Christmas Season Archives - Spes in Domino

January 5, 2023 iacobusm Christmas and Advent, Faith and Politics

Epiphany – Faith vs. Power

Faith vs. Power –6 January 2023

The Revealing of Christ

Commit your way to the LORD;

trust in him, and he will act. . .

. . . For the wicked shall be cut off;

but those who wait for the LORD shall possess the land.

Yet a little while, and the wicked will be no more;

though you look well at his place, he will not be there.

But the meek shall possess the land,

and delight themselves in abundant prosperity. (Psalm 37: 5;9-11)

A few years back the Catholic bishops in the United States determined that they could best impress the importance of this feast on their flock by allowing local bishops conferences to move it to the nearest Sunday, rather than keeping it in its ancient home on the sixth day of the year. Whatever we may think of that decision, it does give me another opportunity of discussing those mysterious visitors to newborn Jesus described in chapter 2 of Matthew’s Gospel, the Magi.

Notre Dame - Faith v. Power — *Detail from the medieval polychrome choir screen in Paris’ Notre Dame Cathedral*, *Paris*

Faith Seeking Understanding

Let me begin with an observation from my post on last year’s liturgical celebration of Epiphany. I described the Blessed Mother as exemplifying St. Augustine’s famous description of theology: fides quaerens intellectum, “faith seeking understanding.” The Magi, too, are the very personification of fides quaerens intellectum. Their faith isn’t the Jewish faith, of course, and they’re decades too early to know the Christian faith . . . although they do come to Christ. Quite literally.

We are not sure exactly who they are where they come from. Matthew doesn’t tell us that they’re kings, or how many of them there are. He simply describes them as μάγοι ἀπὸ ἀνατολῶν, magi (sometimes translated “wise men”) from the east (Matthew 2:1). The term magi suggests that they may have been Zoroastrian priests from Persia.

In any case, they come following a star, a sign from God. They put themselves into God’s hands, trusting in him to lead them to a “newborn King of the Jews.” When they are led to a seemingly ordinary baby boy with undistinguished parents, they still trust that he is nonetheless worthy of their kingly gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Their trust in God’s guidance, that is to say their faith, is rewarded one last time when they are warned in a dream to avoid the murderous King Herod on their way home.

Faith vs. Power

Pugh Wise Men - Faith v. Power — ***Wise Men Still Seek Him***, *Print by Jennifer Pugh*

It’s all to no effect. With all his worldly power he can’t stop the coming of the Messiah, or even save his own life: he is dead shortly after the birth of Jesus, and his already small realm is divided into four even smaller pieces among his heirs.

Wise Men Still Seek Him

St. Paul tells us that “the wisdom of this world is folly with God. For it is written, ‘He catches the wise in their craftiness . . . So let no one boast of men. For all things are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future, all are yours; and you are Christs; and Christ is Gods.” (1 Corinthians 3:19; 21-22).

That’s a star we all can follow.

*Featured image: Interview of the Magi and Herod the Great, by J. James Tissot late 19th century

Music for Epiphany

Some of you may disagree, but it seems that the quality of Christmas songs sharply declines beginning in the mid twentieth century. Happily, there are some exceptions. One of them is posted below: the 1963 Bing Crosby recording of “Do You Hear What I Hear?”

The song was composed by Noël Regney and Gloria Shayne in the midst of the fear and anxiety of the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962, and a version by the Harry Simeon Chorale was released that year. Bing Crosby’s recording the following Christmas made the song a favorite. It features the star from Matthew’s Gospel, and a king who is decidedly not King Herod:

Said the king to the people everywhere
Listen to what I say! (Listen to what I say!)
Pray for peace, people, everywhere
Listen to what I say! (Listen to what I say!)
The Child, the Child sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light

Lyrics

Do you hear what I hear?

Said the night wind to the little lamb
Do you see what I see?
(Do you see what I see?)
Way up in the sky, little lamb
Do you see what I see?
(Do you see what I see?)
A star, a star, dancing in the night
With a tail as big as a kite
With a tail as big as a kite

Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
(Do you hear what I hear?)
Ringing through the sky, shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
(Do you hear what I hear?)

A song, a song high above the trees
With a voice as big as the sea
With a voice as big as the sea

Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king
Do you know what I know? (Do you know what I know?)
In your palace warm, mighty king
Do you know what I know? (Do you know what I know?)

A Child, a Child shivers in the cold
Let us bring him silver and gold
Let us bring him silver and goldSaid the king to the people everywhere
Listen to what I say! (Listen to what I say!)
Pray for peace, people, everywhere
Listen to what I say! (Listen to what I say!)

December 31, 2022 iacobusm Christmas and Advent

8th Day of Christmas – The Scandal of Mary, Mother of God and Marian Medley

Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God, 1 January 2023

**The Annunciation***, by Sandro Botticelli, c. 1485–1492*

Mother of God

You have probably heard the term “The Scandal of the Cross,” Christianity’s shocking claim that the Eternal God Himself was tortured to death in a manner usually reserved for the worst of criminals. That is only one, however, of a whole interconnected collection of Christian truth claims that are almost as shocking and scandalous.

We celebrate one of those other claims today, on the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God. The title might not sound quite as presumptuous in the original Greek formulation adopted at the Council of Ephesus in 431 A.D., Θεοτόκος (theotokos), literally, “God-bearer”, but it’s still asking a lot of human credulity. That old rascal Napoleon supposedly claimed to find Islam preferable to Christianity because it was “less ridiculous.” That is to say, it relied less on miracles and difficult concepts like the Trinity . . . or Christ’s being, at the same time, a descendant of David and the Son of God. But of course, Napoleon really believed in little other than himself.

