Wednesday, December 04, 2024

The Cloud Of Unknowing

Baron Friedrich von Hügel, the early 20th-century Roman Catholic thinker, wrote of three elements of religion. In the institutional element, a child, for example, soaks up with delight and few questions all the customs and creeds of the religious institution. The second intellectual element most typically begins in adolescence, when individuals begin to pose questions to the inherited faith and attempt to make sense of it for themselves. If they fail in the quest of this second element, they may well abandon their childhood faith and its related institution. But if they succeed, they move on into the third or mystical element of religion, when - without in any way leaving behind the first and second elements - they are able to live with questions that no one can answer, exploring the connections of thought and feeling which help make belief not a groundless or fruitless activity, and living in an attitude of wonder and ultimate trust in the universe. 
Now it seems to me that highly gifted people are often able to move naturally and with deep fascination into Von Hügel's third element of religion. They do not in the process leave behind the institutional and intellectual aspects of faith, and this gives them a rich multi-dimensional grasp on reality and meaning - something very different from certain and final knowledge. Many in our time have continued to be able to leap across to maturity of faith. At the other end of the spectrum, however, the simple (and the faux-simple), like the poor, we always have with us in the churches.
Not so fast.

First, this sounds a bit Kierkegaardian to me: beginning in the aesthetic, moving into the ethical (this is the basic argument of Either/Or), and then advancing to the religious in the Knight of Faith (if one doesn’t get caught as the Knight of Infinite Resignation). (This is presented in Fear and Trembling.) But these are the philosophical works; not the religious works. For S.K., the two have no commerce with each other. They speak different languages about different views of the world. Even the “leap of faith” mentioned there comes from Fear and Trembling, but SK meant it was what the non-religious see and how they understand; and they are wrong. It’s the attempt of the world to explain what they cannot explain.

Take the Knight of Faith. In SK’s description we see a perfectly bourgeois man of Denmark in the mid-19th century. What SK meant was the ideal of the religious could be anybody. But he also meant the designation, the identification, the definition, were the concerns of the philosopher, not of the saint. Or the Knight of Faith, since a saint is known by semeia (miracles, specifically). By the way, without signs, how do you know the K of F? And if you need signs, how do you know the signs are…signs? Or what they signify?

SK wasn’t trying to make this simpler. 

Seminary was a very intellectual (and rigorous ) experience. It taught me to think, not to believe. It didn’t teach me to be a mystic, so much as it taught me any appeal to the metaphysical, even any consideration of it, was considered “mysticism.” Seminary doesn’t deal in mysticism. We need to define our terms here.

I’m not sure “everyone her own Aquinas” is all that sound an argument anyway, since Aquinas and Francis were both mystics (Francis reportedly was the first to display stigmata; Aquinas finished his Summa and said he had a vision that turned all his writings to straw), but both came to very different conclusions about coming to God. Aquinas used his powerful intellect, Francis his powerless humility. I’m not saying one way is better than another; I’m saying it’s dangerously reductive to think there is “one way.” Or even many ways, as long as they lead from emotional (pietism?), to intellectual (“pure theology”?), to…the Cloud of Unknowing?

Monks in the first twelve centuries of the church didn’t pursue their spiritual goals by pursuing theology. Some did, but some thought it actually got in the way of their goals. Who was right? My maternal grandfather was a Primitive Baptist and, from time to time, a lay preacher to his congregation. He had no religious education, no seminary degree. What he knew of Christianity he’d learned in that denomination. He even sang from a shaped note hymnal. His inability to formulate a systematic theology* did not make him less faithful than me, or any less of a Christian. In fact, I aspire to his trust (faith) and faithfulness. He got there without the intellectual endeavors I’ve struggled to achieve. Who’s right?

I'm not arguing with the Baron so much as I'm arguing with the Guardian.  Their take is one Kierkegaard would savage, probably with a pseudonym (because his pseudonymous works were all critiques of philosophical reasoning by showing up its limitations and blindspots).

Christianity’s mysticism, per the mystics themselves, is more connected with unknowing than knowing. The classic text here is The Cloud of Unknowing, the anonymous English text about the encounter with the ineffable (another philosophical term). Sticking with England, there’s Julian of Norwich’s near death experience which led her to a life of service and contemplation as an anchorite. St. John of the Cross wrote of the “dark night of the soul.”  St. Teresa compared the experience of God to an intimate (sexual) encounter. Not too many people aspire to a state of ratiocination that will culminate in sexual ecstasy. Doris Grumbach wrote a memoir about her unexpected spiritual experience, and how (not unlike Julian, but with far less success) she tried to understand it and, more importantly, repeat it. Mother Teresa, her contemporary, reported the same thing. Try as I might, I can’t find how the intellectual experience of seminary yields the mystical ecstasy of Teresa, or even the visions of Julian. In seminary our cloud of unknowing was the region between our understanding and what our professors were trying to teach us.

And faith, by the way, is not either blind acceptance or a willing acceptance that you’ll understand all there is to understand. That’s just experience and wisdom. Socrates taught as much. Faith is trust; but trust in what?

Exactly. 
 
I know I’m speaking strongly about something offered rather casually. But the mystical experience in Christianity is not a matter of discovery, but revelation. It doesn’t come from our efforts, but from God’s revealing. Doris Grumbach didn’t pursue God; nor did Julian, nor even Paul on the road to Damascus. Monks tried to live as much in the presence of God as they could; and if they succeeded it would be, as Julian called her visions, a “shewing.” It wouldn’t be wrapped in knowledge, but in unknowing.





*not that I hold systematics in high regard. My final paper in seminary on systematics was on why it was a mug’s game. I got in a war of words with one of my systematics professors that carried on after I graduated. I’m still bull-headed enough to insist I was right.

Somebody’s Gonna Have To Explain It To Me

So: 
 
A) Trump promises to fire the head of the FBI, and 

B) replace him with an idealogue who has promised to investigate and indict and convict Biden and his son, (as well as anybody else who catches his fancy) by raising the Burisma allegations again because, sure, why not?; and 

C) The problem is: pardoning Hunter is “self-dealing,” which must be solved by amending the Constitution?  An idea frankly so abstract and obtuse it’s unlikely to get through Congress, much less 3/4 of the state legislatures.

