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anointed, Christ, Happy New Year, John, love, new year's resolutions, practice, spiritual life, St. Paul, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, truth
I presume it is intentional on the part of those charged with the choice of liturgical texts to have the first reading today (1 JN 2:18-21) begin with the words, “Children, it is the last hour…” Scholars have said that the author was writing to the Christian community to strengthen them against those (“antichrists”) who were spreading untruths about the Christ and about what faithful disciples believed to be imminent, i.e. the fact that Christ would be returning soon to the benefit of “the anointed ones.” It sounds like a serious moment of choice about belief and how to live it. In a way, we might see an analogy in the situation of Americans today. Clearly we are on the cusp of great – one might even say stunning – changes in our country, and it is becoming clearer that similar scenarios are being played out in other parts of the world as well.
It is not my intention this morning to reflect on such weighty topics as are before us all, but it is, in fact, the last day of the year (my reason for commenting on the intentionality of liturgical scholars). My thoughts today are clearly personal – and actually contrived in a way. Regular readers may have noticed that there was no blog post yesterday. Circumstances were some of the reason but there was a small part of me that wanted to postpone until this day – the cusp of a new year. You see, this post, as incredible as it seems to me, is the 1,000th almost-daily “word” that has appeared here. I have thought on occasion of giving up the practice, but since our readership has remained somewhat steady, with incremental increases on occasion (561 at this point), and since it is now, in fact, a practice for me, I see it as a benefit in my own spiritual life. Since this is the moment for resolutions about personal betterment in the coming year I suppose I should do my best to re-energize my commitment to deepening the totality of all things spiritual in my life and let the postings take shape from that place.
Because I have come to believe, as St. Paul clearly stated, that none of us lives as our own master, concluding that we are all one in Christ (and I would venture in our day to add “in humanity”), my strongest desire for this daily work is for us all to grow together. To that purpose I will continue to search for deeper expressions of truth and the love upon which I base all my beliefs. May all of our resolutions lead us day by day to the unity and peace that is surely possible if we move toward it together. And tomorrow may we awaken with a willingness to commit to that future as we wish those we meet a Happy New Year.
The suggestion of a commentary on Psalm 96, subtitled by author Lynn Bauman A Song Welcoming the Holy One, is that readers experiment with singing rather than saying it because singing is a “vehicle for communication with God.” While this is the rightful presentation of psalms in liturgy, I don’t often think of it as a mode of private prayer. I just tried it – in the privacy of my own room, of course – and the result was less than stellar. I have to admit, however, that I didn’t prepare; I just sang it “cold” without thought of the meaning, phrasing, timing or cadence. (Hmmm…that sounds as if I have some idea of musicality. Don’t be fooled!) My attempt was quite timid, but I must say it had the potential to open the words to me in a more vibrant way than if I had spoken the text. Perhaps I’ll give it another try. Should you be moved to join me from afar, here are the words I was tentatively offering as morning praise to the Creator of the universe.
The “common cold” has been getting a lot of attention recently. We’ve been warned about the danger of being heedless as it could lead to pneumonia – and that to death, especially for the elderly. Whether it be an excess of caution or a very serious infection, Queen Elizabeth of England has joined the ranks of those of us afflicted in this season, to the extent that she missed participating in her traditional Christmas church service for the first time in 30 years!
I probably should have said something gleaned from Meg Wheatley’s book, 
The prophet Isaiah has had a lot to say during the season of Advent and today, when Christians celebrate the feast of the Nativity of Jesus the Christ, there are four different possibilities from the Roman Catholic lectionary for reflection on those prophecies. Whether from the vigil Mass, the Mass during the night, at dawn or during the day today, this prolific book of the Hebrew Scriptures is a call to attention, recognition and renewal in God’s love. My favorite is always IS 9:1-6, which speaks of the light seen by the people who have been walking in darkness. I should remember to read it more often for the sheer poetry of it. This morning two things stand out.
Tonight there will be candles lit all over the world in celebration of light. In a wonderful coincidence (a happening of two things at once) not only will Christians celebrate the birth of the Christ beginning with vigil services in the evening, Midnight Mass, and/or celebrations tomorrow throughout the morning, but this year will also see tonight the lighting of the first candles as Jewish families and congregations begin the eight days of Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights, celebrating the dedication of the temple in Jerusalem.
I’m thinking about laundry this morning, specifically the necessity of working really hard to get spots off clothes – usually new ones that I’ve just worn for the first or second time. It would be nice to just drop a little bleach on the salad dressing or beet juice or whatever has created the offending stain, but that only means total ruin of the garment. It might have helped the biblical fuller though – the one from the third chapter of Malachi (3:2) where “the one who is to come” will be like the refiner’s fire or like the fuller’s lye. I remember from my childhood that lye soap was the strongest kind, used in the big laundry sink where clothes got really scrubbed on the washboard. It’s a vague memory, blotted out by modern conveniences like a wringer-less washing machine and every kind of spot remover possible to human invention. Our lives have been made easier in lots of ways but it would be unfortunate to lose the meaning of this analogy in Malachi’s prophecy.
I am unable this morning to sort through the many thoughts running through my head to find coherence. Everywhere my eye falls or a synapse fires, another topic appears like a small rivulet that cannot find the stream, so I call on Joyce Rupp for a word suitable for this day. Here is what she offers:
This morning there was a shaft of light across my bed as I was throwing back the covers. I thought something – the wind or some animal – had tripped the light over the carport outside. When I looked out I saw a brilliant waning moon with the nearby morning star shining in response to its light. I don’t know when I first heard the line: The morning star shines clear in the sky, offering it the Word of Life, but it always comes to me automatically when I catch sight of that loveliness.
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