The Meaning Of Christmas

I hope you're all having a wonderful Christmas. I say "having" because the Christmas season goes on till the celebration of the Baptism of the Lord, this year on Sun. Jan. 9th. I feel it is important to remember this. The Mass readings and Divine Office prayers between now and the Baptism feast help us to put Christ's birth in the context of his Incarnation as God made Man, of his life, death and resurrection. In his birth the Passion is foreshadowed through the feast of the Holy Innocents (children massacred by King Herod in his failed attempt to root out and kill the prophesied threat to his throne) and obviously in the gift of Myrrh which was used for embalming the dead.

That's not to say that we should dampen peoples' spirits at this time of year by getting all morbid. But I think that being able to see and celebrate Christmas in its wider liturgical context can help people to overcome the inevitable feeling of let down that follows the "high" of carol services on crisp winter nights, mince pies around the fire, Christmas trees + decorations + presents + Nintendo Wii games played in a drunken stupor...

This is also one of the reasons why I always look forward to coming here to our Mother House in Ploërmel, Brittany (where I write this) 2 days after Christmas, not that we too get the Nintendo Wii out, but rather that the talks + discussions that we have together during our Study Session (whatever the theme is that year), and especially the fraternal warmth of our time together, help allay those post-Christmas blues.

On the theme of Christmas in the context of the liturgical year, here's a wonderful reflection on the meaning of Christmas by Andrew O'Connell in Ireland:

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The Meaning of Christmas (The Irish Catholic, 23rd December 2010)

It happens sometime around six o’clock every Christmas Eve. The Angelus bell rings. The shops close. Everyone goes home. The hustle and bustle ceases. And Christmas finally arrives.

A strange stillness descends on the land and for a few hours there is a peace which we’re not used of. It’s in these rare hours that the meaning of Christmas becomes a little clearer, far removed from tinsel and Toy Shows and the nostalgia of “what’s another year”.

My family lives in the countryside near Tralee. Our tradition on Christmas Eve is to attend the 10 o’clock Mass in our parish church, Our Lady and St. Brendan’s.

We live on a hill which looks out over the countryside of North Kerry. As we drive to Mass the houses in the distance seem to be dancing. From Ballyheigue to Listowel Christmas candles flicker in the windows. They’re placed there as a sign of welcome to the Holy Family should they happen to pass through Kerry this night. Twinkling at us in the skies above as we make our way are the lights of another Kingdom.

The Mass begins and in the packed church we try to comprehend the great mystery of the Incarnation. Tonight, the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.

Nancy Griffith got it all wrong. “God is watching us from a distance,” she sang. He’s not at a distance. He’s here with us.

He’s with us as a baby. It’s a measure of the greatness of God that he can become so small. Later in the Mass he’ll do it again. He will give himself to us in the humble appearance of the host, a small piece of bread.

Bethlehem in Hebrew means “house of bread” and it is here that the Messiah is born. He will say of himself, “I am the bread of life”. So on this Holy Night, in the words of the Great Pope, John Paul II, adoration of the Child Jesus becomes Eucharistic adoration.

We look at the crib. See who has been given front row seats to witness this moment- the shepherds. We’ve always looked on them as avuncular friendly types. But, in the world of their time, shepherds were looked down upon; they were considered untrustworthy. And on this night when man has no room for God in the inn, God finds room for these outcasts in his stable.

We look at Mary. There’s a strange sadness about her, a melancholy. It’s more than the exhaustion of child birth. Tonight she looks as though she has already heard the words of Simeon and seems to know that this child will one day pierce her heart.

Beside her is Joseph. Strong and silent. He reminds me of another Joseph- the man from Arimathea, who will take the thirty three year old Christ from a cross and place him in a tomb.

And in a few months time we’ll be back in this church late at night again. Then it will be to celebrate an empty tomb. This baby in Bethlehem is also the Christ of Calvary.

