Tomorrow I Will Come

The O Antiphons that are sung during Advent always seemed boring to me.  That was until this morning.  For some reason, I listened and watched a You Tube video of an explanation of the O Antiphons and understood it.  It sunk in!!!!  Thank you, Ave Maria press.

Maybe because the video hit two senses: audio and visual?  Maybe I got enough sleep last night?  Maybe my understanding has matured enough?  Maybe I'm sitting still?

Whatever.  I enjoyed the explanation Father Kubicki gives.  Father explains that these antiphons have been chanted since at least the early middle ages.  Each antiphon begins with "O".  They, unlike Christmas Carols are Advent hymns.  They should be sung from December 17 through December 23.  Each one begins with a title for Jesus:

• December 17: O Sapientia (O Wisdom)
• December 18: O Adonai (O Lord)
• December 19: O Radix Jesse (O Root of Jesse)
• December 20: O Clavis David (O Key of David)
• December 21: O Oriens (O Dayspring)
• December 22: O Rex Gentium (O King of the nations)
• December 23: O Emmanuel (O With Us is God)

Not only are the titles of importance, so aren't the first letter of each title, read backwards.  Each letter makes up an acrostic puzzle.  Read the first letter from the bottom: 

Emmanuel

Rex

Oriens

Clavis

Radix

Adonai

Sapientia

These letters spell out the Latin words Eros Cras, meaning, Tomorrow, I will come.  Jesus did come, and tomorrow He will come again.

Hiking in the Rain

The Hiker's Group went to Birchwold Farm in Sheldonville, MA, this morning.  It was damp, cold, with a gentle, yet constant drizzle, all morning.  We had a great time!  We hardly noticed the rain.  We just enjoy each other's company.

As we were walking through the woods, we heard this terrible sound.  It was an animal sound.  We speculated that it could be a deer.  What sound does a deer make?  We walked toward the sound.  I took a picture of the animal.  Most thought it was an ox.  I think it looks like a cow.  But cows moo.  The ghastly bellow this creature was emitting was not a "moo."  What does it look like to you?

Comments on the "Back of the Church"

A few days ago, I posted about my observations from the back of the church.  I was telling my friends about my observations and they disagreed with my assumptions.  In fact, they rejected my analysis, altogether!

BTW, my friends sit in the front of the church.

They pointed out, rightly so (if I do say so myself), that I have no idea what is going on in the minds of those who sit in the back.  Are they praying?  Are they making a spiritual communion?  Is their countenance devout or just serious?  Perhaps their expression is just dutiful because they're making themselves come to church (maybe out of obligation?).

I will see this weekend.  This is my last weekend selling ornaments.  Once again, I'm committed to all the Masses, except for the last 5:00 PM.  I'll take notes--maybe sneak in a few pictures.  Then you'll be able to see for yourself; are the back people more devout, than the front?

Taking A Chance

Today I heard about a pastor who told his congregation that he was going to have a second collection every Sunday, to help pay the church's maintenance costs.  And he welcomed lottery tickets (new/unscratched).  So when you buy a lottery ticket, buy one for yourself and one for your parish.  I don't know what to think of this idea.  What do you think?  

Places to Pray

It is obvious that some places are better than others, to pray.  I contend that sitting by yourself and looking out over the ocean is my ultimate best, e.i. the end of Seacoast Boulevard.

Church would be my second choice, especially Adoration.  How could you not pray, kneeling in front of the True Presence of God?

Sometimes lying in bed is conducive to prayer. I like to reach over to sleeping husband and pray over him.  (If he only knew!)

I often pray in the car, while driving, or waiting for people.  In fact, I call my car, "the prayer mobile." 

I have a "Little Oratory" in a corner of the dining room.  I like to sit at the long table and read and pray--Lectio Divina.

I also have a traveling oratory that a Temporary Promised Lay Dominican made. I may post separately about that, but for now, it's a portable shrine that can be put in my purse.  I take it out, now and then to say "hello" to Jesus.

Lastly, and embarrassingly, I pray in the bathroom.  I was driven to that extreme when I had Cronkhite Canada syndrome.  But I stopped it because a Jewish friend said it was rather blasphemous to pray in that atmosphere.  However, I took it up again after reflecting upon the conditions Bernadette Soubirous lived in--and she's a saint!  Bernadette's windows were prison cell barred windows, looking out upon the village's dunghill.  And the Blessed Mother appeared in a grotto where the village pigs foraged!

Actually, I could go on and on.  Anywhere and everywhere, that works for you.  

