways and practices of the ancients that my grandmother recalled with fondness and a sense of loss. And it was a loss, but a loss I pray we are beginning to remedy, as we remember the best of the past and recover our traditions.
I thought of all of this as I watched this video from Fiddler on the Roof. This was written at a time when the sweeping changes of the last 60 years were already underway. And this song “Tradition!” while it tips a hat at tradition, ultimately ridicules it by implying that tradition is the kind of thing that essentially keeps men in charge, women down, and forces children into arranged and unhappy marriages.
At a key moment in the song Tevye is describing a tradition of the prayer tassels and says, You may ask, how did this tradition Got Started? And then after a pause he says, I don’t know! But it’s a tradition! The first sign that a tradition is in trouble is forgetfulness.
But the musical (written in 1964) pretty well captures the iconoclastic attitudes emerging at the time that were cynical of tradition in a general sort of way. Despite that cynicism Tevye rightly notes what we have come to discover only too well:
“Without our traditions our lives would be as shaky as a Fiddler on the Roof.”
Many Catholics seldom think past their own parish when the consider the Church. And yet the Catholic World is huge and quite vibrant:
1.2 Billion Catholics in the World.
412,236 Priests
721,935 Religious Sisters
221,055 Parishes
92,847 Catholic Elementary Schools with 31 million students.
43,591 Catholic Secondary Schools with 17 Million Students [*]
117,000 health care facilities, including hospitals, clinics, orphanages,” as well as “18,000 pharmacies and 512 centers” for the care of those with leprosy, all comprising 26% of the total of the world’s health care facilities. [*]
There is probably never a moment during the day in which Mass is not being celebrated somewhere on this planet, where the Liturgy of the Hours is not being celebrated. At every moment, Catholic school bells ringing, the poor and sick attended to by the Church, confessions being heard, counsel being given.
I am mindful of the words of an old hymn: The sun that bids us rest is waking, our brethren ‘neath the western sky.
Scripture also comes to mind
Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation (Mk 16:15)
But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. (Acts 1:8)
Their voice has gone out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world. (Rom 10:18)
My name will be great among the nations, from the rising to the setting of the sun. In every place incense and pure offerings will be brought to my name, because my name will be great among the nations,” says the LORD Almighty. (Mal 1:11)
Like your name, O God, your praise reaches to the ends of the earth; your right hand is filled with righteousness. (Psalm 48:10)
In that day you will say: “Give thanks to the LORD, call on his name; make known among the nations what he has done, and proclaim that his name is exalted. Sing to the LORD, for he has done glorious things; let this be known to all the world. (Is 12:4-5)
I am about to come and gather all nations and tongues, and they will come and see my glory. (Is 66:18)
And many others.
Yes, the Lord has done a glorious thing. It is so common to hear the failings of the Church and of her apparent irrelevancy to the modern Western World. And she remains, by God’s grace, strong, vital and worldwide. What a marvelous thing the Lord has done.
And if perhaps the worldwide picture overwhelms, consider even the life in one diocese in this country. My cousin John Clem alerted me to the video below, from the Archdiocese of St. Louis. It pictures the life of the Church in just one Archdiocese. As the clock in the video ticks by there is not a moment where the Church is not teeming with life, by God’s grace. The video beings in the early hours of the night where religious are praying the hours and shelters and crisis centers are up and running. As the morning dawns Masses are celebrated, parishes and school come to life, hospitals and clinics hum with activity. And as evening comes, more prayer, parish meetings and and the settling in of people in shelters. And in the late hours of the night an Archbishop prays for his people. One day in an Archdiocese.
Here in the Archdiocese of Washington, we did something similar in written form, a document called Catholic Impact. In its forty pages a similar story is told of a local Church, and Archdiocese, that teems with life.
There are surely struggles in the Church about which we must be sober today. But too easily we focus on the negative, on what is wrong, and we look right past a lot of what is right, what is good, life giving, healing, vivid and true. Let this video and book remind us of that.
The Lord continues to do a marvelous work in his mystical Body, the Church.
A lot of breakdown in modern communication comes down to logical fallacies and cognitive distortions that have us talking past each other. Perhaps, as the new year draws near, we might spend a little time reflecting and “thinking about our thinking.”
All of us fall into these traps. I have spoken before on the blog of the problem of “all or nothing thinking” and also our tendency today to take everything personally, to be thin-skinned. Perhaps some of the following reflections on the nature of our knowledge and how we both argue and reason, may also be instructive, since, as a group, we tend today to be very polemical, ideological and not always well reasoned in our thinking. Indeed, careful reasoning is NOT an obvious gift that most in these times exhibit.