We Christians, on the other hand, know that our calling is to conform ourselves to the Truth, not to the impossible task of somehow conforming Divine Truth to ourselves. And so we find that the Divine Motherhood of Mary becomes a source, not of perplexity, but of profound awe and wonder. Along the way we also find ourselves pondering less profound but still compelling questions. For instance, “What is it like for a human mother, even one who is ‘full of Grace’, to bring forth and raise up the Second Person of the Trinity as her child?”

Mary, Did You Know?

That particular question is the focus of the first of the three songs that Hayley Westenra sings in the video below. “Mary Did You Know?”, written by Mark Lowry and Buddy Greene, was first recorded in 1991. In the subsequent thirty years more than 30 different artists have recorded it over a wide variety of genres.

It has also become much beloved of homilists; I first heard of the song fifteen years ago in a Christmas morning homily delivered by our local bishop. The song has also become the object of quite a bit of derision in recent years. I’m not going to bog myself down in that particular debate here, except to point out the following. Mary certainly knew that Jesus was no ordinary son. She had it from an unimpeachable source. But did she really know what lay in store for her?

Luke’s Gospel

***Madonna of the Book***, *by Sandro Botticelli, 1480-1481*

Let’s take a look at what the Scriptures tell us. The Angel Gabriel himself had told her:

–

Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High; and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob for ever; and of his kingdom there will be no end. (Luke, 1:30-33)

–

But how could she possibly know all that being “the Son of the Most High” entailed? Luke’s Gospel itself makes it clear that she did not, as we see in the very next chapter:

–

After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions; and all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. And when they saw him they were astonished; and his mother said to him, “Son, why have you treated us so? Behold, your father and I have been looking for you anxiously.” And he said to them, “How is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” And they did not understand the saying which he spoke to them. (Luke, 2:46-50)

The Awe and Wonder of the Incarnation

In any case, even when we do know intellectually that something will happen, our experience of the actual event can surprise us. And that, I think, is what the song means when it asks, “Mary, did you know?” Did you know what it would really be like? A large part of the song’s appeal is that it captures the awe and wonder of the Incarnation in such a personal way:

Mary, did you know

That your baby boy will give sight to a blind man?

Mary, did you know

Your baby boy will calm a storm with his hand?

Did you know,

That your baby boy has walked where angels trod?

And when you kiss your little baby,

You’ve kissed the face of God.

What mere knowledge could possibly prepare us for that?

Angel Gabriel’s Message & O Holy Night

The second song in the medley is the old Basque carol “The Angel Gabriel’s Message.” This lovely Marian song brings us back to the Annunciation. We know that God gives us the freedom to say “no,” but the refrain “Most highly favored Lady” reminds us that he gives us all the Grace to do his will should we choose to say “yes.” Mary was given the Grace to do something that God had never asked of anyone before her, and would never ask again . . . and so all generations call her “Blessed.”

Finally, “O Holy Night,” one of my favorite Christmas songs. “Holy” means “set aside for God.” What night could be Holier than that on which “Christ was born,” the Night on which the Eternal Word became Flesh and came into our world through the agency of a human mother, a young woman who dared to say “yes” to God?

Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God

Today, the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God, is a good time to listen to some lovely music and to try to put ourselves in Mary’s place. What did it mean for the Eternal Word to become flesh as a little baby, born of a human mother named Mary? What does it mean to be the Mother of God?

Music for the Christmas Season

In the video below I combined Hayley Westenra’s live recording with images from three magnificent painting by Sandro Botticelli: Madonna of the Book, 1480-1481, The Annunciation, c. 1485–1492, The Mystical Nativity, 1500-1501.

Holy Mother of God, Pray For Us!

Today’s Mass Readings: Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God

December 30, 2022 iacobusm Christmas and Advent, The Liturgical Year

7th Day of Christmas – Christmas is Just Beginning

Mystic Nativity, Just Beginning — **Mystic Nativity,** by Sandro Botticelli, 1500

Are You Sure It’s Just Beginning?

Just beginning? Does it seem like it’s just beginning . . . ?

Some images never fade. I have a vivid memory of a Christmas years ago, shortly after my return to the Faith. The Christmas tree was literally hurled through the front door on the afternoon of Christmas Day (this at the home of relatives who shall remain unnamed).

I was struck by how switched-around things had become, how the commercial “holiday season” had so thoroughly subverted the traditional liturgical “Christmas Season.” I started noticing that the so-called “Christmas songs” blaring through PA systems in retail stores in December were not really about Christmas at all (more on this below). Since that time my Lovely Bride and I have always looked for ways to preserve and honor Advent as a season of penitence and preparation, and Christmas (all of it) in its proper place, as “Christ’s Mass.”

The Image of the Invisible God

We have found this endeavor to be more difficult than it sounds. It’s hard to be penitential when everyone around you is celebrating. Likewise, it’s difficult to celebrate when everyone else is worn out from revelry. The good news is, the Church has an answer to this problem.

Bear in mind that the Church is the visible manifestation of Christ in our world. We ourselves are both soul and body, and we usually need physical means to apprehend spiritual realities. That’s one reason why Christ became Man. He is, St. Paul tells, “the image of the invisible God” (Colossians 2:9). For the same reason he has given us tangible sacraments as pathways of grace, and the Church itself. The Church in turn has given us the liturgical calendar, so that we can live out Salvation History through our daily experience.

