CANTICLES

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for today, December 22, is, “Canticles.”

This is information type homily – for the mind – more than heart.

It is dry – like getting driving directions from someone about the best way to get from Annapolis to Wilmington, Delaware or Richmond, Virginia.

TODAY’S READINGS GIVE 2 CANTICLES

Today’s 1^st  reading from 1^st Samuel 1: 24-28 introduces us to Hanna the mother of Samuel. Then the Responsorial Psalm from 1 Samuel 2 gives us the Canticle of Hannah. Then today’s gospel Luke 1: 46-56 - gives us the Canticle of Mary – the Magnificat.

Hannah’s Canticle – in First Book of Samuel – seems to have been on the table when 3 New Testament  canticles were composed: the Magnificat, the Benedictus, and the Nunc  Dimittis.

A CANTICLE

A canticle is like a psalm. They are songs that were probably sung at religious services.

When you see them in the Bible they are lined up like a song or a poem – not straight prose.  So that’s what they are – to be sung.

There are roughly 12 canticles in the Jewish Bible – what we call the Old Testament. They are relatively short  - like a song.  And they have been often set to music – like the psalms – which are songs.

Then there is the Canticle of Canticles – the great love poem and song we find in the Wisdom books of the Old Testament. It’s attributed or credited to Solomon - the Son of David – but like the Psalms – they were probably all put together by temple singers and song writers.

The New Testament canticles have a similar history of being part of worship singing – worship songs.

Monks, religious sing the Benedictus, the Magnificat, the Nunc Dimiittis, and psalms each day.

The best known canticle that is non biblical is the Te Deum.

CONCLUSION

That’s a tiny thumb nail sketch of the Canticles.

Read them, listen to them in Song, digest their contents  and you’ll find some rich evidence about God, Mary,  and the Saints. Amen.

WITHOUT RAIN 

WITHOUT LIFE 

Poem for Today - December 22, 2014

RAIN

I love all films that start with rain:
rain, braiding a windowpane
or darkening a hung-out dress
or streaming down her upturned face;
one long thundering downpour
right through the empty script and score
before the act, before the blame,
before the lens pulls through the frame
to where the woman sits alone
beside a silent telephone
or the dress lies ruined on the grass
or the girl walks off the overpass,
and all things flow out from that source
along their fatal watercourse.
However bad or overlong
such a film can do no wrong,
so when his native twang shows through
or when the boom dips into view
or when her speech starts to betray
its adaptation from the play,
I think to when we opened cold
on a rain-dark gutter, running gold
with the neon of a drugstore sign,
and I’d read into its blazing line:
forget the ink, the milk, the blood—
all was washed clean with the flood
we rose up from the falling waters
the fallen rain’s own sons and daughters
and none of this, none of this matters.

© Don Paterson (1963- )

HAIL  MARY, FULL OF GRACE

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Hail Mary, Full of Grace.”

Today’s gospel gives us the beginning as well as a key piece of the famous prayer, “The Hail Mary.”

The translation from the Greek – Luke 1:28 – in today’s gospel goes like this:

“Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.”
But she [Mary]  was greatly troubled at what was said
and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.
Then the angel said to her,
“Do not be afraid, Mary,
for you have found favor with God.”

A 15 YEAR OLD GIRL

This part of today’s gospel is translated from the Greek as – “Hello, Highly favored one.” Or, “Hi O Blessed one.” Or, “Hail, full of grace.”

The Greek is, “Kekaritomene.”

God picks this young girl – probably around age 15 – to bring Jesus into the world – as a baby.

It’s an amazing story. It’s the Christmas story. It’s our story.

This Christmas – when you see the stable – the crib – the Christmas scene – whether it’s on a Christmas card – here in church – outside church – under your Christmas tree – wherever …. Whenever you see that scene: stop, pause, see, take a look at the baby, then take a look at Joseph, take a look at Mary, take a look at the shepherds, the kings, the animals, the stable – the manger, the crib  – where food is put for animals in a barn or stable or a cave.  Stop. Look. See. Be amazed.

The crib which the baby Jesus is placed in at his birth is as humble – as simple as those silver metal bowls outside some stores – with water for dogs. 

God, the Son of God, Jesus, the Savior, the Redeemer, when born is placed in a crib for food for animals.

Stop – get in touch with the Christmas crib.

Hear the angel Gabriel say, “Hail Mary, full of Grace.”

Hail, O Highly favored one.

Hear the angel Gabriel tell Mary God’s plan.

2000 years ago – for some reason  - God only knows – God chooses this 15 year old girl to be the mother of Jesus – the Son of God.

Mary asks questions.

“HelloOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“I’m nor married. How can this happen? How is the possible? You have to be kidding. You are aren’t you?”

The voice, the messenger, is serious.

And Mary says, “Yes!”

Someone said the greatest prayer to say to God is, “Thy will be done.”

It can sometimes be the hardest prayer to say – to pray.

In this short homily I asking you to see the Christmas stable, crib, or manger and hear the simple story of this 15 year old girl.

GREEN LIGHT - RED LIGHT

Picture a 15 year old girl in the back seat of her family car – or on a bus – and the bus or car comes to a red light  - just outside a catholic crib.

The car stops. The girl looks out the window and sees the Christmas scene in the cold night air.

She wonders what it would be like if God had chosen her.