D) Firing Wray so Trump can appoint Patel in order to “weaponize” the primary federal law enforcement agency? Eh. Whatever. It’s Biden who’s the real problem.

 🤷🏻‍♂️

First Wednesday of Advent 2024

 

 O Saviour, rend the heavens wide;
Come down, come down with mighty stride;
Unlock the gates, the doors break down;
Unbar the way to heaven's crown.

O Father, light from heaven lend;
As morning dew, O Son, descend.
Drop down, you clouds, the life of spring:
To Jacob's line rain down the King.

O earth, in flow'ring bud be seen;
Clothe hill and dale in garb of green.
Bring forth, O earth, a blossom rare,
Our Savior, sprung from meadow fair.

O Morning Star, O Radiant Dawn,
When will we sing your morning song?
Come, Son of God! Without your light
We grope in dread and gloom of night.

Sin's dreadful doom upon us lies;
Grim death looms fierce before our eyes.
Oh, come, lead us with mighty hand
From exile to our promised land.

--Frederich von Spee, 17th century

Though the Lord has established the signs of the coming, the time of their fulfillment has not been plainly revealed. These signs have come and gone with a multiplicity of change; more than that, they are still present. The final coming is like the first.

--Ephrem, 4th century


Tuesday, December 03, 2024

It’s Pardon Day At Chez Adventus

In other news: Expect to hear this a lot. Reporters and pundits all suffer from short-time memory loss and Trump Derangement Syndome, except not the way Trump and MAGA mean that term:
Like Hunter’s pardon, Flynn’s pardon excused the crimes included in his charging documents (false statements, including false statements about being an unregistered agent of Turkey). While Hunter’s pardon specifically invoked the conduct in his Delaware and Los Angeles dockets, Flynn’s pardon excused conduct reviewed in two jurisdictions, DC and EDVA. Like Hunter’s pardon, which would cover the false statements referral from Congress, Flynn’s pardon would have covered the contradictory sworn statements he made as he tried to renege on his plea deal. But Flynn’s pardon also covered, 
any and all possible offenses arising out of facts and circumstances known to, identified by, or in any manner related to the investigation of the Special Counsel, 
This pardon attempted to excuse any crime based on a fact that once lived in Robert Mueller’s brain or case files. 
As I laid out here, that certainly would have covered referrals from Mueller elsewhere (including to DOD), it might have attempted to pardon crimes in process, if (for example) Flynn’s relationship with Russia developed into something more in the future. Flynn’s pardon, unlike Hunter’s didn’t have an end date, and as a result, if Congress wants to continue to harass Hunter about stuff he just accepted a pardon for, he’ll have less protection than Trump intended Flynn to have.
"But Michael Flynn wasn’t related to Trump!”, shouts the law school grad who failed the Bar Exam.  Fuck it. It's a trope.

Meanwhile, Biden is chuckling all the way to retirement.

Music for Advent: Albinoni's Adagio, for Organ

I bought a recording of this my sophomore year in college (first year away from home.) in the campus bookstore, before campus bookstores were owned by chains bookstores. Back when I knew NOTHING (I know less now). But it was cheap and it was “classical” Xmas music (i.e., not Andy Williams or Der Bingle), so how could I lose?

It’s mostly Bach and Torelli, Corelli and Manfredi. Nothing recognizably “Christmas” at all. Exactly what I was going for.  Oh, and the Pachelbel Canon, which was all the rage back then and probably why I bought it. I had no idea what the “Albinoni Adagio” was. But it quickly became the reason I played the album over and over, and still have it.

This recording is not that one, but it is, as that one, a version scored for organ. Odd, since everything else on the album is performed by a small string orchestra. That recording has accompanied me in Advent every year since…1974?

50 years? Damn, I’m getting old.


(The interesting thing about this memory is that I can still recall the moment I picked this album. I still see the (long gone, long since replaced) bookstore where I indulged my desire to buy literature I would read for class (and how quickly I got tired of that!). My excitement at buying a record for no better reason than that it was Xmas music. I’ve added to that collection quite a bit since. My marriage was only 3 years in the future. “Only.” At the time that was oceans of time away, as inconceivable as old age. Funny what time does to the perception of time.)

Dog. Bone. (I Can Quit Anytime)

The easiest job in the world is telling other people what they should do.

And

“Context is all.”
Humor is good, too.

Although I have to tack this on:
Tell me you’ve never attended a press conference without… you know.

Who is this asshole when he’s at home? The President of the United States stand before a roomful of reporters and take questions until they are satisfied? And how long after hell froze over would that happen?* Not to mention the POTUS doesn’t have to explain his every decision to the full satisfaction of whoever has the White House beat. What an arrogant prig, to imagine his shit smells that much like roses. 🌹 

Besides, Hunter should have suffered so Trump would have to find another implausible excuse to do whatever he’s going to do anyway.


*If memory serves, Obama actually did that once. It got down to one obnoxious reporter keeping everyone in class after the bell had rung. When it finally ended the press complained that Obama still hadn’t explained himself. Nobody remembers what the issue even was, anymore.

Keith Olbermann Is Right

Biden should pardon everyone he can think of. Fuck the pundits and the hand-wringers, and most of all fuck MAGA.

Oh, and fuck Nate Silver, too.
Because news is gossip: We now return you to our regularly scheduled programming, already in progress.

First Tuesday of Advent 2024



 Take heed, watch; for you do not know when the time will come.  It is like someone going on a journey, who leaving home and putting the servants in charge of their work, commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch.  Watch therefore--for you do not know when the lrd of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or in the morning--lest th suddenly and find you asleep.  And what I say to you I say to all:  Watch.