A Different Calendar

Most people, sadly, follow a different calendar. It takes its cues not from Salvation History, but from the priorities of the retailers. They want to get “seasonal” merchandise on the shelves before the actual season begins, and try to get it there before their competitors. As a result, over the past century the commercial “Christmas season” (now more often called the holiday season) has started earlier and earlier.

As a result, we are putting Christmas merchandise on the shelves in September. At the same time, the Christmas-themed music (about celebrating Christmas, or maybe just the “wonderful time of year,” rather than about the Nativity of Jesus itself) begins blaring out of the stores’ PA systems. The stores stop receiving Christmas items in mid-December and begin selling down their supplies, because once “the holiday” is over (i.e., December 25th . . . what’s that holiday called again?) they don’t want to be stuck with a lot of overstock (which means financial losses). In our post-Christian culture, the commercial Christmas season and its advertising sets the tone for society as a whole. Consequently, for most people Christmas is now over.

The Real Christmas Season

But not for those of us who are followers of the Babe lying in the manger. Today is the seventh of eight days in the Octave of Christmas, all of which days are solemnities. Beyond that, the customary “Twelve Days of Christmas” extend until January 5th, the day before the traditional date of the Feast of Epiphany. The formal Christmas Season itself extends until the Baptism of the Lord, this year on January 9th.

Some Catholics observe Christmas informally until the Feast of the Presentation on February 2nd. Saint John Paul II did so even as Pope, as did my lovely bride’s Polish forebears. In other words, Christmas is not yet even half-way through.

Granted, keeping Christmas when it ought to be kept can be hard, especially when we have all been living and working in an environment reveling in the “holiday spirit” during what was supposed to be the preparatory Season of Advent. Most of our world is now wearily going back about its business just when the real celebration is just starting.

That’s where the Liturgical Calendar comes to our rescue. There we find, as in, for instance, the Feast of St. John the Apostle, that while the Incarnation points to the Crucifixion, it is only through the suffering and death of Christ that we come to the Triumph of the Resurrection. Our Celebration of Christmas, then, is not mere revelry in defiance of the cruelty of reality.

True Celebration

Nor is it a vain attempt to deny that tragedy. It is true celebration because we know that, precisely because of that cruel reality, the Child born in Bethlehem has come to take us through the brokenness of this world and beyond. He has come to share with us something “no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived” (1 Corinthians 2:9).

Yes, the Christmas Season is just beginning, even if it doesn’t always feel like it. When I began my first blog almost a decade ago, I set out to keep myself focused on the True Season by posting something related to that particular day for every one of the Twelve Days of Christmas. I’ve kept that tradition up to the present day, even during years when I’ve posted almost nothing else. Please feel free to join me for the rest of the Season, and have a very Merry Christmas!

May God Bless Us, every one!

Music for Christmas

Today’s Christmas song is “The Wexford Carol,” featuring an all-star cast headed by Alison Kraus and the cellist Yo-Yo Ma, along with Natalie MacMaster, Shane Shanahan, and Christina Pato. I have posted the notes from the video and the lyrics below.

The Wexford Carol (Carúl Loch Garman, Carúl Inis Córthaidh) is a traditional religious Irish Christmas carol originating from County Wexford, and specifically, Enniscorthy (whence its other name), and dating to the 12th century.

Good people all, this Christmas-time,
Consider well and bear in mind
What our good God for us has done,
In sending His beloved Son.
With Mary holy we should pray
To God with love this Christmas Day:
In Bethlehem upon that morn
There was a blessed Messiah born.

Near Bethlehem did shepherds keep
Their flocks of lambs and feeding sheep;
To whom God’s angels did appear,
Which put the shepherds in great fear.
“Prepare and go,” the angels said,
“To Bethlehem, be not afraid;
For there you’ll find this happy morn
A princely Babe, sweet Jesus born.”

With thankful heart and joyful mind,
The shepherds went this Babe to find,
And as God’s angel had foretold,
They did our Saviour Christ behold.
Within a manger He was laid,
And by his side the Virgin Maid,
Attending on the Lord of life,
Who came on earth to end all strife.

Good people all, this Christmas-time,
Consider well and bear in mind
What our good God for us has done,
In sending His beloved Son.

December 27, 2022December 22, 2024 iacobusm Christmas and Advent, Faith and Politics, The Liturgical Year, Uncategorized

4th Day of Christmas – Holy Innocents and St. Vincent of Lerins

The 4th Day of Christmas

Merry Christmas, on this the 4th day of Christmas! The Holy Season is well upon us, and today we see it in all its complexity: we’re still singing carols and chiming bells, while at the same time recoiling from the horror of King Herod’s mass infanticide at Bethlehem, as commemorated in today’s Feast of the Holy Innocents.

Today’s feast reminds us not only of enormities committed against innocent life in our own day, but also that the baby lying in the wooden manger has escaped Herod’s wrath only so that he might die thirty years later on the wooden beams of the cross.

Holy Innocents and St. Anthony of Lerins

St. Anthony of Lerins - Holy Innocents — St. Anthony of Lerins

The Feast of the Holy Innocents is, of course, the chief liturgical observance in the Church today. There are any number of fine reflections on the witness of these tiny martyrs. See here and here, for example. Here also is my post from last year: Holy Innocents and the Saving Power of Christmas Carols.