Neither do most of us properly understand the limits or range of argumentation and so we tend to live in times where many “absolutize” what they argue and/or demand unreasonable “proof” for what others say. Frankly, the kinds of absolute proof many demand today is not possible in most realms of knowledge, including the many aspects of even the physical sciences, as we shall see. But this does not means we therefore know nothing, but only that we know within a range of stronger and weaker certitude based on a number of factors.
What is set forth here and tomorrow, is not intended to be exhaustive. Indeed, anyone who has ever studied the branch of philosophy known as “Logic” will know that some of the structures of logic, and especially of “formal logical fallacies” are mind bending in their complexity and often ask us to hold many things constant (a difficult thing to do) while we discuss in great minutia some specific syllogism or point. There are, frankly, dozens of logical fallacies that can be distinguished, but many are very arcane, sensible only to the very erudite (of whom I am not one). Hence I will spare reader here the deepest distinctions and only discuss a few more common problems.
A logical fallacy is, fundamentally, an error in reasoning. Some logical fallacies are more common than others.
Most broadly we can distinguish between formal and informal fallacies. This is because there are two types of argument: deductive and inductive.
Deductive arguments are supposed to be water-tight. For a deductive argument to be a valid, it must be impossible for both its premises to be true, and its conclusion to be false. The truth of the premises establishes the truth of the conclusion.
The classic example of deductive argumentation is:
1 All men are mortal.
2 Socrates is a man. Therefore:
3 Socrates is mortal.
It is simply not possible that both 1 and 2 are true but 3 is false, so this argument is deductively valid.
Any deductive argument must meet this high standard or it commits a logical error, and so, technically, is fallacious.
Now to be sure, not all our arguments can meet this high standard of deductive reasoning since not every premise can be as firm as “all men are mortal.” This includes many arguments that we would usually accept as good arguments, arguments that make their conclusions highly probable, but, they are not absolutely certain. Thus an argument that claims the high standard of deductive reasoning, but cannot meet its high standards is said to commit a “formal fallacy”. This does not mean that the argument is without any merit, only that it claims too much for itself.
Why is this important? Because, in an age of skepticism we need to rediscover that our demand for pure deductive reasoning is often itself “unreasonable.” We often set an impossibly high standard, namely, that all things must be absolutely certain for me, every argument absolutely airtight, and purely deductive. But the problem with this is that it does not often pertain to us, mere mortals, to have such a command of facts in order to have such certainty. In demanding a certainty or evidence that is absolute, we are usually being unrealistic, for such absolute certainty is rare in our human condition.
Thus we moderns too easily tend to reject all evidence that is not what we consider absolute. Yet, though not absolute, it IS good evidence. And we also tend to invalidity anoint certain types of evidence (especially the physical sciences) with a certainty they do not actually have. For indeed, even the physical sciences make many assumptions and hold theories that are not 100% certain. And scientists DO hold metaphysical assumptions (e.g. that reality is intelligible) which are not unassailable.
Thus in our insistence for “absolute proof” and pure deductive reasoning, we often produce a cynicism in ourselves that closes a great deal of the world of experience off to us. For the fact is, most of what we see and experience admits of mystery and uncertainty.
On account of this attitude, many today reject faith which asks us to walk “by faith and not by sight.” The evidence of faith is supplied in trusting the authority of God who reveals. And yet, to be honest, most of what we know rests on what we learn from trustworthy sources and test in the laboratory of our life.
And so, if we are honest, pure certainty and the rarefied world of deductive reasoning is not the usual human condition. We do well to admit that faith is a valid strategy, as is moving forward without 100% certainty, and that even “pure science” contains a lot of theories, hypotheses, hunches and even guesses, not to mention pure mysteries and a plethora of unknowns.
And that leads us to inductive arguments which do not propose to be as rigorous as deductive argumentation. But note, they are STILL good arguments, and often the only argumentation available to us in many matters. A good inductive argument lends support to its conclusions and sets forth good reasons for them. But even when the premises of an inductive argument are solid and true, it does not necessarily mean with 100% certainty that its conclusions are true. That the argument is a good one and that its premises are true, only establishes that its conclusion is likely or probably true.
Again, let us be clear, inductive arguments, which involve most of the reasoning we must undertake, do not assert and cannot claim the 100% certainty of deductive arguments. This is because they often use premises or assert conclusions that are not self evident, but only likely and probable. Thus the terms most often used to distinguish good and bad inductive arguments are “strong” and “weak” rather than certain or “proved.”