 --Mark 13:33-37


You, O Lord, are father to us,
our Redeemer from of old is your name.
O Lord, why do you make us err from your ways
and harden our heart, so that we fear you not?
Return for the sake of your servants,
for the tribes of your heritage.
O that you would rend the heavens and come down,
that the mountains might quake at your presence--
as when fire kindles brushwood
and the fire causes water to boil--
to make your name known to your adversaries,
and that the nations might tremble at your presence!
When you did terrible things which we looked not for,
you came down, the mountain quaked
at your presence.
From of old no one has heard
or perceived by the ear,
no eye has seen a God besides you,
who works for those who await you.
You meet those who joyfully work righeousness,
those who remember you in your ways.
Behold, you were angry and we sinned;
in our sins we have been a long time,
and shall we be saved?
We have all become like one who is unclean,
and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment.
We all fade like a leaf,
and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.
There is no one that calls upon your name,
who arises to take hold of you;
for you have hid your face from us,
and have delivered us into the hands of our inquities.
Yet, O Lord, you are father to us;
we are the clay, and you are our potter;
we are all the work of your hand.
Be not exceedingly angry, O Lord,
and remember not inquity for ever.

--Isaiah 63:16-17, 19-64:7

"These words from Isaiah are altogether too much.  Any four of them would do.  Take the first four.  What a question to put to God!  We do the wandering, we do the evil-and God gets the blame!  And then God gets invited to solve it all as the reading goes on to its "Rend the heavens!" day.  Some people have "Rend the heavens!" lives.  What would that be?  Hunger?  Fear?  Weakness?  Depression?  Addiction?  Discrimination?  How many lives shout to God to tear up the skies and put an end to this unhappiness on the tiny planet Earth!  Read Psalm 88 for an extreme example.  What reason could anyone have to speak this way to God?

"Look at a few December leaves, the old ones blowing around the ground.  Isaiah did.  What did he see?

"Yet," he says.  Yet?  Yet, what?

"A character in one of J.D. Salinger's short stories says that the most important word in the Bible is "watch."  That person would love Advent and especially the gospel:  "Be on the watch!  Stay awake!  Watch with a sharp eye!  Look around you!  Be on your guard!"  Why would "watch" be anyone's favorite notion?  How do we watch?  What are we watching for?  Take the question to Isaiah; take it to a saint you have known and one you wish you had known.

"What would help us stay awake and watch?

--Gabe Huck

Monday, December 02, 2024

First Monday Of Advent 2024-The Martyrs Of El Salvador


Advent begins, and this year we plunge immediately into martyrdom. The Christmas story includes the Massacre of the Innocents, but that comes after the Birth.  This comes much earlier, and doesn’t so much set the tone, as remind us the world will have its say, even as we prepare to take joy.

I repeat this every year.  Maybe it’s because I was only 25 in 1980, and the past disappears if you don’t remind people of it. Year after year, the story of Marisela and the soon to be martyred Archbishop never fails to move me. I practically know it by heart; but no matter. Darkness falls, especially as we near the winter solstice. We also have to remember this is the world the Christchild was born into.

This is from Memory of Fire: Volume III, Century of the Wind, by Eduardo Galeano, tr. Cedric Balfrage, Pantheon, 1988.

"ARCHBISHOP Romero offers her a chair. Marianela prefers to talk standing up. She always comes for others, but this time Marianela comes for herself. Marianela Garda Vilas, attorney for the tortured and disappeared of EI Salvador, does not come this time to ask the archbishop's solidarity with one of the victims of D'Aubuisson, Captain Torch, who burns your body with a blowtorch, or of some other military horror specialist. Marianela doesn't come to ask help for anyone else's investigation or denunciation. This time she has something personal to say to him. As mildly as she can, she tells him that the police have kidnapped her, bound, beat, humiliated, stripped her-and that they raped her. She tells it without tears or agitation, with her usual calm, but Archbishop Romero has never before heard in Marianela's voice these vibrations of hatred, echoes of disgust, calls for vengeance. When Marianela finishes, the archbishop, astounded, falls silent too.

"After a long silence, he begins to tell her that the church does not hate or have enemies, that every infamy and every action against God forms part of a divine order, that criminals are also our brothers and must be prayed for, that one must forgive one's persecutors, one must accept pain, one must. . . Suddenly, Archbishop Romero stops.

"He lowers his glance, buries his head in his hands. He shakes his head, denying it all, and says: 'No, I don't want to know.'

" 'I don't want to know,' he says, and his voice cracks.

"Archbishop Romero, who always gives advice and comfort, is weeping like a child without mother or home. Archbishop Romero, who always gives assurances, the tranquilizing assurance of a neutral God who knows all and embraces all-Archbishop Romero doubts.

"Romero weeps and doubts and Marianela strokes his head."




"THERE are so many deaths everywhere that it is incredible.

"The 'death squadron' strikes in so many poor homes. A family of seven, including three small children, was machine gunned to death in a nearby town just last week. It is a daily thing- death and bodies found
everywhere, many decomposing or attacked by animals because no one can touch them until they are seen by a coroner. It is an atmosphere of death.

"The organized, as they call the left, are made up of some of those simple courageous, suffering farmers. In the Pastoral de Asistencia [Pastoral Assistance] work that Ita began in Chatelango, one comes in contact with so many poor refugees-women and children especially, who have lost husbands, brothers, fathers.

"It has become an ordinary daily happening. Two lovely young women were cut into pieces by machetes in a community nearby where so many of the people
have been killed. The brave mother of one of these young women is also the mother-in-law of the other and she was here with us taking refuge. We are trying to help the refugees-bringing them to shelters and getting food to places where it is desperately needed.

"Archbishop Romero [murdered while he said Mass in San Salvador on March 23] and all the martyrs of this little violent land must be interceding for a new day
for Salvador.

"I am beginning to see death in a new way, dearest
Katie. For all these precious men, women, children struggling in just laying down their lives as victims, it is surely a passageway to life or, better, a change of life. . . .