This year I’m taking a different approach. As I observed in my recent posts on St. Servulus, St. Nicasius, and St. Anastasia, lesser observances are often overwhelmed during great celebrations such as Christmas and Easter. There are, in fact other saints commemorated today, whose memory can be completely buried under the combined weight of the Feast of the Holy Innocents and the ongoing celebration of the Nativity of Our Lord. One of these is St. Anthony of Lerins (also known as St. Anthony the Hermit). As we shall see, there are some interesting ways in which this saint’s story complements that of the tiny martyrs of Bethlehem.

The Attraction of Sanctity

As it happens, St. Anthony would probably be just as happy to be ignored, if his life here on earth is any indication. He born in the year 468 AD at Valeria in the region that the Romans had called Lower Pannonia, but which at this time was controlled by the Huns.

Fortunately, Christian life continued despite the hegemony of the pagan Huns. Anthony enjoyed the blessing of growing up among holy men. He lived for a time with St. Severinus of Noricum after his father died in Anthony’s ninth year. When St. Severinus himself died a few years later, Anthony moved to the household of his uncle Constantius, who was the bishop of Lorsch in what is now Bavaria. When he reached adulthood he became a hermit in the area of Lake Como in northern Italy.

As is often the case with holy hermits, his sanctity attracted a large number of followers. Seeking to recapture a little of the solitude for which he embraced the eremitical life, Anthony moved on yet again. Eventually, he settled in Lerins in France, where he spent his final two years on earth . . . and where the would-be recluse became famous (yet again!) throughout the district for sanctity and miracle-working.

Power Made Perfect

In the story of St. Anthony of Lerins we see a couple of themes that connect him to today’s commemoration of the Holy Innocents, and to the Child in the manger in whose honor we are celebrating this entire liturgical season. St. Paul tells us in his Second Letter to the Corinthians:

[The Lord] said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” I will all the more gladly boast of my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Thoughout Salvation History

*Attila the Hun, by Eugène Delacroix, 1843-1847*

We see God’s propensity to reveal his power in weakness throughout salvation history. The preeminent example is when the infinite Second Person of the Trinity, the Eternal Word, manifests himself in this world as a tiny baby lying in a feeding trough in a stable. We also see it in the helplessness of the Holy Innocents slaughtered at Bethlehem.

This propensity appears yet again in the life of a simple man who wanted nothing more than to live a life of holiness with his Lord. Isn’t it interesting that on this day when we commemorate the sacrifice of those children, and the sanctity of St. Anthony, the powers that loomed so large in their lifetimes are only dim memories. The power of King Herod, and of the Huns under whose rule Anthony was born, has long since crumbled, and their names have become little more than bywords for cruelty and violence.

It’s not that the power of the Herods, Huns, and other worldly tyrants has had no lasting effect. It’s just that their “power” doesn’t accomplish what they expect. St. Paul again provides us with the key when he says: “We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

What God Wills

We see this idea applied in the non-scriptural passage in today’s Office of Readings, a homily on the slaughter of the Holy Innocents by St. Quodvultdeus (his name means “What God wills” in Latin). Addressing King Herod our homilist says:

Yet your throne is threatened by the source of grace – so small, yet so great – who is lying in the manger. He is using you, all unaware of it, to work out his own purposes freeing souls from captivity to the devil. He has taken up the sons of the enemy into the ranks of God’s adopted children.

God makes all things work for the good of those who love him, including the evil machinations of wicked men like Herod. How much more so, then, the good things in the life of a holy man like St. Anthony of Lerins. God gives us his gifts not so much for our own sake, but so that we might use them in the service of others, to help free their souls, as the homilist above puts it, from captivity to the devil. St. Anthony was seeking a quiet life of prayer and contemplation, but God gave him the grace to desire such a life, and the power to perform miracles, so that he might sanctify the people among whom he was living. Let us all pray for the grace to embrace likewise God’s gifts to us, and to use them for Quod Deus Vult: What God Wills.

Featured Image top of page: The Massacre of the Innocents, by Sano di Pietro, c. 1470

Today’s Mass Readings: Feast of the Holy Innocents

Music For Christmas: Coventry Carol

An interesting note: at one time, the story of these poor murdered children itself inspired a large number of songs. The best known today (the only one, it appears, that is still regularly performed) is the “Coventry Carol” (lyrics below), dating from the 16th century. In the clip below Collegium Vocale Gent performs the song, with Peter Dijkstra conducting. The artwork in the video is Sano di Pietro’s 1470 painting “Massacre of the Innocents.”

Coventry Carol

1. Lullay, Thou little tiny Child,
By, by, lully, lullay.
Lullay, Thou little tiny Child.
By, by, lully, lullay.

2. O sisters, too, how may we do,
For to preserve this day;
This poor Youngling for whom we sing,
By, by, lully, lullay.

3. Herod the King, in his raging,
Charged he hath this day;
His men of might, in his own sight,
All children young, to slay.

4. Then woe is me, poor Child, for Thee,
And ever mourn and say;
For Thy parting, nor say nor sing,
By, by, lully, lullay.
Lully, lulla, thou little tiny child,
By by, lully lullay.

December 25, 2022 iacobusm Christmas and Advent, The Liturgical Year

2nd Day of Christmas – St. Stephen and the Incarnation

St. Stephen, Protomartyr

St. Stephen is the first Christian to follow Christ all the way. His feast is the first day after Christmas, of course. But we also call him the protomartyr, the First Martyr. He was the first to follow Christ all the way, to his own Calvary.