An example of a strong inductive argument would be:
1 Every day until now the law of gravity has held. Therefore:
2 The law of gravity will hold tomorrow.
Note that this argument is very strong but not absolutely certain. Nevertheless most of us would act with confidence on its premise and conclusion and even make plans of a significant nature based on it. And this is case with most knowledge we have, which is not usually pure deduction, but involves a lot of inductive reasoning and argumentation.
Now, that said, we are not thus cast into a world of absolute uncertainty. There ARE standards for inductive arguments that must be met. And arguments that fail to meet the standards required of inductive arguments are said to commit fallacies, technically termed “informal fallacies” (since we are not in the realm of deductive reasoning with its absolute standards).
It is these “informal fallacies” that I would like to turn our attention in tomorrow’s post. As stated above, there are many logical fallacies that exist and have been well described. Some are more common that others, and some are more clear and egregious than others, but all of them have impact on what we may term critical thinking.
For today let this suffice. But tomorrow we can turn our attention to some (not all) of the fallacies that more often occur. As we shall see, since arguments consist of premises, inferences, and conclusions, some arguments fall short since the premises don’t give adequate support for the conclusion drawn and thus are termed fallacious. The most common fallacies center on matters of relevance, ambiguity, or presumption:
Fallacies regarding relevance rely on premises that aren’t relevant to the truth of the conclusion.
Fallacies regarding ambiguity make use of equivocation, “straw man” arguments, or play around with the plain meaning of words in a way that is erroneous or misleads.
Fallacies regarding presumption rely on false premises, and so fail to establish their conclusion. For example, arguments rooted in false dilemmas, false dichotomies or circular arguments.
Learning a little about the nature of argumentation and reasoning can help us to avoid some of the more common modern pitfalls that shut communication down. Further it can help us avoid the extremes of either insisting on too much certainty or of falling into the other extreme of relativism. Most human knowledge exists on a continuum with absolute and deductive certitude being relatively rare, as is total ignorance and absolute uncertainty at the other end. Most of our knowledge and argumentation may be said to fall in a middle range of things we know strongly or weakly, with great confidence or lesser confidence.
Accepting this middle ground can go a long way to open true discussion and mutual respect, wherein we neither demand unreasonable or absolute proof, but neither do we dismiss necessary standards in setting forth inductive and reasoned arguments.
More on this tomorrow (actually January Wed, 2nd yo be more precise).
Without proper balance a lot of modern argumentation looks and sounds a lot like this song:
The video below is a Coca Cola commercial from about five years ago that takes up the Christmas theme of the star of Christmas.
Let us review the impact that Star of Christmas had on the wise men, the Magi.
The star moved them to seek meaning outside themselves. It made them look out and up.
The star called them beyond what was familiar in their own country and world and expanded their horizons toward Christ and His kingdom.
The star summoned them to seek Christ, and when they found him, to worship him.
The Star drew them to be generous to a poor family in Bethlehem, and to make sacrifices, as they lay costly gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh before the Lord.
The star roused them to conversion as they “returned to their country by another route” following the straight and narrow path, rather than the wide and destructive one.
Yes, it is a fact that no one encounters Jesus Christ and goes away unchanged. A blind man went away able to see, the deaf went away able to hear, the lame could walk, the hungry went away satisfied, the ignorant were instructed, the guilty forgiven, and sinners were converted.
And the call of the nations to new life and to change began with a star. And the light of the star opens the way to the Light of World, Jesus. The star of my life is Jesus.
In the commercial below we see Santa (a name which means “Holy One”) send forth a star, a star that touches people and radiates a light that transforms them.
A woman sees the light of that star and is able to forgive her husband and be reconciled with him.
A young soccer player sees the light of that star, surrenders pride and steps aside to let another player share in and get a shot at glory.
A young girl sees the light of that star and forsaking some of her own beauty seeks to beautify a public park for others.
A guard at the local museum sees the light of that star and shows mercy to the guard dog with him (this was a silly one).
A father sees the light of that star and permits his son a moment of growth.
Yes, there is something about that star that changes everyone who looks at it. They become more forgiving, more gracious, aware of others, more connected to others, more loving.The light of the star, and the light of the world is Jesus. And his light is meant to have that same effect and more besides.
In the background of the commercial plays an old Elvis song:Wise men say only fools rush in, But I can’t help falling in love with you. Shall I stay, would it be a sin? If I can’t help falling in love with you.