"I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I am at peace here and searching-trying to learn what the Lord is asking. Ita is a beautiful, faith-filled young woman. I am learning much from her. At this point, I would hope to be able to go on, God willing. . . . This seems what he is asking of me at this moment. The work is really what Archbishop Romero called "acompanamiento"
[accompanying the people], as well as searching for ways to bring help.

"Write to me soon. Know that I love you and pray for you daily. Keep us in your heart and prayers, especially the poor forsaken people."

--Maura Clarke

Maura Clarke was a Maryknoll sister working with the poor in El Salvador when she wrote this letter in October 1980. On December 2 of that year, Maura Clarke, Ita Ford, Jean Donovan and Dorothy Kazel were brutally murdered.

Keep awake.  This is the First week of Advent.

Sunday, December 01, 2024

GOOD 👍

Tom Nichols begs to differ:
Joe Biden pardoning Hunter in a sweeping 10-year pardon is a terrible, stupid move. It's everything Trump could hope for - and it's unwarranted.
Because President Biden should continue to ask himself “WWDD?” While Trump goes back to MAL and mocks Biden for acting like a civil person. So, yeah, Biden is greasing the skids for Trump.

This is why I’m spending Advent detoxing from politics. It brings out the absolute worst in people.
My take on the Hunter Biden news is that trump has proposed creating a network of concentration camps to deal with the undocumented millions in our country
Yup.

Xmas In America



First, Christmas as we know it in America didn't really get started until the 1820's. It wasn't widely celebrated until the 1860's, and didn't become an official national holiday until 1870. So the "observance" of it (whatever that means) is not all that old. (For a bit of perspective, A Christmas Carol was published in 1843, and many scholars today attribute the "revival" of Christmas celebrations in England to Dickens). And from almost the moment the holiday was observed as a holiday, it was connected to commerce. So the connection between Christmas and shopping, in America, is as old as Christmas in America itself.

The other matter is:  there was no single "church" in America (still isn't).  Christmas in Europe came directly from Rome and really wasn't widespread there until the 11th century (another story entirely), so most of what we think of as "traditional Christmas" is from medieval Europe (not that there's anything wrong with that!), and a lot of it in this country traces back to Tudor England.

We'll get to that.

The first important point is that Christmas didn't enter this country via the Roman Catholics (who gave us the word, after all).  Christmas was banned by the Puritans, who pretty much hated it.  But what they hated was not what Scrooge hated:  they didn't hate Christmas trees (that didn't show up until the 19th century here, anyway) or greens and garland, or even Santa Claus.  The Puritans hated the raucous nature of Christmas; oh, and that the word itself referred to the "Christ Mass," which was much too "Romish" (their word) to tolerate in the New World.

But I need to put that in context, so bear with me a moment.  As I said, most of the celebrations of Christmas we have today (in America, anyway) have roots in Tudor England and the court of Henry VIII.  There was gift giving even then, but gift giving was engaged in only among the peerage, and  Henry expected the best gifts to come to him. He was rather how you imagine Donald Trump to be on Christmas morning: his gifts are to others are small, what he expects to receive is large.  Gifting to family and friends was far in the future from Henry; adult to child giving further away still. Today Christmas is for children, first and foremost. The root of that is one I'm interested in tracing.

Henry’s Christmas celebrations also lasted for 12 days and included many feasts (mostly because the food was available and food storage almost nonexistent. Use it or lose it was the rule for much of Europe for centuries). It included the “Lord of Misrule,” usually a courtier given license to lead the drinking and carousing and general carrying on. That doesn’t reach back to Rome, either. But Puritans in America, like Increase Mather, tried to argue that it did.

In the Apostolical times the Feast of the Nativity was not observed....It can never be proved that Christ was born on December 25....The New Testament allows of no stated Holy-Day but the Lords-day...It was in compliance with the Pagan saturnalia that Christmas Holy-dayes were first invented. The manner of Christmas-keeping, as generally observed, is highly dishonorable to the name of Christ.

--Increase Mather, 1687.  

“If it had been the will of God that the several acts of Christ should have been celebrated with several solemnities, the Holy Ghost would have made known to us the day of his nativity, circumcision, presentation in the temple, baptism, transfiguration, and the like.” . . . . “This opinion of Christ’s nativity on the 25th day of December was bred at Rome.”

Also Increase Mather.

He's not wrong about that date for Christmas Day.  And his connection of Christmas to Saturnalia is where many an armchair historian and scholar has determined that's exactly what history says (it isn't.)  The salient point for us is that Christmas in America had little or nothing to do with the Church (or any church), and a great deal more to do with commerce.  I can explain that rather simply (this isn't a lecture, after all), by pointing to the figure of Santa Claus.

Take it as accurate the Santa Claus from from the Danish figure Sinterklaas, who in turn comes from St. Nicholas (whose feast day is Dec. 6; we'll get there, too).  I have a picture of Sinterklaas, and it hardly resembles the figure of Clement Moore, Thomas Nast, or Haddon Sondblom (the artist of the '50's and '60's Coca-Cola Santas of my childhood.)  Sinterklass is depicted astride a regal white horse, bedecked with golden bridle and all the trimmings, as it flys through the sky (sans wings, not unlike the reindeer).  Sinterklaas sits regal and proud in the saddle, a tall, lean man wearing a Bishop's mitre and carrying a golden crozier.  Hardly the "jolly old elf" Moore says he saw in his living room. But Sinterklaas is a Catholic figure, a saint and the very picture of a Prince of the Church.  Santa Claus is a creature of mythology ("elf") who comes as a kind and trustworthy peddler, taking care of  Christmas for Mom and Dad and (especially) the kids.  Who are presumed to be "good" without having to prove it (post-Romanticism has been good for children, by and large). In the latest very American iteration, toy stores in "Red One" (the newest Xmas movie about Santa) all have "portals" to the North Pole, the better to deliver the toys which are provided to the children.  Or...something.  It's all about commerce, anyway, which is hardly what Sinterklaas was about.