We’ve observed that the wooden manger, a couple of planks laid across two trestles, foreshadows the wooden beams of the Cross. If that’s a little too subtle an indication of what the incarnation is about, there’s this. On the Second Day of Christmas, when the dishes from Christmas dinner have hardly had time to dry and be put away, we celebrate the Feast of St. Stephen. He is the protomartyr, the first Christian to die for the Faith after the death of Christ himself. Could there possibly be a more jarring reminder that our Joy is not care-free? That Grace is not cheap? Or that the Nativity leads directly to the Crucifixion?

Full of the Spirit and of Wisdom

St. Stephen himself was one of the original deacons, who were chosen in the following way:

And the twelve summoned the body of the disciples and said, “It is not right that we should give up preaching the word of God to serve tables. Therefore, brethren, pick out from among you seven men of good repute, full of the Spirit and of wisdom, whom we may appoint to this duty. But we will devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word.” (Acts 6:2-4)

Lord, Do Not Hold This Sin Against Them

Despite being appointed “to serve tables”, Stephen, like his fellow Deacon Philip, was in fact also called upon to preach the word of God (Acts 7). This is what leads to his death. Here is St. Luke’s description of St. Stephen’s witness:

But he [Stephen], full of the Holy Spirit, gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God; and he said, “Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing at the right hand of God.” But they cried out with a loud voice and stopped their ears and rushed together upon him. Then they cast him out of the city and stoned him; and the witnesses laid down their garments at the feet of a young man named Saul. And as they were stoning Stephen, he prayed, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” And he knelt down and cried with a loud voice, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” And when he had said this, he fell asleep.

And Saul was consenting to his death. (Acts 7:55-8:1)

The Power of Christ

St. Stephen’s story is a reminder that we all have different roles to play. All of us, however, are called upon to witness to the Gospel (μάρτυς, the Greek word from which we get the word martyr, means “witness”).

The very origin of that word shows us that the simple fact of being a witness to Christ provokes opposition. Sometimes strong, sometimes violent, opposition. But note the young man Saul (the future St. Paul, Apostle and Martyr), who looks on in approval. He may even be a leader or instigator of St. Stephen’s stoning. It’s possible that the example of the protomartyr helped to prepare him for his eventual conversion. Who knows, maybe the ferocity of his persecution of Christians between Stephen’s death and his own encounter with the risen Christ was borne of a desperate resistance to the gentle promptings that were stirring in his heart. In any case, we see that we should not be discouraged even by the strongest opposition. The power of Christ is stronger still. We need to do our part, and trust Him to do the rest.

Joy, Sorrow, and Glory

And so if we take the long view, commemorating the death of the First Martyr at this time is not at all strange. The Liturgical Calendar reminds us, on the Second Day of Christmas, that we need to embrace the Gospel in its entirety. The joy of the Nativity leads to the sorrow of Cavalry, which itself prepares the way for the still greater glory of Easter. As St. Peter puts it:

There is cause for rejoicing here. You may for a time have to suffer the distress of many trials; but this is so that your faith, which is more precious than the passing splendor of fire-tried gold, may by its genuineness lead to praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ appears. (1 Peter. 1:6-7)

Featured image top of page: The Stoning of St. Stephen by Rembrandt Van Rijn, 1625

St. Stephen, First Martyr: Today’s Mass Readings

Music for Christmas

Cantar Community Choir sing “Good King Wenceslas” on the steps of Castle Howard, 20th December 2015.

To learn more about the connection between St. Stephen and Good King Wencelas, see “St. Stephen, Good King Wenceslas & The Power of Christ’s Love“.

January 5, 2022 iacobusm Christmas and Advent, Faith and Politics

Epiphany: Faith v. Power

Commit your way to the LORD;

trust in him, and he will act. . .

. . . For the wicked shall be cut off;

but those who wait for the LORD shall possess the land.

Yet a little while, and the wicked will be no more;

though you look well at his place, he will not be there.

But the meek shall possess the land,

and delight themselves in abundant prosperity. (Psalm 37: 5;9-11)

In the earliest days of the Church Epiphany was one of the most important observances, perhaps second only to the great Feast of the Resurrection at Easter. Even before Christmas existed as a Christian holy day, believers gathered on January 6th to celebrate the Epiphany, i.e., the “revealing” of Jesus as the Son of God in some combination of the Incarnation and the Nativity, the visit of the Magi, and the Baptism of Jesus. A few years back the Catholic bishops in the United States determined that they could best impress the importance of this feast on their flock by moving it to the nearest Sunday, rather than keeping it in its ancient home on the sixth day of the year. Whatever we may think of that decision, it does give me another opportunity of discussing those mysterious visitors to newborn Jesus described in chapter 2 of Matthew’s Gospel, the Magi.

*Detail from the medieval polychrome choir screen in Paris’ Notre Dame Cathedral*, *Paris*

Let me begin with an observation from my post on this year’s liturgical celebration of Epiphany this past Sunday. I described the Blessed Mother as exemplifying St. Augustine’s famous description of theology: fides quaerens intellectum, “faith seeking wisdom.” The Magi, too, are the very personification of fides quaerens intellectum. Their faith isn’t the Jewish faith, of course, and they’re decades too early to know the Christian faith . . . although they do come to Christ. We are not sure exactly who they are where they come from. Matthew doesn’t tell us that they’re kings, or how many of them there are. He simply describes them as μάγοι ἀπὸ ἀνατολῶν, magi (sometimes translated “wise men”) from the east (Matthew 2:1). The term magi suggests that they may have been Zoroastrian priests from Persia. In any case, they come following a star, a sign from God. They put themselves into God’s hands, trusting in him to lead them to a “newborn King of the Jews.” When they are led to a seemingly ordinary baby boy with undistinguished parents, they still trust that he is nonetheless worthy of their kingly gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Their trust in God’s guidance, that is to say their faith, is rewarded one last time when they are warned in a dream to avoid the murderous King Herod on their way home.

