I have never known a December without Handel’s Messiah. We are partial to the Robert Shaw recording of the Atlanta Symphony and Chamber Chorus in our household; it bursts forth as I type. Though it was written for a chamber setting, I first sang the Christmas portion in a mass choir when I was sixteen years old in the most un-cathedral-like setting of the University of Georgia’s Coliseum. The power and emotion of so many voices was not diminished by the arena built for basketball and rodeo. The upper register required for the tenor part is only a memory for me now. Then as now, I particularly love the choruses for they carry such explosions of joy. Can any of us imagine the heavenly chorus that appeared to the shepherds in the Gospel of Luke singing anything other than Handel’s “Glory to God.” Some might complain that it is overplayed, that it is a cultural cliche, and that it should be shelved so that we might appreciate it more fully. Perhaps, but I am still deeply moved by the opening “Comfort Ye” and still hear my mother’s voice joining in on “For Unto Us.” This year, “Every Valley,” Isaiah’s gloriously imagined infrastructure project, speaks an odd truth to the endless highway construction at every turn in our area.
This has definitely been a time of reflection for me much, of which, has centered around defining a good life. I have partially settled on having the luxury of solitude. Not loneliness but the ability to choose to be quiet and peaceful with no distractions.
Right now, living well for me means allowing the ebbs and flows, waning and waxing, THE SEASONS inside. I am currently looking back and grieving the period of slowness and smallness that existed after having my two children: my home, my garden, my family, a few friends—that was the world! Now I am in a different season, and it is full of energy and excitement (and stress) forming and leading a new nonprofit to protect a wild space here in town. The quiet season before made it possible for me to do this work now. Winter into summer. Now the trick will be listening and observing well enough to know when the next season has arrived, and it’s time to slow down again. I wish it was as easy for me as it seems to be for the birds!
Thanks M for this lovely post. I look forward to watching all the seasons of your life. Wishing you and the family a wonderful New Year and season of Yule.
Lovely piece. I've recently read a few of Nikos Kazantzakis's books and he talks about the prophets and similarly notes their wildness. A friend gifted me Rohr's new book about the prophets, and again there I am hearing about the paradox of prophets. We seem to largely leave them out of our spiritual nourishment, so I am glad to read your meditations on them!
Thanks for these good words, Garrett. I continue to be deeply moved by the voices crying in the wilderness. Someday soon let's have a good conversation over coffee. Wishing you and Rachel a wonderful Christmas. Peace and love.
Living well has to include integrity. I use the word ethics. These began to form with the Christianity of my childhood but quickly moved beyond that. I think basic ethics is understanding what feels terrible to you—grief, pain, shame, fear, etc—and not wanting to cause that to others.
Thanks, Janisse. I agree that understanding our shared brokenness and having empathy for others in their pain is transformative and key to living well. Wish you and the family a wonderful Solstice/Yule/Christmas.
This has definitely been a time of reflection for me much, of which, has centered around defining a good life. I have partially settled on having the luxury of solitude. Not loneliness but the ability to choose to be quiet and peaceful with no distractions.
Thanks for these words, Cass. Yes, the luxury of solitude! Wishing you and Ben a wonderful Christmas.
See you Saturday!
Right now, living well for me means allowing the ebbs and flows, waning and waxing, THE SEASONS inside. I am currently looking back and grieving the period of slowness and smallness that existed after having my two children: my home, my garden, my family, a few friends—that was the world! Now I am in a different season, and it is full of energy and excitement (and stress) forming and leading a new nonprofit to protect a wild space here in town. The quiet season before made it possible for me to do this work now. Winter into summer. Now the trick will be listening and observing well enough to know when the next season has arrived, and it’s time to slow down again. I wish it was as easy for me as it seems to be for the birds!
Thanks M for this lovely post. I look forward to watching all the seasons of your life. Wishing you and the family a wonderful New Year and season of Yule.
Lovely piece. I've recently read a few of Nikos Kazantzakis's books and he talks about the prophets and similarly notes their wildness. A friend gifted me Rohr's new book about the prophets, and again there I am hearing about the paradox of prophets. We seem to largely leave them out of our spiritual nourishment, so I am glad to read your meditations on them!
Thanks for these good words, Garrett. I continue to be deeply moved by the voices crying in the wilderness. Someday soon let's have a good conversation over coffee. Wishing you and Rachel a wonderful Christmas. Peace and love.
Living well has to include integrity. I use the word ethics. These began to form with the Christianity of my childhood but quickly moved beyond that. I think basic ethics is understanding what feels terrible to you—grief, pain, shame, fear, etc—and not wanting to cause that to others.
Thanks, Janisse. I agree that understanding our shared brokenness and having empathy for others in their pain is transformative and key to living well. Wish you and the family a wonderful Solstice/Yule/Christmas.