Our American Christmas, in brief, was never about Advent and scriptures and taking care of the poor, which is one of the lessons of the Christchild being born in a feeding trough ("manger" is the nicer euphemism).  Although now we make the former saint kneel beside the Babe,  in tacit recognition that Santa Claus has eclipsed the "reason for the season."  Which it was in Europe; but never really was in America.




The fact is, Christmas as we know it and celebrate it in America, is pretty much an invention of the market place, and has only and ever tangentially been related to Christmas as a religious observance, as the "Christ Mass" held to honor the birth of the Savior. It's more like the two celebrations occur coincidentally at the same time of year, than that one is a vulgar and degrading corruption of the Platonic ideal of the other. Once you understand that, the picture becomes much clearer; or perhaps darker.

If you want to understand how Christmas got started in America, consider the example of the European Feast of Fools. As New Advent says, it was "a celebration marked by much license and buffoonery." Scholars again differ on the reach and importance of this festival; some crown it as a n important "release valve" of the tensions and pressures of feudal society. Others, like Michel Foucault, downplay it. It was limited to northern France and a few other regions of Europe, and always opposed by the Church. The lesson for us is that this 'feast' was a folk celebration, not a church one, and its irreverence was tolerated by the Church because they couldn't stop it, more than it was encouraged as a way of reminding the peasants of their place in the hierarchy (a comparison to Christmas in the slave holding South will prove instructive here, if I remember to mention it again). Christmas, too, was a folk celebration, one more honored in the British South (thanks to the presence of the Episcopal church) than in Puritan New England (where it was officially banned for a time, in at least some of the New England states). Restad's history presents Christmas as largely a folk celebration, in contrast to Thanksgiving, which was vigorously promoted in the 19th century by Sara Josepha Hale, who did more than any individual to promote Thanksgiving as a national holiday (ironically, the objections to it were on church/state grounds. It was argued that a national day of giving thanks would violate the First Amendment, an objection that was finally obviated by the times, when Lincoln established what later became the holiday) Aside from the religious entanglement objection, Thanksgiving was regarded as more of a "New England" celebration than a national one, for much of that century. Christmas, on the other hand, crept into public celebrations from many lands and many hands, and was early on largely disconnected from any religious observance, and while promoted as connected to the Christchild, was really no more dependent upon Church sanction than it is now. The idea, in other words, that there was a "pure" Christmas observance in America once upon a time, which the marketplace or the public square corrupted, is as false as the idea that the Christmas celebration we know now descended in an almost unbroken line from the Roman Saturnalia. It just happens that people like an excuse to exchange gifts and eat a lot of food, and especially for people from a northern European culture, winter is a jolly good time to do that.

Christmas that year, not one to look forward to, was one we should alway look back on.

That's the opening sentence of "Looking Back on Christmas" by William Owens.  I don't know if it's memoir or fiction, but it's become one of my favorite Christmas stories.   It's the story of a family gathering in rural Texas on Christmas Eve.  The family gathers, then sits down to dinner, and after dinner:

After the first table [old Texas tradition my family carried on with in my childhood:  the men ate first, then retired, and the women and children ate.  Yeah, my wife was appalled by that, too, and it was long before we were married that she encountered it.] the men and the bigger boys built up a big fire in the pasture between the house and the front gate.  Then, while the women stood on the front porch to watch, Uncle Charlie gave the little children firecrackers and showed them how to shoot them.  He put a paper fuse against a live coal.  When it had lighted he threw it away from the fire into the dark.

"Don't ever let one go off in your hand," he said, "And don't throw it close to nobody.  Somebody might get hurt."

While we went through the firecrackers he had given us, the men made a trip back to the kitchen.  This time they brought the jug with them and set it in the back end of a wagon.  They brought out more fireworks, and Monroe had the sack of powder in his coat pocket.

"Time for a roman candle," Uncle Charlie said.

He took a long red roman candle and went to the fire.

"You all watch now," he said, "I'm gonna hold it like I was aiming to shoot the gate."

Charlie runs into the dark and let's the candle shoot balls of fire, then he gets Othal to join him in a roman candle battle.  Full disclosure:  I once did something similar with my cousin, although in summer, not winter.  We used plastic tubes from his golf bag to launch bottle rockets at each other.  We didn't even have the excuse of alcohol, we were just young and dumb.

Anyway, you get the flavor of the celebration.  Firecrackers going off, then roman candles being fired at each other in close range.  Then when those are exhausted and everyone's tired of running around and through the house:

Uncle Charlie was not ready for the fun to be over.  He went up the steps and across the front porch.  Aunt Niece was standing in the door, with the lamplight behind her.  He lifted her chin with his fingers and went on past her, to the chimney corner where he kept his double-barreled shotgun.  Then he came out with the gun under his arm and a box of shells in his hand.

Near the fire, he loaded both barrels and set the stock against his shoulder.

"You aiming at the gate?" Othal asked.

"You got to aim at something."

He fired, and after the first blast we heard shot rattle against the gate.

"Got it first shot," Othal said, and ran for his own gun.

In no time at all, five guns were blazing away at the gate, and the little children were running for hiding places under the house.  I shivered at the sound, but felt safe, for their backs were to us and they were aiming at the gate.

Then Othal came running around the house, loading and firing as he ran, and some of the others took after him.  The women had run inside, but I could hear them telling the men to stop.  Too scared to stay under the house, I crawled out and started for the door.  In the darkness I can straight into Otha's knees, and he let a double-barreled blast go off right over my head, leaving a burning flash in my eyes and a ringing in my ears.

The gate was "a wide, heavy gate made of oak timbers fourteen feet long and an inch thick."  However, the next morning:  "We went to look at the gate, and found it half hanging from the posts, with the timbers drilled and splintered by shot."  The story ends this way:

Uncle Charlie came in with a backstick for the fireplace.  My grandmother was waiting for him.

"You ruint the gate," she said.

"I reckon we did."

He laughed and the light in his blue eyes showed he was not sorry.  She frowned and went out to the front porch.

Aunt Niece came in, with a peeled orange in her hand.

"Christmas gift," he said to her.