Ah yes, let’s not forget Herod. Where the Magi embody trust in God, Herod is the man of action who puts his trust in his own worldly power. His lack of faith blinds him. He’s unaware of the Messiah being born in his own backyard. He lives in mortal fear of losing his power (which is not, in fact his own power at all: he is a puppet kinglet under the control of the Emperor across the sea in Rome, who can remove him at his pleasure). In his fear and rage, he lashes out with deadly violence against the innocent baby boys of Bethlehem. It’s all to no effect. With all his worldly power he can’t stop the coming of the Messiah, or even save his own life: he is dead shortly after the birth of Jesus, and his already small realm is divided into four even smaller pieces among his heirs.

Wise Men Still Seek Him, *Print by Jennifer Pugh*

We can learn a lot from the faith of the Magi. There is a popular meme that has made its way onto countless Christmas cards: a picture of the Magi with the inscription “Wise Men Still Seek Him.” How often do we, who have the full revelation of Jesus Christ and his Gospel, instead seek our own worldly agenda, following the example of miserable King Herod? St. Paul tells us that “the wisdom of this world is folly with God. For it is written, ‘He catches the wise in their craftiness . . . So let no one boast of men. For all things are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future, all are yours; and you are Christs; and Christ is Gods.” (1 Corinthians 3:19; 21-22).

That’s a star we all can follow.

Music for Epiphany

Some of you may disagree, but it seems that the quality of Christmas songs sharply declines beginning in the mid twentieth century. Happily, here are some exceptions. One of them is posted below: the 1963 Bing Crosby recording of “Do You Hear What I Hear?”

The song was composed by Noël Regney and Gloria Shayne in the midst of the fear and anxiety of the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962, and a version by the Harry Simeon Chorale was released that year. Bing Crosby’s recording the follwing Christmas made the song a favorite. It features the star from Matthew’s Gospel, and a king who is decidedly not King Herod:

Featured image: Interview of the Magi and Herod the Great, by J. James Tissot late 19th century

Lyrics

Do you hear what I hear?

Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
(Do you hear what I hear?)
Ringing through the sky, shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
(Do you hear what I hear?)

A song, a song high above the trees
With a voice as big as the sea
With a voice as big as the sea

Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king
Do you know what I know? (Do you know what I know?)
In your palace warm, mighty king
Do you know what I know? (Do you know what I know?)

January 3, 2022 iacobusm Christmas and Advent

11th Day of Christmas: Christmas Bells – The Wrong Shall Fail, The Right Prevail

Merry Christmas! This is the Eleventh Day of Christmas, with still more Christmas to come.

Today I’d like to take a look at a particularly moving Christmas song. There’s a story behind the creation of every song, and sometimes knowing the story can make the song all the more meaningful. This is one of my favorites.

The story begins on Christmas Day, 1863, when the American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote a poem called “Christmas Bells”.

Wadsworth starts his poem with church bells ringing out the joy of Christmas:

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
and wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Henry, Charles, Ernest, and Frances Longfellow

The poet, however, was not filled with unmixed good cheer. His wife had recently died a tragic death in a house fire, and he had just received news that his son Charles, who had left without his knowledge or consent to fight in the bitter Civil War that was then embroiling the United States, had been wounded in battle. Longfellow, himself struggling with sorrow in the midst of our most festive season, juxtaposes the joyful ringing of bells in “The belfries of all Christendom” with the manifest lack of peace among men:

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

These images of war and shattered homes seem to give the lie to the joyful promise of the Christmas Bells:

And in despair I bowed my head;
“There is no peace on earth,” I said;
“For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”

Christ came, of course, not simply to bring joy: he came to free us from the power of sin. Our Faith is grounded in Christian Hope, which is the confidence that the Power of God is greater than the power of hate, and stronger than hate’s master. Longfellow’s closing stanza resolves the conflict between Christmas joy and the sin and violence of this world with a ringing assertion of Christian Hope:

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men.”

Longfellow, who had very powerful incentives to turn to despair, instead created a poem that shows us that the joy of Christmas is not a denial of the brokenness of this world, but God’s answer to it.

      Longfellow’s poem has been put to music numerous times over the past century and a half (usually under the title, “I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day”). I’ve long been familiar with Johnny Cash’s rendition of the song; more recently, I heard a similar arrangement of lyrics set to a very different tune by the Christian group Casting Crowns.
    And there are different arrangements of Longfellow’s original poem. Curiously, none of the musical adaptations that I have found have included Longfellow’s 4th and 5th stanzas, with their references to thundering cannon and forlorn households.  The Johnny Cash version also moves stanza 3 (“Till ringing, singing . . .”) behind Longfellow’s concluding stanza (“God is not dead . . .”), and then repeats the “God is not dead” stanza.  The effect is to de-emphasize the concrete reasons for the speaker’s cry of despair, and give greater emphasis to the redemptive conclusion.  It seems to me that the change robs the song of some of it’s  narrative coherence (why should the speaker “bow his head in despair” after hearing “peace on earth, good will to men”?). Not only that, by replacing those tangible examples of suffering with the abstraction “hate”,  they deprive the poem of much of its dramatic power.  I suppose the song-makers thought those images too heavy for a Christmas song, but in fact they are a stark reminder of why the coming of the Messiah is “Good tidings of great joy” (Luke 2:10).
    For all that, the sense of Longfellow’s poem still comes through in the song: the joyful celebration of Christmas seems to be mocked by the all-too-evident evil in the world (and is there any one of us who is not, right now, directly aware of some reason for anger or sorrow?).  The conclusion reminds us that the Child lying in the wooden manger will one day hang upon a wooden cross, precisely so that he might carry us through those evils to the feet of His Father. When we learn about the real suffering that the author of those words was experiencing as he wrote them, we can experience the song, not as sentimentality or empty platitude, but as a true triumph of Christian Hope. Let the bells peal loud and deep!

