When Adam’s Sons Lay Drowning

After all the people had been baptized 
and Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, 
heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended upon him
in bodily form like a dove. 
And a voice came from heaven, 
“You are my beloved Son;
with you I am well pleased.”
—Luke 3:21-22

When Adam's sons lay drowning,
the rushing flood their grave,
came God's son deeper sounding
beneath the rising wave
to sink below Eve's daughters
all lost in storm and strife
and lift us from the waters,
to bring us back to life.

For we are dust and ashes
and cannot breast the tide.
So deep is his compassion
Christ jumps in at our side,
and plunging into Jordan
with nothing to repent,
accepts what lies before him
and plunges into death.

Come up, O sons of Adam,
come up out of your graves:
He reaches out his hand now
to bear you on the waves.
Come up, all you Eve's daughters;
stand with him on the foam,
for he has walked these waters
and he will bring you home.

Eastern Orthodox icon By Unknown author – http://www.svetigora.com/node/906, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3752815

Another Way

And behold, the star that they had seen at its rising preceded them, 
until it came and stopped over the place where the child was.
They were overjoyed at seeing the star, 
and on entering the house
they saw the child with Mary his mother.
They prostrated themselves and did him homage.
Then they opened their treasures 
and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, 
they departed for their country by another way.
—Matthew 2:1-12

The star had heralded the dawn
but vanished in the day.
The road that led you there was gone—
you took another way.

The sigil had not ceased to burn;
the star shone out the same,
but you were no more what you were
who'd seen a brighter flame.

Up to that hour you'd known the night,
a sky where all was dim,
and now you stagger in the light—
all you had known dislimns.

The world of starlight breaks apart,
the pieces rearrange.
So, too, the fragments of your heart
beneath the infant's gaze.

You travelled far to look on him;
now he has looked at you:
You breath comes short; your vision swims;
your world is all made new.

And where there were no roads before,
new ways have opened wide.
The world itself an open door
spills out a glorious light.

Adoración de los Reyes Magos by El Greco, 1568 (Museo Soumaya, Mexico City) – Museo Soumaya Plaza Carso, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=35846297

Bright Star

Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem!  Your light has come,
the glory of the Lord shines upon you.
See, darkness covers the earth,
and thick clouds cover the peoples;
but upon you the LORD shines,
and over you appears his glory.
Nations shall walk by your light,
and kings by your shining radiance.
Raise your eyes and look about;
they all gather and come to you:
your sons come from afar,
and your daughters in the arms of their nurses.
—Isaiah 60:1-6

When wise men turn from learning
the strictures of the page
to seek a bright star burning,
an infant as their sage,
the wisdom of the ages
our wisdom crosswise turns:
a key unlocking cages,
the light for which we yearn.

Our ordering and knowing
have all been rearranged
by that one bright star glowing,
and we shall all be changed.
We shall no more flee danger,
but kings shall leave their thrones
to bow before a manger
when Christ is king alone.

Though now the way is hidden
and hope is pale and wan,
yet that bright star is given—
To us is born a son.
His brighter morn is coming
that never shall grow dim,
the sun of justice dawning:
Come, let us follow him!

Incised third century A.D. sarcophagus slab depicts the Adoration of the Magi, from the Catacombs of Rome – translated as, “Severa, may you live in God”, Severa being the woman buried in the sarcophagus and likely the figure to the left of the inscription. Photo By Giovanni Dall’Orto – Own work, Attribution, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3926530

Prayer to Mary

In the beginning, God did shape
the sun, the moon, the stars,
and in the end he'll recreate
this weary world of ours,
but now the one who made all things
stares wide-eyed as he he hears you sing.

O Mary, here you hold the word
that makes creation new,
and holding him you hold the world—
Let us draw near to you
to shelter with him in your cloak,
for he is all our life and hope.

The son of heaven has come down
to bear with us the hurt:
The one who sleeps in your arms now
has joined us in the dirt,
then in the strength of your embrace
enfold us, too, into his grace.

And here beneath the stars he made,
teach us the song you sing
that waits for his eternal day
and trusts him in all things.
And pray for us, that we might be
his own in bright eternity.

Mary nursing the Infant Jesus. Early image from the Catacomb of Priscilla, Rome, c. 2nd century By Unknown author – adapted from the quoted page., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=507221

May God Bless You and Keep You

The LORD said to Moses:  
“Speak to Aaron and his sons and tell them:  
This is how you shall bless the Israelites.
Say to them:  
The LORD bless you and keep you!  
The LORD let his face shine upon      
you, and be gracious to you!  
The LORD look upon you kindly and      
give you peace!
So shall they invoke my name upon the Israelites,  
and I will bless them.”
—Numbers 6:22-27

As each new moment meets you,
whatever it imparts,
may God bless you and keep you
in the shelter of his heart.

As memory drifts through you,
the harvest of the days,
may God be gracious to you,
and may you see his face.

As years fall back behind you 
and roads run on beneath,
may God look on you kindly
and may he give you peace.

And as the new year rises,
a morning all unknown,
may God forever guide you 
and bring you safely home.

Down of the great alpine road, Victoria, Australia, By fir0002flagstaffotos [at] gmail.comCanon 20D + Tamron 28-75mm f/2.8 – Own work, GFDL 1.2, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=511931

Prayer to St. Joseph

How often did you wake and weep,
admitting you were not enough
to hedge the days and guard the sleep
of those, above all else, you loved?

And if you slept, to drown in dreams
disastrous as the ancient flood,
that echoed with imagined screams
while you stuck helpless in the mud?