Observations from the Back of the Church

This weekend I helped sell items for Christmas.  I attended all the Masses--All.  I wasn't there the whole time, I waited until what I thought was Communion and went inside the church.  I stayed in the back until the recession and then I ran out to do my job.

There are two classes of people in church.  There's the "up front" people.  They occupy the seats closest to the altar.  They tend to be ministers in various functions, e.i., readers, bring up the Offertory, etc.  They are the last to leave the church.  They are the most sociable and spend an inordinate amount of time talking after Mass.   They also make the best customers.  They spend and buy and it's not unusual for them to just give money as a donation and not want anything.

Then there're the people who sit in the back.  They often come in late and leave early.  But you know what, and this is my personal observation, they are the more devotional.  Every Mass, every single Mass, had a couple of people who stood in the back (by choice, they were plenty of seats), and kneel on the concrete floor during the consecration and again, to pray, "Oh Lord, I am not worthy."  Note this, then they leave--no Communion.  They just receive Spiritual Communion.  They're not too friendly, either.  They don't look happy.  They won't look you in the eye.  They come in to pray and worship the best they can and don't stick around to socialize, drink coffee, etc.  The others in the back, who have seats seem to be quiet ones.  They pray and mind their own business.  They were not my best customers.

Those that left early just rushed by.  Of course, they didn't buy anything they were in a hurry to get somewhere.

Where do I sit?  I usually sit as close to the heat as possible. 

The Servant Girl and the Holy Family

The Bethlehem Inn was very busy.  Caesar Augustus decreed that the whole world should be counted and everyone from the line of David was coming to Bethlehem to register.  It was a crazy time.  But I looked at it in a positive way.  I had a job.  I was in demand as a servant.  I served all the people in the Inn.  And since the tips were plentiful, we lived well for quite a while.

Some people and incidents stand out in my memory.  There are memorably good and bad stories.  Upstairs, I didn’t get to know as well.  Those with more money had rooms upstairs.  Everybody else slept on the floor, downstairs. It was so crowded that no one really had room to stretch out on the floor.  They were sleeping sitting up.

With a gust of wind, the door opened and slammed, and in walked a man and a woman.  They looked very weary.  My heart felt sorry for them because they were covered with travel dust and looked beaten down.  The woman was really young and on the verge of tears.  The Innkeeper was talking to the man and I knew that he was explaining that we had no vacancy, not even for sitting on the floor.  He was even suggesting other inns.

It was when the women grabbed her stomach that I noticed that she was pregnant—very pregnant.  In fact, I instinctively knew that she was in labor.

I prayed to G-d to help her.  How could I help?  There really were no vacancies in any inns.  What could I have done?

Suddenly, I remembered the inn’s stable.  Of course, that would be better than any inn because they’d have privacy.  No one would be gawking at a lady giving birth on the floor.  I joined the man and the innkeeper’s discussion and suggested the stable.  Of course, the innkeeper thought this a good idea because he could make some money, plus help the pregnant woman.  The couple immediately agreed.

I showed them the stable and shooed some of the animals out of the way, and put others in stalls.  It wasn’t too bad.  It was warm and we could clean it up.  I even retrieved one of the animals’ mangers and made a baby’s crib out of one, cleaning it sweet smelling hay.

I went back and forth doing my job at the inn and running back to the stable whenever I could.  I swept it up and shoveled out the muck.  I brought some clean cloths and fresh water.  The animals were acting odd.  They stayed a respectful distance away but were very curious.  Even the innkeeper himself came out to help.

Eventually, everyone in the inn knew a baby was going to be born in our stable.  Everyone was happy and kind.  I ran in and out to help and report the progress.  Finally, one of the times that I went out to check on them, I saw that the lady had delivered the baby.  It was a healthy baby boy. 

Everyone seemed to celebrate this babe’s birth.  I swear the animals were smiling.  Crickets jumped up and down.  The sheep baa-aed happily.  The cow moved out to peak.  Little birds darted to and fro, from nests in the eaves.  The donkey stayed near the baby.  The proud parents’ eyes were round in awe.  The mother sang a happy lullaby.  I’d swear I heard angels singing, but then everyone was cheering and shouting.

Cheers of delight exploded inside the inn and the people rushed out to see.  I’ll never forget the feeling.  I felt more emotional at this birth than the birth of my own children.  It felt like we were celebrating the long awaited birth of the messiah.

Surprisingly, even the innkeeper offered a free drink to toast the occasion.  Now there’s a miracle.