By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
We finally had our first snowfall of the winter in London yesterday. Big gloppy chunks of snowflakes, which I knew would melt immediately. I should have forced myself to go out for a walk in it, for that is one of the pleasures in life. But I didn’t, and of course most of it is now gone.
Take a few moments with this picture. Maybe it’ll bring to mind moments of cross-country skiing, like the ones I have of being simultaneously shivering while also sweating. Maybe you’ll want to pause to transplant yourself into the picture, imagining the scenery around you as you take a deep, fresh breath and see the evergreens and the trail in front of you.
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
Blue January can still be beautiful, right?
Take some time to walk in this painting, imagining that you’re in this atmospheric scene. Are you alone, or is someone with you? What do you sense and feel? Where is God?
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
Scenes such as this one make me feel a bit nostalgic, for
they are commonplace in Minnesota, where I grew up. Whereas winter in London
means a bracing wind, soaking rain, and radiator heat at set times in the day.
I don’t miss the freezing temperatures, but I fancy the
thought of a walk in the snow, boots sinking down with each step, feeling warm
under the layers from the exertion of the amble.
One of my all-time favorite paintings by my dad, Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
Happy Epiphany!
The wise men have made their journey to the toddler Jesus, bringing their gifts of gold, incense, and myrrh. I learned a few things today from our youth worker’s sermon – the Western Church believes there were three wise men (because of the three gifts they brought), but the Eastern Church says there were twelve. Our preacher also made the good point that these visitors were the first outsiders to visit Jesus, thus marking the God-Made-Man’s mission to reach everyone in the world with his message of love, grace, and forgiveness.
Thank you for journeying with me through the twelve days of
Christmas! I pray you’ll have a blessed and joyous Ephipanytide.
The last day for Christmas decorations, unless you leave yours up until Candlemas (February 2). Painting by Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
We’ve reached the end of the Christmas season, the twelfth
day of Christmas! Tomorrow is Epiphany, when we mark the arrival of the wise
men bringing their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to the newborn King.
I’ve been reading about the Twelfth Night parties in England
in years past, finding the practices fascinating. Often servants and their
masters would change places for the evening, with the master serving the
servant. A dried bean or pea would be baked into a spice fruitcake, and whoever
found it in their portion would be crowned king or queen of the party. Some of
the revelry would include games with eggs – the egg and spoon race, and one
that I’d like to try, a “toss the egg” game where a raw egg is thrown between
two people at ever increasing lengths between them.
Spiritually, we can consider what gifts we’d like to give to
Jesus this year. Perhaps a new emphasis on hospitality, or intercession, or
keeping our temper, or increasing our tithing.
Will you celebrate Twelfth Night? If yes, how? What about an Epiphany party? And what gifts would you like to seek to give this year?
I wonder what sorts of scenes Simeon saw in the desert. Maybe some moody sunsets, such as this one by my dad, Leo Boucher (used with permission; all rights reserved).
The eleventh day of Christmas coincides with the feast day of Simeon Stylites (c. 390? – 2 September 459). No, I hadn’t heard of him either. He was zealous for Christ, entering a monastery before he 16 years old. So committed was he to acts of extreme austerity that the other monks asked him to leave.
He decided to live in solitude, fasting completely for Lent and somehow surviving. Crowds of pilgrims searched him out, seeking advice and, I guess, wanting to “catch” some of his holiness. As he tried to escape the attention, he moved on top of a pillar. He went from stone to stone over the years, moving higher and higher as he sought solitude for his prayers and practices, living the rest of his years on a cold stone platform. Thirty-seven years all together.
As Edward Gibbon remarked in History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,
In this last and lofty station, the Syrian Anachoret resisted the heat of thirty summers, and the cold of as many winters. Habit and exercise instructed him to maintain his dangerous situation without fear or giddiness, and successively to assume the different postures of devotion. He sometimes prayed in an erect attitude, with his outstretched arms in the figure of a cross, but his most familiar practice was that of bending his meagre skeleton from the forehead to the feet…
Before I started my MA in Christian spirituality, I wondered about levels mysticism and these extreme forms of austerity and spiritual practice. Had these anchorites reached the pinnacle of spiritual life? I concluded through my MA readings a strong “no.” Although we can learn from those who withdraw from the world, I don’t believe they have a higher status than those who live in community. Transformation of one’s life – not extreme practices of penance or solitude – is what reveals God at work.