She went up to him and stuck a slice of orange between his teeth.  They were both laughing without making a sound, and once he leaned over and kissed her.

"I had me some Christmas," he said.

Not so long ago, that story.  It wasn't just in the 1800's that Christmas was a lot different.  But I cite it because this is precisely the celebration of Christmas the Puritans despised.  And frankly, when Christmas Day is spent either in the glow of unbridled lust (wanting goods is as lustful as wanting sexual congress), or the afterglow of "Now what?", I think we could do with a bit more of a raucous Christmas celebration.  Sometimes I think we vanquished the Puritans, and still the Puritans won.

The interesting thing about Christmas in America is that it's always been a glorious bastard, a jackdaw of a project grabbing "Christmas trees" from Germany (related to the "Paradeisbaum" of the medieval German morality plays) and decking the halls and boar's heads and feasting from England (which may or may not be related to, or even influenced by, Druidic practices. It's always seemed like a bit of a stretch to me to go from kissing under the mistletoe directly back to Frazer's "golden bough"). Carols were a medieval creation coming, per Restad, from pagan folk dances that people liked and simply "Christianized" (like most things, the Church couldn't beat 'em, so it joined 'em), although many of the carols we know today are products of the 18th and 19th centuries (so it goes). The idea of caroling, IOW, is much older than most of our carols. As Restad points out, Christmas in America was cobbled together from European bits and pieces, and the parts that fit in America stuck, and the parts that didn't fell away.

We forget, too, that America initially had no holidays. Europe had them because of the church, which was universal throughout the different countries of Europe, and because of local customs. But without a universal church, or established local customs, America went, for almost a century, without any national holiday which all citizens could claim as their own. Ironically, again, that holiday became Christmas; but not because all Americans were, or were even presumed to be, Christians.

Stephen Nissenbaum argues that the American Christmas was formed more by Clement Clark Moore's poem than any other single source. Accepting his position arguendo, what is most notable about "The Night Before Christmas" is that it creates a holiday and the celebration of it, without ever getting closer to religion than the word "Christmas" (which the Puritan New Englanders despised as a "Romish" word, but which, by Moore's day, had lost almost all religious connotation). This was more a feature than a bug in the 19th century. Dicken's Christmas Carol comes closer to invoking the religious reasons for the season, but he does it mostly in terms of Victorian sentimentality, than in terms of any church doctrine. Penne Restad points out that Christmas was grabbed onto by merchants in America almost as soon as it emerged as a public celebration. The emergence of the holiday coincided with a renewed interest in the power and importance of domesticity, an interest probably prompted by the Industrial Revolution and the quick acceptance by Americans of the ideals of the Romantic movement (especially the importance of children as children). Personally, I think it was a combination of Romanticism and the Pietistic movement of the 17th century, which effects lingered long in a Protestant dominated culture, but Restad makes clear the connections between the desires for domestic values and the importance of a uniting holiday, one everyone could gather into despite cultural ("Germany" as we know it, for example, didn't exist in the 19th century. We often overlook how many cultural differences there were between Europeans, differences that carried over into America) and doctrinal differences. In this sense, Christmas was the first truly "American" holiday. Grafted onto European roots, without doubt; but made a holiday both observant Christians and non-Christians (and yes, there were some, even in the 19th century!) could engage in. It's not at all insignificant that Christmas in America began almost as a religious observance almost anyone could join, and quickly became a public holiday everyone could revel in. And aside from the Puritan's objections to the holiday's Catholic roots, it was the revelry they objected to almost as much.





Where were we then? Oh, yes: Christmas has always been two things at once, especially in America. It's never been a particularly religious holiday, so much as it's been a holiday named for and celebrated around a religious observance (which is still more honored in the breach than in the keeping). Christmas became, almost as soon as it was universally celebrated, a celebration of hearth and home, of domesticity (to this day, does a Christmas tree remind you first of Rockefeller Center, or of your childhood home?) Restad shows us that the Christmas tree itself became an American custom because it came with stories of German families gathered around a small tree on a table top, revealed in all its decorations and offerings of presents by the parents to the excited children. It was the American twist that the tree got bigger and bigger until it had to scrape whatever ceiling it was placed under from the floor on which it had to sit. Some things truly never change.

And I have to add here:  that's a problem in its own right, though probably not the one you are thinking of right now:

In their comprehension of poverty and its solutions, most Americans moved little beyond Dickens. They believed their Christmas generosity praiseworthy. Charles Dudley Warner thought the present American Christmas to be "fuller of real charity and brotherly love, and nearer the Divine intention" than earlier Christmases. The New York Tribune found the holiday "hearty and generous-minded, [full of] good-cheer and open-handed hospitality." "Nowhere in Christendom," it contended, "are the poor remembered at Christmas-tide so generously as they are in American cities, especially in our own."

In this show of self-congratulation, Americans persisted in seeing poor relief as a matter of individual action to be undertaken on much the same terms as gift-giving within the circle of family. That is, Christmas was the time to give. The best and largest gifts went to those closest to the circle's center. The lesser gifts, in descending order of value, went out to relatives and acquaintances of decreasing importance. The worthy poor, as the outermost members of the larger community family, received gifts too, though the least valuable of all the gifts given.
Penne L. Restad, Christmas in America, p. 139, 140

Perhaps I should explain who the "worthy poor" were:

A sense that there were those who were worthy of relief and those who were not qualified the attention devoted to poverty relief [after the Civil War], though. Children almost always deserved aid, as did honest women. Seldom did the same plea go out for men. A seasonal article on the New York Tribune implored the public to provide for poor children. In 1877, it reminded readers that most Americans were "Christian people," and advised them to try their best to keep children from being deprived at this time "when they think that all good gifts and gladness come straight from Him whose birthday it is." At the same time, the paper advised the sympathetic to ignore plain street beggars.
As Restad notes:

