Photina

Photina
n., An issue of water from the earth; a spring; a fountain. v.intr., To rise to the surface, ready to flow; to rise or surge from an inner source. v.tr., To pour forth. adj., In a satisfactory condition; right or proper. interj., Used to introduce a remark, resume a narrative, or fill a pause during conversation; used to express surprise.dictionary.com

Saturday, December 14, 2002

St. John of the Cross! One of my favorite saints: priest, monk, prisoner, escapee, mystic, and Doctor of the Church.

The best-known of his works is the Dark Night of the Soul, in which he elaborates on a poem he wrote concerning the journey of the soul (here translated from the original Spanish by E. Allison Peers):

On a dark night,
Kindled in love with yearnings--oh, happy chance!--
I went forth without being observed,
My house being now at rest.

In darkness and secure,
By the secret ladder, disguised--oh, happy chance!--
In darkness and in concealment,
My house being now at rest.

In the happy night,
In secret, when none saw me,
Nor I beheld aught,
Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart.

This light guided me
More surely than the light of noonday
To the place where he (well I knew who!) was awaiting me--
A place where none appeared.

Oh, night that guided me,
Oh, night more lovely than the dawn,
Oh, night that joined Beloved with lover,
Lover transformed in the Beloved!

Upon my flowery breast,
Kept wholly for himself alone,
There he stayed sleeping, and I caressed him,
And the fanning of the cedars made a breeze.

The breeze blew from the turret
As I parted his locks;
With his gentle hand he wounded my neck
And caused all my senses to be suspended.

I remained, lost in oblivion;
My face I reclined on the Beloved.
All ceased and I abandoned myself,
Leaving my cares forgotten among the lilies.

posted by Heidi | 14.12.02

Friday, December 13, 2002

Today is St. Lucia Day, a feast especially celebrated in Sweden with saffron breads, white dresses with red sashes, and head-borne wreath with candles. A fourth-century saint surrounded by strange legends, St. Lucy is now connected with light, with eyes, and with virginity.

Jacobus de Voragine (1230-1298) compiled one version of Lucy's legend together with those of many other saints in his work The Golden Legend. St. Lucy's section is here in English and in the original Latin. To anyone disturbed, as I am, by stories that appear to portray being raped as a sin against chastity, Lucy has a great speech in the middle of this thirteenth-century document (hardly a time known for women's rights, which makes it all the more significant):

The body may take no corruption but if the heart and will give thereto assenting: for if thou madest me to do sacrifice by my hands, by force, to the idols, against my will, God shall take it only but as a derision, for he judgeth only of the will and consenting. And therefore, if thou make my body to be defouled without mine assent, and against my will, my chastity shall increase double to the merit of the crown of glory. What thing that thou dost to the body, which is in thy power, that beareth no prejudice to the handmaid of Jesu Christ.

St. Lucy's feast at one time falling on the solstice, John Donne composed a poem:

A Nocturnal Upon St. Lucy's Day, Being The Shortest Day

'Tis the year's midnight, and it is the day's,
Lucy's, who scarce seven hours herself unmasks;
The sun is spent, and now his flasks
Send forth light squibs, no constant rays;
The world's whole sap is sunk;
The general balm th' hydroptic earth hath drunk,
Whither, as to the bed's feet, life is shrunk,
Dead and interr'd; yet all these seem to laugh,
Compar'd with me, who am their epitaph.

Study me then, you who shall lovers be
At the next world, that is, at the next spring;
For I am every dead thing,
In whom Love wrought new alchemy.
For his art did express
A quintessence even from nothingness,
From dull privations, and lean emptiness;
He ruin'd me, and I am re-begot
Of absence, darkness, death: things which are not.

All others, from all things, draw all that's good,
Life, soul, form, spirit, whence they being have;
I, by Love's limbec, am the grave
Of all that's nothing. Oft a flood
Have we two wept, and so
Drown'd the whole world, us two; oft did we grow
To be two chaoses, when we did show
Care to aught else; and often absences
Withdrew our souls, and made us carcasses.

But I am by her death (which word wrongs her)
Of the first nothing the elixir grown;
Were I a man, that I were one
I needs must know; I should prefer,
If I were any beast,
Some ends, some means; yea plants, yea stones detest,
And love; all, all some properties invest;
If I an ordinary nothing were,
As shadow, a light and body must be here.

But I am none; nor will my sun renew.
You lovers, for whose sake the lesser sun
At this time to the Goat is run
To fetch new lust, and give it you,
Enjoy your summer all;
Since she enjoys her long night's festival,
Let me prepare towards her, and let me call
This hour her vigil, and her eve, since this
Both the year's, and the day's deep midnight is.

posted by Heidi | 13.12.02

Thursday, December 12, 2002

Today is the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Patroness of the Americas, a feast that is difficult even for many Catholics to embrace, given that it not only is a Marian feast but refers to an apparition. The feast celebrates the December 9, 1531 appearance of the Virgin Mary to St. Juan Diego Cuauhtlatoatzin, canonized on July 31 of this year, and the subsequent conversion of millions of Aztecs to Christianity over the next couple decades.