But there were angels in the night—
like sentinels the watch they kept
and filled the broken hours with light,
until at last you sank and slept

or rose in haste—and did they show
a flame by night, a cloud by day
to lead you by the quickest road
to Egypt, where his safety lay?

Then, Joseph, when I wake at night
and sleep and peace are both far off,
keep watch with me to see the light
while I, like you, am not enough.

O father of the living lord,
I am not strong; I am not brave.
Keep those I love from fire and sword;
lend me the help your angels gave. Amen.

Joseph’s Dream, Rembrandt, c. 1645 By Workshop of Rembrandt – Web Gallery of Art:   Image  Info about artwork, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9476806

We Count the Generations

Brothers and sisters:
Put on, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved,
heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience,
bearing with one another and forgiving one another, 
if one has a grievance against another; 
as the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do.
And over all these put on love, 
that is, the bond of perfection.
And let the peace of Christ control your hearts, 
the peace into which you were also called in one body.
—Colossians 3:12-17

We count the generations
and trace the family line 
from Abraham to David—
but oh, what shame we find.

Yet this our God has chosen,
our littleness and sin:
His mercy new each morning
makes God himself our kin.

The glorious son of heaven
on earth has come to live
that we may be his kindred—
our broken bread is his.

Then may I cast off hatred
as he cast off his crown
and bend to serve my neighbor
as he himself knelt down,

and put on over all things
the perfect bond of love,
For God so loved our smallness
he knit himself thereof.

As Jesus Christ our brother
put on our very dust,
so may we love each other
and rise to where he was.

A typical Jesse Tree of the Late Medieval period, detail of the Spinola Hours of Ludwig by the Master of James IV of Scotland, (1510-20) Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=29732235

The Army of Heaven

The shepherds keep watch on the hillside,
and shout as the night sky is torn:
An army comes out of the midnight,
but see! They are bending their swords.
For this is the host of God's angels,
who perfectly follow his word.
Their general now lies in a manger,
and all of the earth shall be turned.

The sword that barred Adam from Eden
shall harrow the thorn-woven ground,
preparing the earth to receive him
who sleeps in Eve's daughter's arms now.
For this is the weapon of doomsday,
more power than any can tell:
That God should let death e'er consume him
will shatter the strongholds of hell.

The shepherds sink down in amazement
and cover their eyes and their ears,
and still they are pierced by the angels
with song beyond all they can hear.
For this is the army of heaven
arrayed in its orders and ranks,
who knows that the word has been given,
and all of the earth shall give thanks.

So now they call all to the manger;
the trumpet sounds out the advance
to follow their lord and commander,
surrender to hammer and lance.
The shepherds rise up at the summons,
give heed to their orders and run
to worship God dwelling among us
and tell that all warfare is done.

Rembrandt Annunciation to the shepherds – http://www.facebook.com, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=50707534

Christ Our Light Is Dawning

How beautiful upon the mountains
        are the feet of him who brings glad tidings,
    announcing peace, bearing good news,
        announcing salvation, and saying to Zion,
        “Your God is King!”
Hark!  Your sentinels raise a cry,
        together they shout for joy,
    for they see directly, before their eyes,
        the LORD restoring Zion.
    Break out together in song,
        O ruins of Jerusalem!
    For the LORD comforts his people,
        he redeems Jerusalem.
    The LORD has bared his holy arm
        in the sight of all the nations;
    all the ends of the earth will behold
        the salvation of our God.
—Isaiah 52:7-10

How beautiful the footsteps
and steady-beating heart 
that bring to us a good word
and say, “Here is your God!”

Now see what he is doing,
that never yet was seen.
Break into song, you ruined,
for you have been redeemed!

Our sentinels have told it—
O, hearken to their cry!—
and we, too, shall behold it,
the dawn that greets our eyes.

The empty places in us
where shadows made their home,
shine out as morning fills us,
for lo! Our light has come!

For all the days we hungered,
new feasts will fill our lack.
All that was taken from us
will someday be led back.

Stand up and greet the morning,
the promise coming true.
For Christ our light is dawning
and mercy is made new!
Aci Castello Sicily Italy – Creative Commons by gnuckx By gnuckx, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=53170013

The Song of Elizabeth

When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting,
the infant leaped in her womb, 
and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, 
cried out in a loud voice and said, 
“Blessed are you among women, 
and blessed is the fruit of your womb.
And how does this happen to me, 
that the mother of my Lord should come to me?
For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, 
the infant in my womb leaped for joy.
Blessed are you who believed
that what was spoken to you by the Lord
would be fulfilled.”
–-Luke 1:39-45

Behold, my love comes o'er the hills
as softly as the deer steps forth,
as sweetly as the trickling rills
come bless the winter-laden earth.

As yet he hides behind the wall,
but love is coming to the door
to bring me to his banquet hall—
So comes the mother of my Lord.

And now I hear the true dove's voice
that says the winter days are past,
and this within me leaps for joy 
to recognize its spring at last.

Who am I, that this love should come
when God has done such things for me?
And she who said,“Let it be done,”
oh, blest is she who has believed!

And now he grows within her womb.
The barren fig tree puts forth buds;
the desert wakes and greens and blooms
when he tells me, “Arise, my love!”

These leaves survive from what must have been an extraordinarily rich book of hours. Stylistically, the illuminations relate to the workshop of Henri d’Orquevaulx, a documented Metz manuscript painter. Little is known about d’Orquevaulx’s life or career. Compositionally, structurally, and stylistically, the miniatures suggest strong links to Netherlandish illumination. By Henri d’Orquevaulx – https://clevelandart.org/art/2003.172, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=77719154