The sentimentalization of "worthy paupers" at Christmas time, whether in fact or in fiction, did not bring into question the essential structure of the market economy that had, if only indirectly, produced their poverty. Instead, it imbued destitute women and vagabond children with admirable qualities that existed apart from materialism, perhaps even as substitues for tangible wealth. It also aroused the sympathies of readers by giving a face to poverty, and placed the means of solving the problems of hunger and homelessness in the hands of individuals.(p. 135)
I've learned to look to history for lessons in how we got here, and to understand culture as a genetic inheritance (metaphorically speaking) almost as pre-determined as eye color or gender. we think what we think and act the way we act in part because of who our ancestors were, and what they passed on as important and valuable. The "worthy poor" is an interesting category, especially at this season of the year, when even the most unbelieving among us is encouraged to reflect on the lessons of the man who grew up from the Christchild. Well, perhaps lessons is not the right word. As Bob Cratchit puts it to his wife, speaking of his youngest son:

"Somehow he gets thoughtful sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see."
We don't, after all, want to be reminded that Jesus never put a faith test before someone before Jesus would speak to them, and the one time it is recorded that he did, the Syro-Phoenician woman rebukes him quite accurately. We still prefer our Jesus be more like us, and to start him up from childhood that way, every new year.

I'm well aware of the John Cheever story  about Christmas being a sad season for the poor. First it crossed my mind as just a good post title; then I reflected on how much it represents that American ideal that individual actions can alleviate poverty for the "worthy poor." I can't think of a story that illustrates that better than Cheever's. It's not really a question of generosity, even, because that question gets down to the issue of ownership in the first place. Restad notes in her history of Christmas in America that it was the affluence and abundance produced after the Civil War that led people to think of widening the circle of their gift-giving, to begin to include at all the "worthy poor." Hard to condemn such compassion, and any critique of it looks just like that: condemnation. But there were other voices, even in the 19th century, even in America:

People nowadays interchange gifts and favors out of friendship, but buying and selling is considered absolutely inconsistent with the mutual benevolence which should prevail between citizens and the sense of community of interest which supports our social system. According to our ideas, buying and selling is essentially anti-social in all its tendencies. It is an education in self-seeking at the expense of others, and no society whose citizens are trained in such a school can possibly rise above a very low grade of civilization
-- Edward Bellamy

The ultimate aim of production is not production of goods but the production of free human beings associated with one another on terms of equality.
-- John Dewey

I confess that I am not charmed with the ideal of life held out by those who think that the normal state of human beings is that of struggling to get on; that the trampling, crushing, elbowing, and treading on each other's heels, which form the existing type of social life, are the most desirable lot of human beings
-- John Stuart Mill

The gross national product includes air pollution and advertising for cigarettes, and ambulances to clear our highways of carnage. It counts special locks for our doors, and jails for the people who break them ... It does not allow for the health of our families, the quality of thier education, or the joy of their play.
-- Robert F. Kennedy

We must recognize that we can't solve our problems now until there is a radical redistribution of economic and political power....[What is required is] a radical restructuring of the architecture of American society.
-- Martin Luther King, Jr
There was a story about a Christmas yard display in Detroit that was too political for some of the neighbors. And generally that's our line on Christmas: we want to reserve it "for the children," and of course, that's still how we think of the "worthy poor," as children. Hard to think of men as children, so they get excluded from the "worthy poor" very easily. We also don't like quotes like those above associated with our Christmas revels. Fair enough. But perhaps even at Christmas we could look again at the ideas of scarcity and abundance, and consider again whether charity really means merely scraping the crumbs off our tables, or if it means something more.

Christmas is a sad season for the poor; but that doesn't mean it has to be; or that our charity has to be based on sorrow, either.

So is our Christmas ruined by all this commercialism? Depends on whether or not you agree with Linus about "what Christmas is all about." I like his answer, personally. But that's the answer for some of us; it isn't, and doesn't have to be, the answer for all of us. Let it be unto you according to your...well, faith, is how the German E&R Church concluded that blessing. But this isn't necessarily a matter of faith. So let it be unto you according to your best interest. Keep Christmas as it best suits you. And may it be a blessing unto you. Now, and into the ages.

First Sunday Of Advent 2024 A Christmas Carol

“Marley was dead, to begin with.”

Jeremiah 33:14-16

The days are surely coming, says the LORD, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah.

In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David, and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land.

In those days Judah will be saved, and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: "The LORD is our righteousness."

Psalm 25:1-10

To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul.

O my God, in you I trust; do not let me be put to shame; do not let my enemies exult over me.

Do not let those who wait for you be put to shame; let them be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous.

Make me to know your ways, O LORD; teach me your paths.

Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all day long.

Be mindful of your mercy, O LORD, and of your steadfast love, for they have been from of old.

Do not remember the sins of my youth or my transgressions; according to your steadfast love remember me, for the sake of your goodness, O LORD!

Good and upright is the LORD; therefore he instructs sinners in the way.

He leads the humble in what is right and teaches the humble his way.

All the paths of the LORD are steadfast love and faithfulness, for those who keep his covenant and his decrees.

1 Thessalonians 3:9-13

How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy that we feel before our God because of you?

Night and day we pray most earnestly that we may see you face to face and restore whatever is lacking in your faith.

Now may our God and Father himself and our Lord Jesus direct our way to you.

And may the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, just as we abound in love for you.

And may he so strengthen your hearts in holiness that you may be blameless before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his saints.

Luke 21:25-36

"There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves.

People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.

Then they will see 'the Son of Man coming in a cloud' with power and great glory.

Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near."

Then he told them a parable: "Look at the fig tree and all the trees;

as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near.

So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near.

Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place.

Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

"Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day catch you unexpectedly,

like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth.

Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man." 



Advent is spread out across the four Sundays before Christmas Day.  Each Sunday has a traditional theme:  "Watch," for the first Sunday; John the Baptist for the Second; Mary's Magnificat on Gaudete, or the Third Sunday; and anticipating the arrival on the Fourth Sunday.