Unlike most apparitions, physical evidence remains for this one in the form of a tilma imprinted with the image of the Virgin Mary. The tilma has been studied several times over the centuries, and many different observations have been made concerning the artistic integrity of the image, the stars and other symbols contained in the image, the fiber composition of the tilma and lack of identifiable pigmentation, and apparent reflections seen in enlarged photographs of her eyes.

The tilma is on display at the Basilica de Santa Maria de Guadalupe in Mexico City, Mexico.

posted by Heidi | 12.12.02

Wednesday, December 11, 2002

"Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light."
-Matthew 11:28-30

How? Because

Those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
-Isaiah 40:31

To die to yourself and live for Christ, to stop hoping in yourself and start hoping in God, to stop trusting in yourself and start trusting in God, to lay down yourself and pick up the yoke of Jesus, yes, the cross, is the greatest sacrifice and the greatest gift of Christianity. Light and easy because it is not I who carries it, but Christ and His life through grace within me. The more I depend on myself, the heavier my burdens; the more I trust to God, the higher I can soar. But by the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace to me was not without effect. No, I worked harder than all of them--yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me. (I Corinthians 15:10-11). His grace--His amazing grace! How sweet the sound . . .

Of course you can't become the person you feel you ought to be--stop torturing yourself about it and throw yourself headlong into the abundant grace of God! Anything else is pride . . .

posted by Heidi | 11.12.02

Today is the feast day of St. Damasus I, pope from 366-384. Under his direction, St. Jerome took up the task of putting together a reliable Latin translation of the books of the Bible, ultimately the Vulgate edition. That this responsibility was intimidating can be seen from this excerpt from a letter of St. Jerome to Pope Damasus:

To the blessed Pope Damasus, from Jerome,

You urge me to make a new work from the old, and that I might sit as a kind of judge over the versions of Scripture dispersed throughout the whole world, and that I might resolve which among such vary, and which of these they may be which truly agree with the Greek. Pious work, yet perilous presumption, to change the old and aging language of the world, to carry it back to infancy, for to judge others is to invite judging by all of them. Is there indeed any learned or unlearned man, who when he picks up the volume in his hand, and takes a single taste of it, and sees what he will have read to differ, might not instantly raise his voice, calling me a forger, proclaiming me now to be a sacrilegious man, that I might dare to add, to change, or to correct anything in the old books? Against such infamy I am consoled by two causes: that it is you, who are the highest priest, who so orders, and truth is not to be what might vary, as even now I am vindicated by the witness of slanderers. If indeed faith is administered by the Latin version, they might respond by which, for they are nearly as many as the books! If, however, truth is to be a seeking among many, why do we not now return to the Greek originals to correct those mistakes which either through faulty translators were set forth, or through confident but unskilled were wrongly revised, or through sleeping scribes either were added or were changed?

. . . Therefore, this present little preface promises only the four Gospels, the order of which is Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, revised in comparison with only old Greek books. They do not disagree with many familiar Latin readings, as we have kept our pen in control, but only those in which the sense will have been seen to have changed (from the Greek) are corrected; the rest remain as they have been.

posted by Heidi | 11.12.02

Tuesday, December 10, 2002

I've also been thinking about Christmas trees because Advent is one of my favorite seasons. It is a change of pace, a time for meditation, preparation, reflection. I love the Advent hymns I grew up with: "Wake, Awake, For Night Is Flying," "Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus," and, of course, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel," hymns that, like the season, are marked by a solemn expectancy.

My preference is definitely for Advent to be Advent and Christmas to be Christmas (which is not to say that I'm bothered by having a Christmas tree right now--I'm not). I was thinking about this the morning that we got our Christmas tree, wondering how I would prefer to do it whenever I have my own family. Some families wait until Christmas Eve to acquire, set up, and decorate the tree, but having had the experience of doing that one year (not because we'd planned it that way), trying to pile untangling and stringing lights and hanging ornaments (let alone acquiring a tree) on top of Christmas Eve services and last-minute preparations spells chaos to me. My family had no set pattern for when we got our tree, which is another way to handle it (& it was also how we ended up waiting until Christmas Eve one year--we just hadn't gotten around to it sooner). And some families set up their trees as soon as possible after Thanksgiving is over, for maximum enjoyment of the Christmas season.

But I like Advent! Thus my dilemma: Wouldn't want to acquire and decorate a Christmas tree before Christmas because, to me, it rushes Christmas, but wouldn't want to acquire and decorate a Christmas tree on Christmas Eve because it would be too chaotic.