Here of course the “love” that is portrayed is not the romantic love of the song but the brotherly and agape love that Christ gives. Like the Magi of old who found Christ by the star, no one sees the star of Jesus and encounters him and then goes away unchanged. Indeed if we authentically encounter Christ, we are equipped to love, just as the people in this commercial are. We are equipped to forgive, to bring healing, to help others find strength and glory in the truth and to come to full maturity in Christ. A person who knows Jesus and has encountered him cannot help loving others, not in some merely sentimental way, but with a strong, vigorous love rooted in the truth. The same love Jesus has for us all.
At the end of the commercial there is an admonition in Spanish that translated says, Give the world the best of you. The best of me is Jesus.
Many are shocked to walk into daily Mass on December 26 and instead of hearing more of the “Baby Jesus” we are confronted with Martyrdom, “The Feast of Stephen” is ancient on the Church’s calendar. More ancient than the Christmas cycle and hence it was not removed to another time.
Bu the martyrdom does not stop there. We are in the midst of the Christmas Octave, an Octave filled with blood as we shall see.
What is an Octave? But first, there may be some of you who wonder what is meant by and “Octave.” An Octave is a period of eight days wherein a feast of the Church is celebrated for that whole period as though it were all the same day. In the modern liturgical calendar we only observe two octaves explicitly: Christmas and Easter.
During the week following Christmas many of the prayers speak of each day as though it were still Christmas. For example some of the prayers and antiphons say, “Today is born our savior, Christ the Lord.” A purist might say, but it is NOT today that he is born, it was back on Saturday the 25th that he was born. But, in certain sense this IS still Christmas day. Christmas Day is one long day of eight days from Saturday the 25th to Saturday January 1st.
It is the same with Easter where for one whole week we announce: “This is the day the Lord has made…”
Why eight days? Some say it is a reference to the eighth day on which Christ rose. I know, you thought it was the third day. But it was also the eighth day! For God made the world in seven days, resting on the seventh (Sabbath or Saturday). But Christ rose on the 8th day (Sunday). So resurrection morning is both the third day AND the eighth day! Others say the practice of the octave goes to Jewish times where some of the feasts (e.g. Dedication and Tabernacles (Booths)) were celebrated over 8 days.
In the old calendar there were more Octaves such as: Epiphany, Pentecost, All Saints, Immaculate Conception, Ascension Sacred Heart and others). Not all of these were privileged Octaves in which no other feasts could be celebrated. Easter and Pentecost were really the only two that blocked out all other feasts entirely. Others, like the Christmas Octave, allowed the celebration of other feasts but still referred to the feast of the octave as well.
So here we are in the Christmas Octave and, in a strong sense it is thus still Christmas Day. TODAY is born our savior Christ the Lord. This feast is so important that we stretch its observance a completed week and into the eighth day.
Bloody Octave – But one of the striking things about the Christmas octave is its bloodiness. It is one of the bloodiest weeks of the Church’s years. Thus, on December 26th, when we have hardly digested our Christmas dinner, we celebrate the Feast of St. Stephen, the Martyr who was stoned to death. On December 28th we celebrate the Feast of the Holy Innocents, the young and infant boys who were murdered by Herod seeking to kill Christ. On December 29th we celebrate the feast of St. Thomas Becket who was murdered in Canterbury Cathedral. Even St. (King) Wenceslaus of whom we happily sing “on the Feast of Stephen” was brutally killed by his brother.
Why all this blood, why this martyrdom? It is almost as though the red poinsettias that we put out in festive Christmas spirit look back to us in testimony. For it is clear that Jesus came to this world, ultimately to die. His crib (likely of wood) in which he was laid, arms and feet bound by swaddling clothes, points inevitably to the wood of his cross where, once again, his arms and legs were bound by nails and, after dying, he was wrapped tightly in a linen shroud.
The blood of the Christmas octave also reminds us that many of us too will share in Christ’s lot. This world hated Christ and had “no room for him.” Neither does this world have room for true Christians and the blood of martyrs stretches down through the centuries in testimony to the world’s hatred for authentic disciples of Christ and the truth they propose.
From this bloody octave the words of Christ ring out: If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you (Jn 15:19). The martyrs of the Christmas Octave say, Amen.
And even St. John the Apostle, whose feast also occurs in the Octave (Dec 27), also says Amen. For, though he did not suffer martyrdom he proclaimed his Amen also from his prison cell on Patmos: I, John, your brother and companion in the suffering and kingdom and patient endurance that are ours in Jesus, was on the island of Patmos because of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus (Rev 1:9).
