Christmania

Here’s how it works, guys.

Go ahead and string the lights. I don’t want to have to deal with untangling the mobius strip that our Christmas lights have become, unexplainably, carefully packed in the box for the past year. While you’re at it, it would be fine if you dug through the ornaments of yesteryear to extract, wrap, and toss the ones that have molded, shattered, or grown a fifth leg.

You may as well go ahead and unwrap the tinsel, too. It looks like a muppet gone bad and I don’t even want to think about the things growing in it. No, I don’t know where more hooks are. No, you can’t use twist-ties. And no, the angel shouldn’t be that color.

I’m pretty sure the wrapping paper isn’t salvageable. Anything with that many rips, wrinkles and bite marks (?!) shouldn’t be used to spread Christmas cheer. And no, tape that you have to untangle isn’t the best option for a professional-looking gift experience. Go ahead and wear the tree skirt. It looks lovely with your pudding-stained sweater.

And put that candy cane down. Food with fur is to be avoided whenever possible.

Ahhhhh, Christmas.

The voice of one crying in the wilderness

Yesterday was the first Sunday of Advent. As R and I have begun to worship in the Anglican tradition, time has become more important. As a reformed Evangelical, the church calendar had much less importance than it typically does in the Catholic (or Anglican) traditions. Those traditions follow periods of time dependent on historical church feasts, ceremonies, or commemorations.

Be patient with me, this is still unfamiliar territory.

So yesterday marked the New Year, in terms of the church calendar. The New Year is not ushered in with fanfare and exploding lights, but in darkness, and with anticipation, like the hush before someone tries something amazing. Some traditions take this literally, putting away the harvest plenty and abundance for austerity and solemnity. A blogging friend changed out her set of dinner plates.

I find myself awash in an unfamiliar sea. Like most recent additions, I’m still finding my footing in this new tradition. I think our Anglican church is the right place for us, melting together solid, historical Christianity and teaching with the Catholic, high-church practice that is so beloved of my husband’s. And he’s the one who introduced me to the idea of daily, solemn, remembrance of Advent.

So here is my hush before the storm:

I have signed up for a “busy person’s retreat”, taking place at my university, where I meet with a guide for 30 minutes a day and commit to living in “joyful anticipation” during this week (and the whole month, till Christmas). Our family has started a Jesse tree, so the kids can take part in the geneaology of Christ. And each Sunday, the church marks the time with songs, lessons and readings that keep us mindful of the time.

And so I am still, and do less, and listen more, waiting- hoping- and watching in the time before time.

LIGHTEN our darkness, we beseech thee, O Lord; and by thy great mercy defend us from all perils and dangers of this night; for the love of thy only Son, our Saviour, Jesus Christ. Amen.

What heaven sounds like

Take ten minutes and listen to this motet by Thomas Tallis. Forty voices, no instruments. The words are below in Latin, and begin with “I have never put my hope in another, God of Israel”. Nice moments at 2:14, 2:33, 4:55, and 7:25.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Spem in alium numquam habui praeter in te

Deus Israel

qui irasceris

et propitius eris

et omnia peccata hominum in tribulatione dimittis

Domine Deus

Creator coeli et terrae

respice humilitatem nostram.

The smiling angel made me cry

From the blog of awesomeness that is New Wineskins. Speaking of feeling less than intelligent, Ultraguy does that for me in spades.

Merry Merry…

Sari Bari

I was so excited that I had to post again…my Sari Bari baby blanket came today and it’s fabu. And I don’t use that word lightly.

Sari Bari is an organization located in Kolkata, India, that works to get women affected by the sex trade working in something outside the red light district. I found out about them through my sister, who worked in Peru for a year with their partner organization, Word Made Flesh. ”Cool missionary” seems like an oxymoron, but they aren’t into proselytizing the world, just serving in the poorest areas in some of the toughest conditions imaginable.

The symbolism of the sari is potent in India, and the story about how these women remake them into blankets and bags is moving beyond words. Sari Bari provides an amazing way out of a very difficult living situation, including education, health care, and loan assistance. Not to mention that the products are  cute (and what woman can’t use another bag??). They’re still beginning, but have quite a few things available for Christmas.

Because, I mean really- how many of your purses have a story like these?