Some families solve this by getting a Christmas tree at the beginning of Advent and using it as a Jesse Tree throughout Advent, filling in other ornaments on Christmas Eve (Jesse Trees and Christmas trees are often entirely separate from each other, though). This appeals to me, because not only does this option bring out the significance of each season, but it hearkens back a bit to one of the origins of the Christmas tree--the tree used as the "Paradise tree" in mystery plays (not the Sherlock Holmes sense of the word "mystery") in the middle ages.

Another possibility is based on the Advent prayers I grew up with, which were in turn based on the "O Antiphons" said for centuries on the seven evenings before Christmas.

In this cycle of Advent prayers, the opening for the second week is "O Root of Jesse, who stands as a banner for the peoples, before whom kings close their mouths, to whom the nations pray, come to deliver us, wait no more." Acquire and set up the tree, but don't decorate it that week--just enjoy the smell of fresh evergreen...

The third week, the opening is "O Morning Star, Splendor of Eternal Light and Sun of Righteousness, come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death." String the lights on the tree that week (which is the biggest tree-decorating job as far as I'm concerned), but don't hang the ornaments.

The fourth week begins with "O King of the Nations and their Desired One, and Cornerstone of the House of God, come and save man whom you formed out of dust." An abbreviated Jesse Tree could be done that week, the final Christmas ornaments added on Christmas Eve.

Add a comment if you have any other suggestions!

posted by Heidi | 10.12.02

Christmas trees.

A topic at the top of my mind mostly because ours has fallen over twice in the last six-or-so hours. (May even have fallen over again in my absence, though I left it with its weight against the window, which raises the old, "If a Christmas tree falls in a living room and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?")

The first time it fell over was around 5:30 this morning, as I was swimming about in not-quite-dreams having woken up and attempted to fall asleep a bit earlier. It was apparently righted by one (or both) of my housemates when they got up this morning...only to fall over again just after 8am.

The first time it fell over, I considered my options--to get up and attempt, probably futilely because these things tend to require two people, to do something about it, thoroughly wake myself up, and probably step on broken glass, or to pray that no special ornaments were broken (& thus raise theological questions about the efficacy of after-the-fact prayers to a God who exists outside of time) and go back to sleep. I chose option two.

No special ornaments may have been broken during that fall, but the carnage after number two was rather distressing. The tree hadn't had that many ornaments on it in the first place, but the crushed corpses of the little silver-gray bird, the last of the sage-green balls, the blown-glass ornament, and the Madonna-and-child were all under the tree.

I could wax eloquent about the lesson of "where your treasure is, there your heart is also" and not holding onto earthly possessions but it would be worse than hollow because, frankly, none of the ornaments that broke were mine. Not because mine were somehow miraculously spared or because it was some sort of Old Testament judgment on the ornaments of my housemates, but simply because the few ornaments I have are still at my parents' house in boxes in the basement. So my housemates have my sympathy, and I think we'll be looking for a larger Christmas tree stand.

posted by Heidi | 10.12.02

Monday, December 09, 2002

Today Catholics celebrate the Feast of the Immaculate Conception while Orthodox (those using the Julian calendar) celebrate the Conception by St. Anna of the Most Holy Theotokos. Both feasts celebrate the conception of the Virgin Mary, not the conception of Jesus (it gets confusing, especially since the Gospel reading for Catholics is Gabriel's visit to the Mary).

The Catholic feast and the Orthodox feast are distinct from one another, but not because Catholics believe that the Virgin Mary was free of sin at conception and Orthodox do not. On the contrary, both denominations hold that she was without sin from the moment of conception. The distinction lies in the understanding of Original Sin.

The Catholic understanding of Original Sin is that:

It is a deprivation of original holiness and justice, but human nature has not been totally corrupted: it is wounded in the natural powers proper to it, subject to ignorance, suffering and the dominion of death, and inclined to sin - an inclination to evil that is called concupiscence". Baptism, by imparting the life of Christ's grace, erases original sin and turns a man back towards God, but the consequences for nature, weakened and inclined to evil, persist in man and summon him to spiritual battle.
-Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraph 405

In the Immaculate Conception, though, Mary, "in the first instance of her conception, by a singular privilege and grace granted by God, in view of the merits of Jesus Christ, the Saviour of the human race, was preserved exempt from all stain of original sin" according to Pope Pius IX.

In Orthodox understanding, on the other hand, Adam and Eve sinned in the Fall, this sin is the "original sin," and Adam and Eve alone bear the guilt of this sin. It is the consequences of this sin that are passed down to us--a fallen nature, the likeness of God with which we were created now distorted and inclined to sin, though not utterly corrupted or destroyed. Thus, in Orthodox understanding, we are all conceived free of sin but have a leaning toward sin as a result of the Fall. Baptism incorporates the baptized into the Body of Christ and bestows on them grace to begin to obey God.

The Virgin Mary, however, in Orthodox understanding, was filled with this and every grace of the Holy Spirit from the moment of her conception.

posted by Heidi | 9.12.02