Featured image above from: http://archivalmoments.ca/tag/church-bells/

Music for Christmas

The video below features the Dittmer family performing the Johnny Cash version of “I heard the Bells on Christmas Day.” This shorter rendition leaves out the “Ringing, singing” stanza and omits Cash’s repetition of the “God is not dead” stanza.

January 2, 2022 iacobusm Christmas and Advent

10th Day of Christmas: The Christ Child and St. Genevieve

“Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them; for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 19:14)

. . . and a little child shall lead them. (Isaiah 11:6)

Merry Christmas! Today is the 10th Day of Christmas, as we continue to celebrate the birth of our Lord and Creator as a little human child. It is helpful when we think about the meaning of the Nativity to remember that our ancestors generally did not fully share our sentimentality towards children. Our God, however, never fails to defy our expectations, and the quotes above, from Our Lord Himself and from the prophet Isaiah, would indeed have been startling to previous generations.

**Annointing of David by Saul**, *by Felix-Joseph Barrias, 1842*

All the same, throughout the Old Testament we see that God has a way of working in the world through small and apparently innocuous instruments (which I explore in more depth in my post from the 4th Sunday of Advent): through Joseph, a young boy sold into slavery (Genesis 37:18-36), or David, who was so young and unimpressive that his father Jesse left him in the fields when the prophet Samuel came to choose a new king from among Jesse’s sons (1 Samuel 16). When God shows Himself to the prophet Elijah, he comes in the form of a tiny whisper (1 Kings: 11-13).

The quote from Isaiah, “and a little child shall lead them,” could be taken in a figurative sense, of course, but it’s always wise to take into account the literal meaning of prophetic utterances. Likewise in Matthew’s Gospel, shortly before Jesus orders his disciples to let the little children come to him, we find this passage :

At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them, and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:1-4)

So, we need to become like children ourselves – but how is that supposed to work?

Happily, we see an example in one of today’s saints, St. Genevieve. Attracted by the sanctity of the man who is today known as St. Germanus, Genevieve became a consecrated virgin at only seven years old. She lived to an impressive old age of 89 years, through which her faith was tried in many different ways, but she never lost her child-like trust in her Lord. Her steadfast faith earned the respect of the pagan Frankish king Childeric, and turned aside the ravaging horde of Attila the Hun from Paris (for which reason she is Patroness of that city). Miracles attributed to her intercession have continued for more than a millennium and a half since her death.

*St. Genevieve (illuminated illustration from Butler’s Lives of the Saints, found at http://www.catholictradition.org/Saints/saints1-3.htm)*

While St. Genevieve’s faith was child-like, it did not remain childish: as she grew older, her understanding deepened, and she took on the role of a mature, responsible woman in matters such as the performance of charitable deeds and the supervision and instruction of other consecrated virgins (undertaken at the request of her mentor St. Germanus). As we saw above, she even knew how to deal with kings. What did not change was the absolute trust she had in Jesus Christ, from her first vow as a seven year old until her death more than eight decades later. From her teens when her piety and sanctity earned her scorn and persecution, through her later years when she serenely faced the menace of the Huns, she put herself unreservedly in the hands of God.

Such steadfast faith does not come to us easily. It doesn’t come at all, in fact, without the gift of God’s Grace. But who can we trust if we can’t trust the God who became a little child among us, and showed us how to say, even in the final extremity, “Into Your hands, Lord, I commend my Spirit” (Luke 23:46)? Just as little children have an unquestioning confidence that their parents will take care of them, we are called to follow the example of St. Genevieve in putting ourselves in the hands of God, the God who came to us as a little baby in a manger.

Music for Christmas

Our musical selection for the 10th Day of Christmas is Angels We Have Heard on High, as performed by the George Fox University Choir. The music for this beloved Christmas song is from the traditional French Carol Gloria. The words are a loose rendering made by English Catholic Bishop James Chadwick in 1862 of another French song, Les Anges dans nos campagnes.

January 1, 2022 iacobusm Christmas and Advent

8th Day of Christmas: The Scandal of Mary, Mother of God and Marian Medley

**The Mystical Nativity**, *by Sandro Botticelli. 1500-1501*

We celebrate one of those other claims today, on the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God. The title might not sound quite as presumptuous in the original Greek formulation adopted at the Council of Ephesus in 431 A.D., Θεοτόκος (theotokos), literally, “God-bearer”, but it’s still asking a lot of human credulity. That old rascal Napoleon supposedly claimed to find Islam preferable to Christianity because it was “less ridiculous”, that is to say, less reliant on miracles and difficult concepts like the Trinity . . . or Christ’s being, at the same time, a descendant of David and the Son of God. But of course, Napoleon really believed in little other than himself.