The crib points to the cross and the cross to the empty tomb of resurrection and new life.

“Born that man no more may die, born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth” rings the third verse of Hark the Herald Angels Sing. And for me, this is the meaning of Christmas. This is why we are joyful tonight. For tonight begins the story that will defeat death.

They say the gates of Heaven are thrown open on Christmas Eve. And so our thoughts wander to our loved ones who are no longer with us. We think of the happier Christmases of other years. And though our hearts are sad they don’t despair since Christ has changed death from a curse to a blessing.

This is the night which captivated us as children and enthralls us now as adults.

On this night, in a stable in Bethlehem, Heaven meets Earth.

And after this night nothing, nothing, is ever the same again.

Downhere: "How Many Kings"

Last year, one of my favourite bands, Canadian Christian group Downhere, released a Christmas album of original songs and reinterpretations of old classic carols. This song is my favourite on the album and I've listened to it (and sung along) a lot this Advent + Christmas. It's a tremendous song with uplifting music and powerful lyrics... and to cap it all, singer Marc Martel doing his usual Freddie Mercury impersonation.

Love this.

Hope you do to.

"How many kings, stepped down from their thrones?
How many lords have abandoned their homes?
How many greats have become the least for me?
How many Gods have poured out their hearts
To romance a world that has torn all apart?
How many fathers gave up their sons for me?
Only one did that for me

All for me
All for you"

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

The Great "O" Antiphons

Here is some information about antiphons that are sung at this time of year in the Divine Office prayers of religious communities (inc. my own) and monasteries around the world Thanks to friend Richard Emblem for the hat tip.

(This sketch of the Seven Antiphons courtesy of Fr. Maurice Gilbert and Sandro Magister of Chiesa.Com) Read more here.

The "O" Antiphons

They're sung one per day, at the Magnificat during vespers from 17 December until the day before Christmas Eve, all of them beginning with an invocation to Jesus, although he is never called by name.

The antiphons are very old, going back to the time of Pope Gregory the Great, around the year 600. They are in Latin, and are inspired by the texts of the Old Testament proclaiming the Messiah. At the beginning of each antiphon, in order, Jesus is invoked as Wisdom, Lord, Root, Key, Star, King, Emmanuel. Read starting from the last, the Latin initials of these words form an acrostic: "Ero cras," meaning: "I will be [there] tomorrow." It is the proclamation of the Lord who comes. The last antiphon, which completes the acrostic, is sung on December 23, and the following day, with first vespers, the feast of the Nativity begins.

Here, then, are the complete texts of the seven antiphons, in Latin and in translation, with highlighting of the initials that form the acrostic "Ero cras," and in parentheses the main references to the Old and New Testament:

I – December 17 O Sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodiisti, attingens a fine usque ad finem fortiter suaviterque disponens omnia: veni ad docendum nos viam prudentiae.

O Wisdom, who come from the mouth of the Most High (Sirach 24:5), you extend to the ends of the earth, and order all things with power and sweetness (Wisdom 8:1): come and teach us the way of wisdom (Proverbs 9:6).

II – December 18 O Adonai, dux domus Israel, qui Moysi in igne flammae rubi apparuisti, et in Sina legem dedisti: veni ad redimendum nos in brachio extenso.

O Lord (Exodus 6:2, Vulgate), leader of the house of Israel, who appeared to Moses in the fire of the burning bush (Exodus 3:2) and on Mount Sinai gave him the law (Exodus 20): come and free us with your powerful arm (Exodus 15:12-13).

III – December 19 O Radix Iesse, qui stas in signum populorum, super quem continebunt reges os suum, quem gentes deprecabuntur: veni ad liberandum nos, iam noli tardare.

O Root of Jesse, who stand as a sign for the peoples (Isaiah 11:10), the kings of the earth are silent before you (Isaiah 52:15) and the nations invoke you: come to free us, do not delay (Habakkuk 2:3).