But I don’t want to dismiss Simeon all together. The crowds sought him for his wisdom, meaning that even in the desert he couldn’t escape from engagement with others. And he remained humble and obedient to his fellow monks, for when they wondered if he lived on the pillar out of pride or obedience, they demanded that he come down. He obeyed, and so they decided that he was following God – and they let him stay.
Over to you – what do you think of these extreme practices? Have you ever embraced something like a long fast or a time of solitude? If yes, how did you fare? Did you grow in your faith?
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
On the tenth day of Christmas, some Christian traditions celebrate
the naming of Jesus in the temple (other traditions celebrate this on January
1). When the angel appeared to Joseph, he learned what to name the boy, who was
conceived by the Holy Spirit:
But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:20-21, NIV).
The very name of Jesus shows his calling – to save us from our
sins.
What names come to mind when you think of Jesus? Here are a few you might want to ponder today, as you celebrate during this season of Christmas:
Emmanuel (God with us)
Son of God
Son of man
Son of David
New Adam
The Word
Morning star
Light of the world
King of Kings
Lord of Lords
Lamb of God
Teacher
Bread of life
Advocate
Messiah
Redeemer
Risen Lord
Savior
Rock
True Vine
Lord
Which names of Jesus speak to you most powerfully?
By Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
Today, on the ninth day of Christmas, it feels countercultural to celebrate the season. Part of me would like to take down the Christmas decorations while cleaning and doing some decluttering. The newness of the year feels like a push toward embracing all things clean and fresh.
So sometimes it feels like a discipline to celebrate and feast. I’m keenly aware of those who are grieving or going through other difficulties, who need God’s grace to get through this season, and are probably finding it hard to celebrate. They may be echoing Psalm 137:4: “How can we sing the songs of the Lord while in a foreign land?” If that’s you, I pray you’ll find a hint of celebration through rest and recovery.
For me, as we only have twelve days of Christmas, I’m going to seek to embrace the gift that they are – while doing a bit of decluttering and vacuuming by the Christmas tree.
How are you approaching celebrating on this ninth day?
May you find unexpected beauty if your landscape is stark. Painting by Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! (2 Corinthians 5:17)
We enter 2019 with hopes and dreams, and perhaps some fears.
May we know God’s loving presence as we journey through the seasons, that he might
strengthen our faith and dispel the fears.
Here’s a prayer inspired by George Dawson, the English nonconformist (1821–1876), that you might want to join me in praying:
Almighty God, have mercy on us, who, when troubled with the things that are past, lose faith, life, courage, and hope.
So have mercy on us, and uphold us.
Sustain us with a true faith, knowing that you are merciful and forgiving.
Help us to live according to your word, to rejoice in your goodness, to trust in your mercy, and to hope in life with you that never ends.
Help us, whatever we’re going through, to remember that you guide us and lead us.
And in the darkest days, may we know your presence so that we will have courage to go on, faith to endure, patience to bear, and hopefulness to hold out, even unto the end.
Amen.
(Original found in Great
Souls at Prayer, compiled by Mary W. Tileston, [Cambridge: James Clark &
Co., 1898]).
Churches are picturesque, but they can be “middling” places as well! Love this painting by Leo Boucher. Used with permission; all rights reserved.
On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…
Can you remember? Six maids a milking? Geese a laying? An
online search says I got it right with the second guess.
My memory for that popular song is murky, just as this point in the Christmas season can feel murky. Many people have taken down their Christmas trees and decorations, ready to move into 2019 with a new purpose. It feels countercultural to keep banging on about the days of Christmas, especially in this messy middle (see the wonderful blog by Amy Young by this name), when the wonder of the first days of Christmas seem long past and the end feels a long way off.
How can you make the sixth day of Christmas feel special?
