lovely view

I have fond memories of the convent in Wantage (Community of St Mary the Virgin) from my days in the Midlands.  But I haven’t been there for a while, nor have I looked at their web site.

Well, it’s all change.  They’re working really hard to have a diverse, engaging web site that offers good information about the community.  There are also lots of resources for those who are far off, including video-links to the daily office.

I always struggled with the singing at Wantage.  I felt that voices were being restrained and hemmed in lest anyone express themselves too clearly.  It was such a sharp contrast to the sense I had of the sisters as strong and grounded and ‘themselves’.  But it seems that in web journalism they have found the medium for rich, quirky expression.

… the splendid photo of the nun, lying prone on the lawn to catch a better video.

… the long loving look at a too-far-away squirrel’s nest, and the journey of the squirrels themselves down the tree.

… a splendidly narrated tour of the convent grounds, in which you have to take it all on trust, as you get the steady view and the clip clop of the pony trap.

I just love it.

Truly:  the is made me laugh till I cried.  I think it is a brilliant web site, that makes me think that maybe it is worth the long drive down.

the nature video is here, and the front page, here.

Oh, and the singing of the O Antiphons begins today at 5 pm.  Do join in…

generous vision

This Advent, I have been enjoying the Advent Calendar from Trinity, Wall Street.

Each day, there is a profile of a different young person or community project, linking faith and action.  The whole structure of volunteering is different in the States, and I think the churches are richer (and catholic theology more balanced) for the work that is done.

I love that Trinity has gone to all this trouble to highlight good work being done throughout the church — for these are not just stories of New York, but from everywhere.

Today’s post — the 14th — is about a project in New Haven, CT, and it includes pictures of the church that I usually go to when I’m ‘home.’  Not St Thomas’, of recent finding, but Christ Church, which I have returned to for 20 years for beauty, music and the tangible presence of God.  Just the tiny glimpse of the building was enough to make me wistful for Christmas Midnight services which begin in quiet darkness, and are vast enough to hold not only full circles, but stately-8-swings of the thurible.

If you check out the calendar, don’t forget to click ‘flip or scripture’.  The verse is accompanied by a song:   a lovely gift from Trinity to the rest of us.

not always, not just?

This week, my snow-locked tedium is relieved by the enthusiasm of the P4’s and P5’s  (3rd & 4th Graders, for those further afield) as they get ready for Christmas. It’s their turn to help plan and lead the Christmas Service, and between that and the carol singing and the school nativity play, the school is buzzing with festive cheer.

Yesterday, we were laying the groundwork for a service on the symbols of Christmas.  They’ve been looking at religious symbols all term, so it’s a natural jump in the midst of a busy season.  So I talked a bit about symbols having meaning — symbols connecting people across time and space — and I shared both the story of, and the terrible violence done to, the symbol of the Glastonbury Thorn.

Then it was their turn.  30 seconds to list as many Christmas Symbols as possible.  30 seconds more to try to think of something that no-one else would come up with. Then — assisted by a young girl who was superb with whiteboard and keyboard — we made big lists of the Christmas symbols:

  • tree
  • wreath
  • star
  • manger
  • pudding
  • crackers
  • holly
  • mistletoe
  • snowflakes
  • candles
    and even (in the ‘unique’ category)
  • the Christmas troll on the tree

I tried to invite everyone to share at least one symbol — though sometimes, ‘one’ turned into as-many-words-as-I-can-say-in-one-breath-really-fast-so-that-nothing-gets-missed.  And therefore, we were doing some sifting:  choosing what to write down, what to hold onto.

Then it happened.  A little girl said, ‘Cross’.  But she said ‘cross-and-star-and-baby-Jesus’ .  And I said ‘how about we stick with Baby Jesus.  The cross is good too, but maybe we can leave that for Easter.  Christianity doesn’t always have to be about the cross.’   And on we went to candy-canes-baubles-robins-ice-skating…’

But I wonder what the ripples of that throw away remark will be.  Did any of them go home and say, ‘Kimberly said that Christianity doesn’t always have to be about the cross?’    And if they did, did their parents think, ‘Oh, thank God!’ or would they have thought, ‘Dangerous… heretical.. let’s call the  bishop!’

(In truth, I suspect no one thought about it at all.  For everyone else, what we said about stars and snowflakes and winter-blossoming thorn was much more important.)

But I realise it is a pretty basic area of tension between different expressions of Christianity around the world.  Is is always about the cross?  or is the manger enough, sometimes?

In the end, I suppose we can’t separate the two — but for me (thanks, no doubt, to Lossky) Incarnation is also salvific; and we can leave the other images for other times.

And for those who disagree?  We’ll, they’ve still got the robin; and the holly.

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