Blog Archives

Born in a Manger

In solemn awe the seraphim cry “Gloria” on high,

as hosts join in rejoicing at sight:

the New Creation’s dawn is come, salvation’s morn is nigh,

and breaks upon a cold December night.

 

The light of Love, on wings of grace, stoops into time and place,

the Word speaks in a tiny infant’s cry,

and God, so inexpressible, now takes a human face,

content within the Virgin’s arms to lie.

 

The hearts of men with labor pains once wracked now moan no more,

for Christ is come to take away our sin.

Let Mary and the Spirit make a manger and a door,

that Christ in you be born anew. Amen.

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Writing a Christmas poem has become a tradition for me. I wish I had more time to put better thought and effort in, but the important thing is that it expresses what I want it to: that this Christmas can be an opportunity of great renewal, of letting Christ be born in our hearts and our lives, just as He was born in Bethlehem. He comes with redeeming love. So rejoice, even if you don’t feel happy, because we have a reason to be truly joyful all the days of our life, a reason that began with one moment, on one night, in this world. May God bless you and yours with peace, love, and joy; may you sleep peacefully in the arms of Mary, our Mother and His, and may you rise to the splendor of the dawn of Christ’s coming in the love of the Father by the power of the Holy Spirit. Merry Christmas to one and all!!

Children Crying at the Garden Gates

Ever have a craving for something without knowing what it is you were craving?

When Adam and Eve sinned, they lost the Garden of Eden. It was an earthly Paradise–no pain, no tears, no sadness at all. No, there was only happiness and an intense intimacy with the Lord. Yet they gave it up, trusting in lies that they might be more than what they were if only they would abandon their Creator. They even gave up the chance to live without the fear or even reality of death. They let sin warp their intellect and will, and pit their emotions against what they knew to be true and good.

And they passed it on to all of us.

We call it original sin, and it stains all our souls. It can be washed away by Baptism, so that we can be brought into God’s grace and have a chance at Heaven. But the effects never go away; we always have to grapple with them.

Even the craving.

Chesterton wrote that in just about every culture, there is a myth or legend of an ancient fall from grace that coincides at least partially with the truth held by Catholics regarding Adam and Eve’s Fall. They didn’t just pass on the sin and suffering. They passed on the remembrance.

We were not made for this world brethren, we were made for life with God, and we once had it. Yet now, here we are, and at our deepest, we know we don’t belong here. We crave Paradise. We all want something more than this world has to offer. We have a faint reminiscence of its music, we can almost taste the beauty, but then all is dark but for the saddest sight: God tearfully ushering broken man and woman from a place they can no longer call their home.

And the cry still echoes down the generations: “When, O God, when will we see your glory? When will we be done with this pilgrimage? When will we fly on wings of grace again?”

The glory of it is, God gives us an answer in Christmas.

When Christ came, God made man, He came to redeem us, to open the gates of Heaven again for us. Because God loves us; the very moment He sent our first parents from the garden, He was promising them salvation, a day when all mankind would have the chance once again at eternal happiness. Except this time, it would be even more splendid; we would literally be with Him, and by grace partake in His divine glory.

But first, the price for our transgressions had to be paid. The cost of the breaking of our covenant with God was death. As a priest once said in a homily, “By justice, we all deserved Hell. But Love couldn’t bear that.”

So Christ, truly God, came and took on our nature, truly man. And he came not as a mighty ruler, but as a tiny babe in a poor stable; He subjected Himself from the very beginning to our frailty, our suffering, our poverty. And so redeemed it.

Brethren, we are promised more than a Garden. We are promised Heaven, a Paradise beyond compare, beyond imagination, beyond comprehension; we are promised a home in the heart of Everlasting Love Himself.

Our crying does not go unheeded by the Lord. He has simply answered it in the most perfect and completely unexpected way.

He has answered our cry for Paradise with Christmas.

Rejoice, for He is with us, and has come to redeem us all!

The Window Philosopher

Reflections from the edge of adulthood.

dum spiro, spero.

public notes to myself for the benefit of many

A Tangled Mass

"I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God, who is sending a love letter to the world." - Bl. Mother Teresa

The Soul of Rock n' Roll

Rebelling against going with the flow...Tradition, novelty, and classical wisdom with a dose of all things Rock!

Bob Rice

Catholic speaker, musician, author, teacher

Not the Ends

when i can't keep my thoughts inside my head

Behold Your Beauty

finding beauty in every day life

Earnest Attempts

Just a young Catholic poet wanting to share his perspectives with the world.

Armads and Elendil

“I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.” ~J.R.R. Tolkien

Eärendil Star

One blog to rule them all. One blog to find them. One blog to bring them all, and in the light, bind them.

Full Fathom Five

A blog of literature and life

The Cultured Catholic

In the world, but not of the world. Cultured, yet counter-cultural. The Christian paradox.

Prayers and Promises

Finding Hope in This Crazy World