“Hail, Mary, Hail, Cheyenne,  Hail, Deborah. Hail Penny, Hail Christine, full of grace….The Lord is with you.”

And this young 15 year old girl gets it. 

She thinks, “God wants me in the year 2015 – to be like Mary and bring Christ to our world.”

She realizes how strange that seems.

She says, “I’m not immaculate.”

She realizes, “I’m only 15.”

And yet she gets the grace to say, “Thy will be done.”

She realizes  that others might make fun of her. She realizes how difficult this will be.

She remembers how in English class this past week – when they were studying Hemingway, the teacher said that  Hemingway gave as a definition for “guts” – “Grace under pressure.”

The red light changed to green.

Yet she stayed with that thought and for the rest of her she tried to bring the gift of Christ – like Mary did – to all the people of her life.

It was difficult but she had the grace to try to do it.

And in that car – that December night – December 21^st – the winter solstice, the longest night of the year, this girl realized the Christmas message – that all of us are called to be like Mary – to bring Christ to the world.

We’re called to evolve – beyond being an animal – a cat that scratches, a dog that bites, a cow that moos, an ox that gores and pushes – we’re called to be human – and to be like Christ – and like Mary who brought Christ to our world – and to have the guts to do just that – in the pressure of daily living.

“Then she said in the back seat of that car on  a cold December night, “They will be done.”

CONCLUSION

And her dad who was driving, looks in the rear view mirror, sees her daughters face in the back seat of the car. Her face is glowing. Her dad asks, “What are you thinking about?”

“Oh, just Christmas, dad. Just Christmas.”

And her dad said, “About presents?”

“Yes, dad, yes, but not the regular ones, dad.”

“It’s Christ – the gift of Christ.”

And her dad, almost crashed the car – at that.

And sitting there in the front seat of the car – with his wife asleep on the other side of him and her brother playing with an electronic game – her dad thinking about what his daughter just said, tears came to his eyes. And he want back to Mass that Christmas – and for the rest of his life.

His daughter without knowing it started her life’s job that night in that car: being like Mary – bringing Christ to our world.

DECEMBER NIGHT

Poem for Today - December 21, 2014

ORION

It’s a cold December night,
But for a change, the stars are out,
Sparkling as if recently polished because company is coming.
Orion reclines on the horizon
As if he really were a god tired of the rut.

The wind bullies the trees.
I like to think it’s caused by the confusion of angels,
Their wings beating at the speed of hummingbirds,
Flitting from those who pray for their own needs
Towards those who pray for others, then back again,
Never getting anything done.

But I know there are neither pagan gods
Nor confused messengers of light.
At the soul of this most beautiful universe
There is only the elemental elegance of vibrating strings.
And I know it’s true, because, on nights like this,
I can feel the sympathetic reverberations in my heart.

Yes, I know a wise man would go back inside his house
To the warmth of his family and friends
And explain these oscillations in terms they might understand,
Like the vibrations of the guitar strings he plays
As they sing Christmas carols;

And failing that,
Point to the tinsel which hangs from the Christmas tree
With the angel impaled on top,
And how the strands tremble as the model train encircles it.
To which someone says that it sounds like “Cat’s Cradle,”
And everyone laughs and drinks and feels better.

But this is not a wise man shivering out here,
Watching Orion get to his feet.

© Ron Yazinski

SOLSTICE

Poem for Today - December 20, 2014

THE SOLSTICE AND ME

I live a city life.
My day is measured by
Commercial and electronic rulers: the news on NPR, not nature.
Solstice or not, my life is
Friends and relatives.
In winter, there are special meals with close friends to acknowledge the holiday season,
We can’t ignore lights strung on trees and decorated store windows,
But darkness or light does not make the meal.
In December, I lunch with a relative here to see Xmas and welcome the New Year.
Now, after the first, I am sitting on my couch with another out-of-towner who seeks work to spend ten months having a NY City experience.
The only difference between now and June is the weather. Up at 8:00. To bed at –
More light or less. It’s the people I’m with or not who determine my day, not the weather.

© Ellen Kaplan

WINTER IS ICUMIN  IN

Poem for Today - Friday - December 19, 2014

WINTER TREES

All the complicated details

of the attiring and

the disattiring are completed!

A liquid moon

moves gently among

the long branches.

Thus having prepared their buds

against a sure winter

the wise trees

stand sleeping in the cold.

© William Carlos Williams

BIRDS IN WINTER

Poem for Today - December 18, 2014

  

WHITE-EYES

In winter

    all the singing is in

         the tops of the trees

             where the wind-bird

with its white eyes

    shoves and pushes

         among the branches.

             Like any of us

he wants to go to sleep,

    but he's restless—

         he has an idea,

             and slowly it unfolds

  from under his beating wings

    as long as he stays awake.

         But his big, round music, after all,

             is too breathy to last.

So, it's over.

    In the pine-crown

         he makes his nest,

             he's done all he can.

I don't know the name of this bird,

    I only imagine his glittering beak

         tucked in a white wing

             while the clouds—

 which he has summoned

    from the north—

         which he has taught

             to be mild, and silent—

thicken, and begin to fall

    into the world below

         like stars, or the feathers©

               of some unimaginable bird

that loves us,

    that is asleep now, and silent—

         that has turned itself

             into snow.

©  Mary Oliver