IV – December 20 O Clavis David et sceptrum domus Israel, qui aperis, et nemo claudit; claudis, et nemo aperit: veni et educ vinctum de domo carceris, sedentem in tenebris et umbra mortis.

O Key of David (Isaiah 22:23), sceptre of the house of Israel (Genesis 49:10), who open and no one may shut; who shut and no one may open: come, free from prison captive man, who lies in darkness and the shadow of death (Psalm 107: 10, 14).

V – December 21 O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae et sol iustitiae: veni et illumina sedentem in tenebris et umbra mortis.

O Star who rises (Zechariah 3:8; Jeremiah 23:5), splendour of the eternal light (Wisdom 7:26) and sun of justice (Malachi 3:20): come and enlighten those who lie in darkness and the shadow of death (Isaiah 9:1; Luke 1:79).

VI – December 22 O Rex gentium et desideratus earum, lapis angularis qui facis utraque unum: veni et salva hominem quem de limo formasti.

O King of the nations (Jeremiah 10:7) and their desire (Haggai 2:7), cornerstone (Isaiah 28:16), who reunite Jews and pagans into one (Ephesians 2:14): come and save the man whom you formed from the earth (Genesis 2:7).

VII – December 23 O Emmanuel, rex et legifer noster, expectatio gentium et salvator earum: veni ad salvandum nos, Dominus Deus noster.

O Emmanuel (Isaiah 7:14), our king and lawgiver (Isaiah 33:22), hope and salvation of the peoples (Genesis 49:10; John 4:42): come to save us, O Lord our God (Isaiah 37:20).

The journal in which the article by Fr. Maurice Gilbert, "The great Advent antiphons," was published is La Civiltà Cattolica. English translation by Matthew Sherry, Saint Louis, Missouri, U.S.A.

"Of Gods And Men" ("Des Hommes Et Des Dieux")

I at last saw this remarkable film this evening. It is set in and around a real-life French-founded Catholic Cistercian monastery in the Algerian Atlas mountains. It tells the story of 8 monks who lived there and events that took place during the winter of 1996. This was while I was studying in Paris and I remember all too well the news breaking.

MILD SPOILER ALERT (I don't give away much, to be honest)

Having heard all about the film from French confrères over the past few months and having read reviews and French magazine articles interviewing the cast (who all said what a profound effect the making of the film had had on them), I braced for disappointment. And, to be fair, during the predominantly wordless opening 15 mins. which slowly built up a feel for the characters and for their way of life, I feared that it had all been much ado about nothing. Wordless... well, almost. We hear and see the monks in prayer singing the Divine Office, and it is the actors themselves who do the singing live on set (no overdubbing). And a fine job they do too. In fact, this is the only "soundtrack" music in the whole film. It is this attention to detail that started to win me over. The film is painstaking, but not overly forced, in its attempt to reach a level of authenticity in its representation of the life of the monks in their monastic community

Gradually the drama kicks in. We start to hear snippets of conversation between the monks, we see them interact with local villagers who depend heavily on the monks in many ways (especially for medical care), we see glimpses of Islamic terrorists and their actions, we witness the violent murder of Croat workers... but most importantly we eavesdrop on the monks as they debate whether they should stay or whether they should flee the ever escalating violence. As a member of a religious community myself, I could very much empathise with the soul-searching that the monks undertook and also with the rationale behind their final decision.

The cast do a tremendous job throughout without ever trying to seem "saintly". These were simply men who had been attracted by a "greater love" (as one character says in a touching conversation about love with a young local woman) than that which can come through human relationships. The film seems to have borrowed a few ideas from the wonderful documentary from a few years ago, "Into Great Silence", about a year in the life of a Carthusian monastery, La Grande Chartreuse, high up in the French Alps. In particular the film's use of close-ups of the monks' faces that seem to give us glimpses into their souls and through which we see all at once the very believable simultaneous mixture of fear, love, trust, deep peace and the mutual bond that grows ever stronger as their lives become ever more threatened.

