Since my Ignatian retreat commenced, I’ve been finding much dissatisfaction with my usual reading. Novels seem very dry. Even science non-fiction not so great. It might be that I’m picking books in the poor to fair category. But I doubt it.
It’s also taken an effort to read Mediator Dei. My heart just isn’t in the document. With my luck, y’all can probably tell. Even Evangelii Gaudium isn’t thrilling me. It makes me want to get up and do something different.
One of my readers sent me Gerhard Lohfink’s 2012 release from Liturgical Press, Jesus of Nazareth, What He Wanted, Who He Was. This book has come the closest to inspiring me all Fall. It’s rich and dense and heady, like a fruitcake soaked in rum. It balances between being spiritual reading and a christology text–and that’s okay. I may write up a review of it sometime in 2014. There’s just so much to tell.
Anyway, I’m heading into the first Christmas Mass in a little bit here. Blogging may be light the next day or two. I’ve been plagued with headaches, indigestion, and fatigue this last week of Advent. Even my daughter has been pumping me to take ibuprofen or such. I usually resist. I don’t like pills. But once or twice, I just went with it.
Christmas never felt the time to indulge mundane things. Maybe I’ll read a bit of my book after tomorrow morning’s Mass. My sense of the Holy Spirit is to just go with Jesus.
I’ve fallen a bit behind with my retreat–about two weeks. I got to church today early, intending to pray, only to remember that I had promised the choir a pack of bottled water. I went back and forth as I printed off the prayers whether I would troll around the student areas in the kitchen looking for leftover water. But the store wasn’t far, so I decided to just go with a quick trip there, pick up a few things for the family, and then get the water. I was glad to get that message, “just go …” as it turned out.
There are a lot of things pushing people to and fro these days. I’ll confess I dislike getting pushed. Prodded. Bothered. But this Christmas, I think I’m just going to go with it.
I hope you readers have a blessed and happy Christmas. I don’t have an inspiring greeting or quote, and certainly not any sublime insights to pass on. If you’re traveling, stay safe. If you’re singing, say lubricated with water and save the alcohol for later. Remember to smile–that’s the one I have to tell myself a lot.
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Tidings of comfort and joy winging to Ioway, brother!
There’s way too much “incoming” that we allow to become a bother. Midnight Mass was musically tight despite some missing members, but the Mass and congregation was ho-hum. Funny moment, celebrant had to literally ask the overflow folks in the organ gallery to stand for the preface and by the measure of time it seemed perhaps they weren’t to keen on getting off their keisters.
Tender mercy moment- Communion was long enough to bear “Once in Royal David’s City,” “Infant Holy” and the normative “Silent Night.” Deacon returned to his chair by verse three but we re-sang verse 1, but a capella. After Mass a faithful parishioner came up to me and said that was THE moment of grace for her, when we quietly prayed in song just the human voice. Someone’s always paying attention besides God. Merry Christmas, Todd.
Todd, I hope that you and your family had a lovely Christmas eve and day. May this season be blessed for you all, and may you be free from your physical discomforts. I have been sick in one way or another for nearly two months, so that is what I have had to “go with.” It has been an oddly rich and peaceful surrender. Here is to good health for all!
We don’t get to converse much her or at PTB, but I’m sure I recognize a sweet soul in very post you make. “May God bless you and send you a hapy new year.”
Charles, how kind! Blessings of this season of Christ’s birth to you and yours!
My tablet keyboard has early onset vowelectomy, “e’s” are MIA.
The missing “p” in happy is a prostate issue.
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