It struck me this year that Dickens’s Christmas Carol can be understood as an Advent story, and the Advent story can be understood through the Carol. This is a dangerous enterprise because it’s a familiar one for the preachers I grew up around: using cheesy stories because the scriptures aren’t interesting enough. I’m not trying to elevate the Carol to the status of scripture, or used by God to teach the benighted the salvific truth of the gospel. All I mean is to use the familiar story to discuss the meaning of the Advent, and what it offers. Using the familiar to explicate the unfamiliar. That’s an old epistemological, and pastoral, strategy, too.

My plan is to attach a ghost to a Sunday, and use them as metaphors, the way Dickens did. So this will be, in part, an act of literary criticism. And, in lesser part, a sermon, I’ll probably focus more on Dickens’s work than on the week’s scriptures (for me, a sermon is centered on the scripture readings); and in large part a meditation on Advent as a preparation, and a preparation for… something, rather than anything.

The plan makes Jacob Marley a prophet in the vein of Jeremiah and John the Baptizer. Christmas Past bridges between John and Gaudete, where Christmas Present is the joy meant by Gaudete (if I can pull this off). Finally comes Christmas Future, because the Fourth Sunday of Advent looks to the future; and Advent is meant to prepare us for that future, as Christmas Future points Scrooge to the future that will be if he doesn’t learn the lessons of Jacob, and Past, and Present, and Future.

Now let’s start with Marley and see if I can make this work.

Jeremiah is a prophet during the Exile. He condemns Israel’s apostasy even as he weeps for the suffering of the people, suffering caused by their apostasy. This makes Jeremiah a perfect example of what Scrooge isn’t: a man concerned with others even as he holds them responsible for their suffering. Scrooge is concerned only with Scrooge. The misfortune of others is their fault and none of Scrooge’s concern. It’s important to recognize this, or the redemption of Scrooge is ultimately meaningless. Jeremiah understands the people are suffering because of a system of governance, an order of things, which they have accepted, and which is punishing them. They are responsible for their suffering, but Jeremiah laments for them. Scrooge thinks the poor are victims of their own actions, and he disavows any responsibility for them.

Indeed, he does this three times before we know any more about him. First, he rejects his nephew’s invitation to dinner and his blessings of the season (“You’re poor enough.”); then a seasonal appeal for charity (“Are there no prisons? And the Union workhouses. Are they still in operation?”); and finally he complains of his clerk having a holiday (“A poor excuse for picking a man’s pocket every 25th of December!”). Scrooge rejects connection with family; his community; even his employee. And the ghost of Marley comes as an Old Testament prophet to tell Scrooge the error of his ways.

It helps to understand that the prophets were not scowling judges pouring out the bowls of God’s wrath on Israel. They were trying to tell the people what had happened, and why, and what to do about it. Jeremiah, especially, weeps for the people even as he tells them the truth of what they’ve done to themselves. Marley offers the same basic message to Scrooge. He wants to spare Scrooge his fate. And he tells Scrooge to keep awake, because Scrooge doesn’t know when the lessons are coming, or what they will be. But Marley is important in his own right. He has his own lesson for Scrooge.

In Luke’s gospel, Jesus tells the parable of Lazarus and the rich man. At one point in the story, when the rich man has died and suffers eternal torment for his neglect of Lazarus begging at his gates, the rich man asks  Abraham to let him return to his brothers as a ghost, to warn them of the consequences of their selfishness and neglect of their duty to others.  Abraham points out they have the teachings of the prophets, that if they won’t learn from that, they won’t listen to one returned from death. 

Which Scrooge, the “man of a worldly mind,” doesn’t want to do: that is, listen to Marley.

“You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There’s more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!”

So Marley has to prepare the way for the Three Spirits. He has to prepare Scrooge to receive their lessons. Without that, their lessons would just be random anecdotes from the past, bits of Christmas pleasures in the present, and frightening aspects of a future that always scares us over the worst that could happen. Their lessons prepare Scrooge to change his life. Marley’s lessons prepare Scrooge to learn from the Spirits. Marley teaches Scrooge not only to watch; but what to watch for. And also what lessons he should learn.

“But you were always a good man of business, Jacob,” faltered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself. 

“Business!” cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. “Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!”

A lesson resting on this thought:
“Man of the worldly mind!” replied the Ghost, “do you believe in me or not?” 
“I do,” said Scrooge. “I must. But why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me?” 
“It is required of every man,” the Ghost returned, “that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellowmen, and travel far and wide; and if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world—oh, woe is me!—and witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness!”
"Am I my brother’s keeper?,” asks Scrooge. “Yes!,” answers Marley.  “Then who is my brother?” And Marley decides to show, rather than tell.
It beckoned Scrooge to approach, which he did. When they were within two paces of each other, Marley’s Ghost held up its hand, warning him to come no nearer. Scrooge stopped. 
Not so much in obedience, as in surprise and fear: for on the raising of the hand, he became sensible of confused noises in the air; incoherent sounds of lamentation and regret; wailings inexpressibly sorrowful and self-accusatory. The spectre, after listening for a moment, joined in the mournful dirge; and floated out upon the bleak, dark night. 
Scrooge followed to the window: desperate in his curiosity. He looked out. 
The air was filled with phantoms, wandering hither and thither in restless haste, and moaning as they went. Every one of them wore chains like Marley’s Ghost; some few (they might be guilty governments) were linked together; none were free. Many had been personally known to Scrooge in their lives. He had been quite familiar with one old ghost, in a white waistcoat, with a monstrous iron safe attached to its ankle, who cried piteously at being unable to assist a wretched woman with an infant, whom it saw below, upon a door-step. The misery with them all was, clearly, that they sought to interfere, for good, in human matters, and had lost the power for ever.
Marley, famously, doesn’t tell Scrooge who the Spirits are who will visit him; he tells only their number: the three spirits, who turn out to be the Spirits of Christmas. As it further turns out, they prepare Scrooge for Christmas.🎄 The next three weeks of Advent are supposed to do the same. 

Be ready to be prepared. Keep awake. Watch! Consider that Scrooge thought he knew the time. Consider, that he did not.