There are many scenes that moved me to tears and will haunt me for a very long time (in fact I spent most of the 2nd half of the film with tears about to fall), none more so than when the monks hear a helicopter approach overhead whilst they are in silent prayer in their chapel: the Abbot (the elected leader or "shepherd" of the monastery) stands and begins to intone a hymn. The other monks join him and put their arms around each other's shoulders in a sign of mutual love and support, but also of defiance.

As I have been writing this, the words of a song by Switchfoot came to me. I think they suit very well the scene I have just described and what the monks go through in the last part of the film:

Switchfoot: "Sing It Out"

I'm on the run
I'm on the ropes this time
Where is my song?
I've lost the song of my soul tonight

Sing it out
Sing it out
Take what is left of me
Make it a melody
Sing it out
Sing out loud
I can't find the words to sing
You'd be my remedy
My song, my song
I'll sing with what's left of me

Where is the sun?
Feel like a ghost this time
Where have you gone?
I need your breath in my lungs tonight

Sing it out
Sing it out
Take what is left of me
Make it a melody
Sing it out
Sing out loud
I can't find the words to sing
You'd be my remedy
My song, my song
I'll sing with what's left of me

I'm holding on
I'm holding on to you
My world is wrong
My world is a lie that's come true
And I fall in love with the ones that run me through
When all along, all I need is you

Sing it out
Sing it out
Take what is left of me
Make it a melody
Sing it out
Sing out loud
I can't find the words to sing
Come be my remedy
My song, my song
My song
I'll sing with what's left of me

..... I love these words: "I can't find the words to sing
Come be my remedy
My song, my song
My song
I'll sing with what's left of me"

Whenever I hear this song I will think of that scene and those monks. This line: "And I fall in love with the ones that run me through". These men of God had indeed fallen in love with Algeria and the local people whom they served. It had become their home and the people there had become their brothers and sisters. But the local people themselves became victims of the extremists who were at war with the Government. The film pointedly distinguishes between these Muslims villagers and the Islamic extremists who "kill their brothers".

I'm taking Fr. Andrew to see the film on Tues. I may well go back and see it a third time if I can.

Here are 2 images of the real-life monks of Tibhirine monastery.

See below for further info:
http://www.sonyclassics.com/ofgodsandmen/
http://bit.ly/hf2URK

Advent and associated events

This is the busiest time of year for Music teachers and probably for teachers in general. In my case as Head of Music it means organising and leading an Advent Festival concert which took place on Dec. 7th (a mixture of religious + secular music + readings performed by an assortment of Choir, Orchestra, rock bands, soloists, etc...) and our official Carol Service (Choir, Orch. + vocal soloists) next Monday.

When you factor in all the rehearsal time for these events, the end of term exams that require marking and then the individual pupil reports, that makes for a very busy + hectic few weeks

Add to that a bout of heavy 'flu that left me in bed for 3 days last week and a cold that has taken 2 weeks to shake off, you can understand how I now feel rather zombified. I'm hoping and praying that Christmas, the trip to Brittany for our annual post-Christmas study session and the few extra days break I will have in France will help me recharge what are very run down batteries.

Really looking forward to getting on my bike and going for my first club cycle in 3 weeks.

Ouf!! (as they say in French)

Fr. Andrew McMahon ofm: friend + film companion

(See previous article)... It didn't take long before I was recommending films to Fr. Andrew and taking him to the cinema to see them, after which we would discuss them over a pint and a bite to eat. He seems genuinely grateful that someone such as myself would want to take the time to open his mind up to new cinematic treats (just don't mention "Inception" or science fiction to him!! ;-) And it wasn't long before he was phoning me up with the latest tale of woe over his computer and asking me to bail him out, which, of course, I gladly agreed to do, in return for food and drink!