As Christians, on the other hand, we know that we are called to conform ourselves to the Truth, not to the impossible task of somehow conforming Divine Truth to ourselves. And so we find that the Divine Motherhood of Mary becomes a source, not of perplexity, but of profound awe and wonder. Along the way we also find ourselves pondering less profound but still compelling questions such as, “What is it like for a human mother, even one who is ‘full of Grace’, to bring forth and raise up the Second Person of the Trinity as her child?”

That particular question is explored in the first of the three songs performed by Hayley Westenra in the video below. “Mary Did You Know?”, written by Mark Lowry and Buddy Greene, was first recorded in 1991. In the subsequent thirty years it has been recorded by more than 30 different artists over a wide variety of genres. It has also become much beloved of homilists; I first heard of the song fifteen years ago in a Christmas morning homily delivered by the bishop of Portland, Maine. A large part of the song’s appeal, I think, is that it captures the awe and wonder of the Incarnation in such a personal way:

Mary, did you know

That your baby boy will give sight to a blind man?

Mary, did you know

Your baby boy will calm a storm with his hand?

Did you know,

That your baby boy has walked where angels trod?

And when you kiss your little baby,

You’ve kissed the face of God.

Today, the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God, is a good time to listen to some lovely music and think about what it means for the Eternal Word to become flesh as a little baby, born of a human mother named Mary.

Featured image, top of page: Madonna of the Book, by Sandro Botticelli, 1480-1481

December 31, 2021 iacobusm Christmas and Advent

7th Day of Christmas: What Exactly is The Christmas Season?

Merry 7th day of Christmas!

Yes, it’s still Christmas. It may not look it out in the world. You wouldn’t know it from the retail stores. They were glittering with red, green, and gold, and were filled with insistent “holiday” themed music from Halloween until exactly a week ago. When those same stores opened their doors for business on December 26th, it was all gone. The only sign of the pre-Christmas frenzy now is the clearance section with “holiday” merchandise marked down to 50%. In our post-Christian culture the commercial Christmas season and its advertising sets the tone for the culture as a whole, and so for most people Christmas, sadly, is now over.

*Heirloom angel on the family Christmas tree*

But not for those of us who are followers of the Babe Lying in the Manger. Christmas is a season that began just a week ago and extends until . . . well, just how long does it last? Most people, even in the secular world, are familiar with the song “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” A few years back when I was new to bloggery, I ran across a pamphlet in out parish Church with ideas about how to keep The Twelve Days of Christmas. I decided that good way for me to do that would be to write a new blog post for each of the twelve days, along with a Christmas music clip. It would help me stay focused on the celebration of the Nativity, and I hoped, be a help to my readers as well. I have continued to do so for the past eight years, even during a few years when I was doing little other bloggery. I would rerun old Christmas posts (always with some revision, either minor or extensive), as well as writing at least one brand new piece (such as this year’s discussion of St. Anastasia).

What with all this talk about The Twelve Days of Christmas, one might get the impression that Christmas ends after only twelve days, on the Feast of Epiphany (traditional date January 6^th, the thirteenth day after Christmas Day itself, although this year the official observance is on January 2nd). In fact, the Church’s official Christmas Season extends until the Baptism of The Lord, which is the Sunday after Epiphany, and in some places (Eastern Europe, for instance), the informal celebration continues until the Feast of the Presentation on February 2^nd. During his pontificate, Pope St. John Paul II celebrated Christmas until the Presentation, and Pope Benedict XVI did the same. I couldn’t say whether Pope Francis has followed suit, but we do so in our home, in keeping with my Lovely Bride’s Polish heritage . . . or, at least, that’s our excuse.

*Warsaw, Poland during the Christmas Season (image from* **Travel Triangle***, https://traveltriangle.com/blog/christmas-in-poland/)*

The entire Christmas Season, then, is like a series of ripples of decreasing intensity emanating from the Feast of the Nativity itself on December 25th. Christmas Day is the first day in the Octave of Christmas, a period of eight days, all solemnities (a solemnity is a liturgical feast of the highest rank), culminating in The Solemnity of Mary Mother of God on January 1st; January 2-5 fill out the rest of the Twelve Days, but are not official feast days ; the days between Epiphany (traditionally January 6^th, now officially the 2^nd Sunday after the Nativity) and the Baptism of Our Lord on the following Sunday are included in the Christmas Season, but are observed in a much more low-key way. Those of us who just aren’t ready to let go of Christmas can privately follow the Eastern European tradition and continue until February 2^nd, but the Liturgical Calendar has already moved on.

There are some people who don’t see the point of all this complexity: why not just celebrate Christmas and be done with it? But the Liturgical Calendar is not just about commemorating past events: it’s about experiencing the events of Salvation History in our own lives. Big events require a period of preparation, such as Advent (and any of us who have lived in a household expecting a baby know how busy the preparations become in those last few weeks); likewise, the excitement and celebration gradually recede after the event, as life slowly returns to a routine. We can’t just switch it on and off in a day or two.

Today, the seventh day of the Octave of Christmas, we’re still in celebration mode: the Christmas candles are burning, the tree is still blazing with lights, and the joyful sounds of Christmas Carols still fill the air. So, Merry Christmas! There’s still plenty of Christmas left.

Featured image top of page: The Nativity with the Prophets Isaiah and Ezekiel, by Duccio di Buoninsegna, 1308-1311

Music for Christmas