Victory – But all these martyrs and sufferers (St. Stephen, St. John, the Holy Innocents, St. Thomas Becket, and St Wenceslaus) proclaim too the victory that is theirs with Jesus Christ who also said, In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world (Jn 16:33). And again, Do not be afraid of what you are about to suffer. I tell you, the devil will put some of you in prison to test you, and you will suffer persecution for ten days. Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you life as your victor’s crown. (Rev 2:10) Yes, Lord, the Spirit and the Bride say, Amen.
In the ancient Church, and until rather recently, we genuflected at the two references to the incarnation in the Mass: at the Creed and at the Last Gospel (John 1). Why did we do this? It was explained to me that the mystery was so deep that one could only fall in silent reverence.
There are many paradoxes and seeming impossibilities in the incarnation. As mysteries they cannot be fully solved, so they claim our reverence. We genuflected in the past, and we bow today at the mention of the incarnation in the creed for it is a deep mystery.
As we approach Christmas I would like to list some of the paradoxes of Christmas. I want to say as little of them as possible, just enough to make the paradox clear. This paucity of words, not common with me, is in reverence to the mystery and also to invite your own reflection.
The Infinite One becomes an infant.
An antiphon for the Christmas season says, How can we find words to praise your dignity O Virgin Mary, for he whom the very heavens cannot contain, you carried in your womb.
An old Latin Carol (in Dulci Jublio) says, Alpha et O, Matris in Gremio – (Alpha and Omega, sitting in mommy’s lap).
He who looks down on all creation looks up to see his mother. The most high looks up from a cradle. Of this moment even the pagans wrote with longing and tenderness: Incipe, parve puer, risu cognoscere matrem….ipsa tibi blandos fundent cunabula flores, occidet et serpens, et fallax herba veneni occidet (Begin, little boy to recognize the face of your mother with a smile….For you, your own cradle will bear delightful flowers; the serpent will die, and the plant that hides its venom) – Virgil 4th Eclogue.
He who indwells all creation is born in homelessness.
He to whom all things in heaven and on earth belong, is born in poverty and neediness.
He is the mighty Word through whom all things were made. He is the very utterance of God, the Voice which summons all creation into existence. Of this Word, this Utterance, this Voice, Scritpure says, The voice of the LORD is upon the waters; the God of glory thunders, the LORD, upon many waters. The voice of the LORD is powerful, the voice of the LORD is full of majesty….The voice of the LORD flashes forth flames of fire. The voice of the LORD shakes the wilderness …The voice of the LORD makes the oaks to whirl, and strips the forests bare; and in his temple all cry, “Glory!” (Ps. 29). Yet, this voice is now heard as the cooing and crying of an infant.
His infant hand squeezes his mother’s finger, as infants do. From that same hand, the universe trumbled into existence. That same hand is steering the stars in their courses.
He who holds all creation together in himself (Col 1:17) is now held by his mother.
He who is the Bread of Life is born in Bethlehem (House of Bread) and lies in a feeding trough (manger).
He who is our sustainer and our food, is now hungry and fed by his mother.
Angels and Archangels may have gathered there, Cherubim and Seraphim thronged the air! But only his mother in her maiden bliss, could worship the beloved with a kiss. (Christina Rosetti “Ere the Bleak Mid Winter”).
Each of these is meant to be a meditation as Christmas approaches. Please add to this list!
Remember the word paradox means something that defies intuition or the common way of thinking. It unsettles or startles us to make us think more deeply. It comes from the Greek: para- + dokein. Para usually meaning “beside, off to the side,” sometimes “above,” and dokein meaning “to think or seem.” Hence a paradox is something off to the side of the usual way of seeing things or thinking about them. If you are going to relate to God you’re going to deal with a lot of paradox, for God’s ways and thinking often defy and confound human ways and thinking. God is not irrational but He often acts in ways that do not conform with worldly expectations.
This Christmas consider these paradoxes and learn from them. Remember too, mysteries are to be lived more than solved. Reverence is more proper to mystery than excessive curiosity. Here, more is learned in silence than by many words.
O Holy night! Yes, a silent night! and, it came upon a midnight clear. Christmas, it would seem, is a festival of the mid night. Jesus is born when it is dark, dark midnight. We are sure of it. And why not?