Bumping into him at work during our pupils' day retreats at Park Place

Last March, he invited me to do a party piece (a couple of Irish drinking songs + a bit on the clarinet) at the Friends of Park Place St. Patrick's Night, amongst a variety of "turns" that included Irish dancing, song, recitation, instrumental music... I also joined Andrew and a longtime friend of his for a rendition of "The Irish Rover". Later that evening I ended up getting booked to do a paid gig singing + playing guitar at someone's 70th birthday party in Portsmouth which ended up being a nice little earner!

At the St. Patrick's Day event, just after we'd sung "The Irish Rover".

He celebrates Mass every Sunday at Park Place, and though it is not a Parish as such, people come from miles around to hear him preach. Through him, I have got to know former musician friends of my Dad from the area (his folk band for which he played drums) and also made new friends - for example, at his 75th birthday meal the other week. He had been speaking to some of those who come to his Mass about the films we would watch and discuss. One such person asked me if I would be willing to start a Film Club at Park Place, as many people who go there would be very interested in such a venture.

I had developed an interest in films myself by attending option courses in film appreciation at Centre Sèvres in Paris (the home of the "Ciné-club") and joining 2 Parisian Ciné-clubs during my 4 years studying Theology + Philosophy there in the '90s (the courses + clubs run by the same retired French film critic, Jean Collet, who himself became a firm friend of mine). This led to me teaching A-Level Film Studies in Liverpool for 8 years and now teaching GCSE Film Studies for the first time here in Southampton. So, to be asked to run a monthly film club myself I considered to be rather an honour. We are having a preliminary meeting with the interested parties before Christmas, to make sure that my choices of films are appropriate for the clientele, amongst other things, and then look to have our first gathering in the New Year. A few of my pupils are hoping to get involved too, which would be great.

A couple of weeks before Easter I intend to bring our school Choir, Orchestra, rock bands, ensembles and soloists to perform a charity concert at Park Place to raise money for the Indian sisters' missions and for my congregations schools in Haiti.

As you can see, bumping into him during the day retreats has enriched my life in unforeseen ways, on top of finding a loyal, affectionate spiritual guide and friend.

Fr. Andrew in our primary school, Charlton House, together with one of the Park Place sisters who had come to perform traditional Indian dance for the pupils.

He is someone who can count people like Lawrie McMenemy (most famous and revered Saints manager - with the possible exception of Ted Bates - of all time) and Matt Le Tissier (most famous and revered Saints player of all time without exception - and occasional England international... Glen Hoddle, hang your head in shame!!!) as close friends, but who treats each person he meets as being of equal worth and dignity.

He has green fingers and a typically Franciscan love of and reverence for nature, a wicked sense of deadpan humour (very "pince-sans-rire" as the French would say), a cuddly old sheepdog named Laddie, an iPod Touch (mainly for listening to spoken word cds which he gets me to transfer onto the iPod for him), a tv aerial that annoyingly plays up just as a goal is about to be scored when you are trying to watch Europa League games between Liverpool and whoever, and most importantly a deep, I would say Christ-like, pastoral sensitivity which draws people to him.

Thank you for everything, Andrew. Do you want to see a film next week?

Free will + determinism: God's Divine Providence and finding a new spiritual guide

Oh the joys of enforced school closure due to heavy snow! I can now do a little blogging :-)

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When I transferred from our Liverpool community to our Southampton one (in my home town, attached to my old school) 18 months ago, I had as a priority the desire + need to seek out someone whom I felt would be the right kind of spiritual "guide" for me, someone who would also be a friend and with whom I would therefore feel very comfortable talking about the "difficult stuff" of life.

I hesitate to use the word "director" because nowadays many spiritual "directors" seem to dislike the term themselves as suggesting too much of a uni-directional relationship. The French talk of "un accompagnateur spirituel", a spiritual "accompanist" and I think this term suits far better the role itself.

So. how was I to find such a person? Well, that's just the point... I felt it wasn't really up to me. I was convinced that it was God's will that I change communities and that in going back to my home town I was going where he wanted me to be at that time. So, I kind of saw it as his problem, not mine. But, in reality, the individual still has a big part to play in such a process.

A fellow blogger points out how 2 spiritual heavyweights of the past spoke about this creative tension (if I may describe it as such) between depending on God's Providence and human responsibility/free thought/free action:

'In the fifth century St. Augustine wrote the following, “Work as if everything depends on you and pray as if everything depends on God.” Sounds like a typical message from the saints: direct, clear, yet all too conspicuously religious. However, St. Ignatius throws a monkey wrench into St. Augustine’s well calibrated machine when he switches it around, saying, “Work as if everything depends on God, and pray as if everything depends on you.”'

Either way, there is a paradox here that fans of the debate on freewill + determinism (oh I loved teaching that in 6th Form R.E.!) would find fascinating. One cannot just sit back and wait for things to happen, one has to engage the mind, the discerning will, one's own energies and actions, but at the same time depend - in prayer and abandonment to God - on God guiding your spirit to do the right thing at the right time, to be in the right place at the right time.

The fact that I have been lucky enough to feel God's guiding hand in this way on numerous occasions since my teenage years helps me to generally find it something that I can allow to happen. In the case of the need for a new spiritual guide, I decided to try and be proactive: I went to a few different parish churches for Mass over the first few weeks, I listened to people speaking about local clergy (my preference was for a priest simply because of wanting to kill 2 birds with one stone in terms of also being able to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation - though in reality the 2 roles have since been fulfilled by 2 different people).

No obvious signs from God in those early days and weeks, so I let things ride... things would happen in their own time, I felt (God's time is not our time). Then, by the end of September it came time to start organising day retreats, one class at a time, at a nearby by diocesan spiritual centre, Park Place, run by a community of mainly Indian nuns. As acting Head of R.E. for a year (during a maternity leave) I ran the days with the much appreciated assistance of our school Chaplain, Fr. Michael.

On a number of occasions during these retreats in the autumn term, I bumped into the centre's live-in Chaplain Fr. Andrew McMahon ofm (a 74 year-old Franciscan friar - now 75). I had known of Fr. Andrew for many years, in fact since my teens and the sponsored 10 km runs that I used to take part in organised by the charity that he founded and directed, the St. Dismas Society, that ran homes for ex-criminals and other social "outcasts". I had always had the greatest of admiration for him and his work, but had only ever spoken to him very briefly during the odd recollection day that me and my fellow Brothers had in the centre over the years, for example our Christmas recollection day (we take turns in going to each others' communities each year for Christmas - Liverpool + Southampton).

During these encounters at Park Place last autumn, I was surprised and pleased that he actually seemed to remember me or know of me (maybe it was just politeness on his part). It quickly became apparent in my heart that this was a person with whom I would be most comfortable talking about the deepest issues and with whom I also had some shared interests: sport (especially football, he was Chaplain to Southampton F.C. during the glory years of the '70s + '80s), film, the arts in general (he is a painter and sculptor).

And so one day I asked him if I could come round sometime for a chat and whether, in the long term, he might consider becoming my spiritual "director"? He seemed quite happy with the idea, but rejected the notion of being a "director", preferring to be considered rather as a friend. This felt more and more right for me and I did indeed feel as if God was guiding me to him...

To cut a long story short, we have indeed become firm friends over the past year and a bit.... see next article for more on Fr. Andrew.

"Of Gods And Men" - articles

If you needed any further reasons to go and see this film, read these two articles, especially the second one:

O brother, we're arthouse: the monks taking France by storm | Film | guardian.co.uk

Of Gods and Men – review | Film | The Guardian

"Severe, austere and deeply moving, Xavier Beauvois's film about monks threatened by fundamentalists is one of the year's highlights, says Peter Bradshaw."