Even though we are not told the exact hour of his birth we are sure it must have been night. Scripture does say that the Shepherds who heard the glad tidings were keeping watch over their flock “by night” (cf Luke 2:9). Further the Magi sought him by the light of a star, and stars are seen at night, deep midnight. None of this is evidence that Jesus was born at 11:59 PM, but it sets our clocks for night, deep midnight.
Add to this the fact that Christmas is celebrated at the Winter solstice, the very darkest time of the year in the northern hemisphere. More specifically Christmas breaks in on the very days that the light begins its subtle return. The darkest and shortest days of the year make their impression on December 21 and 22. But by December 23 and 24 we notice a definite, but subtle trend, the days are getting longer, the light is returning! Time to celebrate the return of the light, it is going to be alright!
How fitting now, to celebrate the birth of Jesus, the true Light of the World, in a deep and dark December. Jesus our light, kindles a light and a fire that never dies away. Indeed, in the dark hours of December, we have noticed a trend. The light is returning, the darkness is abating, the days are growing longer from here on out. It is subtle now! But it will grow. And with the return of light, we celebrate our True Light: Jesus.
But light is best appreciated in contrast. We think most, and appreciate most, the glory of light when the darkness assails. There’s just something about Christmas Eve. As the time approaches through December, and the darkness grows, we light lights. Yes, all through December as the darkness grows, we light Advent candles, more as it grows darkest! Even the secular among us string lights in dark December, in malls, on their houses, as if to say, the darkness cannot win, the light conquers!
And lights have their true glory in contrast the darkness. Who sees the stars in mid day? And who appreciates the beauty of light until they have experienced the darkness? Yes, Christmas is a feast of the light. We confront the darkness of December and declare to it: “Your deepest days are over, the light is returning.” And for us of faith, we say to a world in ever deeper darkness, “Your darkness cannot remain. It wil be overcome and replaced.” For though darkness has its season, it is always conquered by the light.
An atheist recently scoffed at me on the com box of this blog that our day is over, the world has rejected faith… Sorry dear Atheist friend, the light always wins. On December 22, the darkness recedes, the light returns and all darkness is scattered. It seems subtle at first, but the light always returns, the darkness cannot last.
Light has a way of simply replacing the darkness. In three months the equinox (equal night and day) occurs, and in six months the summer solstice (the longest day) comes. And the darkness will once again seek to conquer. BUT IT ALWAYS LOSES. The light will return. Jesus is always born at the hour of darkness’ greatest moment. Just when the darkness is celebrating most, it’s hour is over, the light dawns again.
Yes we celebrate after sundown on December 24. Even at midnight. Christmas morning is almost an afterthought. Most pastors know, the majority of their people have come the “night” before. The darkness cannot win. Light scatters darkness, it overwhelms and replaces it. In a deep and dark December, a light comes forth, a star, shines in the heavens.
We gather, in and on a dark night. We smile. We are moved by the cry of a small infant, by whose voice the heavens were made. His little cry lights up the night. The darkness must go, the light has come, day is at hand.
Yes, we celebrate at night to bid farewell to the darkness. It cannot prevail. It is destined to be scattered by the Light far more powerful than it, a Light it must obey, a Light that overwhelms and replaces it. Farewell to darkness, the Light of the World has come.
Jesus the light of the world.
The video below is a celebration of light. As a Christmas gift to myself on December 22nd, the darkest day of the year, I took an afternoon off and went to photograph the triumph of light over darkness. I went to a Mausoleum, Yes, to a place where thousands are buried in the walls. But also in those walls are windows, glorious windows where light breaks through, and Christ shines forth. Some of the most beautiful stained glass in the city of Washington resides in that place of death and darkness. The light breaks through and it speaks of Christ.
This video is a testimony to just some of those windows (I am putting together another video of other windows to be shown later). In this place, a place of death, a light breaks through, the light of faith, the Light of Christ. The text of the music in this video is from Taize, and it says, Christe lux mundi, qui sequitur te, habebit lumen vitae, lumen vitae (Christ, Light of the World! Who follows you has the light of life, the light of life).
As you view this video of the Life of Christ, ponder that stained glass begins as opaque sand. But when subject to, and purified by the fire, it radiates the glory of light which can now shine through it. So it is for us. Born in darkness, but purified by Christ and the Fire of the Spirit, we begin to radiate his many splendored Light shining through us, to a dark world.
On of my problems on the blog is that I often “commit typos.” That is to say, I am lousy at proof reading my own material. A number of you send me little corregida, for which I am grateful. I do read over what I have wrote, but I read right past my errors and don see them at all. Yet this phenomenon is common in that when reading we often adjust see right past some of the most glaring of errors.
