New Year House Blessing

In doing some reading about the Feast of the Epiphany, I like to encourage a custom of unknown origin that is often mentioned in connection with this day of celebration: the blessing and chalking of the house. Many versions of the ceremony that I’ve come across include these elements.

The reciting of a blessing upon the house (or other dwelling) and those who inhabit it.

The blessing of a piece of chalk that is then used to write a formula above the entry of the house. The formula incorporates the current year with the initials of the wise men (whose names are not recorded in scripture but were given by tradition as Caspar [or Gaspar], Melchior, and Balthasar). This coming Epiphany, it would be written this way:

20 + C + M + B + 11

Some folks note that “C M B” can also stand for “Christus Mansionem Benedicat,” which means “May Christ bless this dwelling.”) This chalking is followed by the sprinkling of the door with holy water.

Like the Magi who brought their gifts to the dwelling place of Jesus, I invite you to imagine the coming year as a house—a space in time that is opening itself to all of us. How will we inhabit the coming year? How will we enter it with mindfulness and with intention? How will we move through the rooms of the coming months in a way that brings blessing to this world?

With these questions in mind, I offer this blessing for you.

The Year as a House: A Blessing

Think of the year as a house: door flung wide in welcome, threshold swept and waiting,
a graced spaciousness opening and offering itself to you.

Let it be blessed in every room. Let it be hallowed in every corner. Let every nook be a refuge and every object set to holy use.

Let it be here that safety will rest. Let it be here that health will make its home. Let it be here that peace will show its face. Let it be here that love will find its way.

Here let the weary come let the aching come let the lost come let the sorrowing come.

Here let them find their rest and let them find their soothing and let them find their place
and let them find their delight.

And may it be in this house of a year that the seasons will spin in beauty, and may it be
in these turning days that time will spiral with joy. And may it be that its rooms will fill
with ordinary grace and light spill from every window to welcome the stranger home.

Immanuel watches over us as we reflect: "How lovely is your dwelling place, Lord Almighty.” (Psalm 84:1).

Lord I pray for all my Sonshine Friends that their homes may be a welcoming place for family and strangers. Wherever you make your home, may it be blessed, and may you enter this Epiphany and the coming year in peace.

Imagine

The good news for this week is that the world is changed and saved when God the Son comes down here. “Immanuel, which means, ‘God with us.”

Yes, that’s it.

God with us.

God with us in all our flesh-and-blood complaints and messiness. “Christ among the pots and pans” as Teresa of Avila put it. Christ among the barn animals, our dogs and kitties, our horses and cows, and then those quirky magi astrologers and then all the rest of the Gospel’s curious cast of characters.

God with us.

God with the prostitutes and the lepers and the outcast in whose company Jesus would delight again and again. God at the dinner table with a chive stuck between his incisors. God lifting the cup of wine to his lips.

God with us.

God with the little children whose warm brows he touched and blessed. God smiling when a baby was shown to him by a proud new mother. God with us in all our ordinary times and days. God with us, as Jesus would say to bookend Matthew’s gospel, even unto the end of the ages.

Always. With us. Immanuel.

Immanuel is God-with-us in the cancer clinic and at the local nursing home where bodies slump pitifully in wheelchairs pushed up against the hallway walls. Immanuel is God-with-us when the pink slip comes and when the beloved child sneers, "I hate you!"

Immanuel is God-with-us when you pack the Christmas decorations away and, with an aching heart, you realize afresh that your one child never did call over the holidays. Not once.

Immanuel is God-with-us when your dear wife or mother stares at you with an Alzheimer's glaze and absently asks, "What was your name again, dear?"

Ever and always Jesus stares straight into you with his two good eyes and he does so not only when you can smile back but most certainly also when your own eyes are full of tears. In fact, Jesus is Immanuel, "God with you" even in those times when you are so angry with God that you refuse to meet his eyes. But even when you feel like you can't look at him, he never looks away from you. He can't. His name says it all.

Immanuel watches over us as we reflect: "For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." (Isaiah 9:6).

Lord I pray for all my Sonshine Friends that on Christmas Day we may know that you have come, just as promised. My Christmas blessings to all of you for your prayers and support throughout the year. May Immanuel bring you peace and joy.

Stop Your Complaining

I’m walking into a cable company store to drop off my router and cancel my account. Inside the door, this company has a sign that tells you to press a button, take a ticket and wait.

Waiting for customer service is not one of my strengths. It ranks as “very annoying” and high on my list of complaints. At the counter are five stations in which only three have someone waiting on customers. I notice when one customer had finished, the agent started to mark some papers instead of calling the next number. More waiting. Being ignored also ranks high on my list of complaints. Now only two reps are waiting on customers. Suddenly from the back room, an agent appears at the counter and calls a number. Unfortunately, the other agent leaves her station and we’re back to two servers. Put this compliant on my list. Whenever customer service puts you on hold or worse the phone line gets disconnected—now that’s really annoying.

We are a nation of complainers. Being inconvenienced really stretches our endurance, our patience and respect for people. We need to give ourselves a little pep talk, and tell ourselves that there are far worse injustices being perpetuated around the world, and calmly calm ourselves down. We need to get back into our cars and cool off.

As a photographer, did you ever notice the difference in colors between Advent and Lent. The crimson-purple of advent is not the black-purple of lent. The former symbolizes yearning and longing, the latter repentance. The spirituality of advent is not about repentance, but about carrying tension without prematurely resolving it so that what’s born in us and in our world does not short-circuit the fullness that comes from respecting love’s rhythms.

The crimson-purple is about waiting and how well we hold up in situations not in our control. We look forward to the birth of the Savior, but there’s a tension and pain and lessons to be learned in the waiting period. To reach the sublime moment of Christmas peace, we need to surrender our petty annoyances that reflect our intolerance and criticism of people.

What helps change this selfish attitude is precisely the tension in our lives. In carrying properly our unfulfilled desires we sizzle and slowly let go of the dampness of selfishness. In carrying tension we come to kindling temperature and are made ready for love. Sizzling in tension, not resolving things prematurely. The sublime has to be waited for. Only when there is first enough heat will there be unity. To give birth to what’s divine requires the slow patience of gestation.

Think of how long God has waited for us to come away from our thoughtless, selfish complaints and embraced a spirit that oozes with empathy and forgiveness for customer service folks required to work on holidays and 3am in the morning.

Advent gives us another chance to learn to better handle those waiting moments in our life. When we realize that we have nothing to complain about, we focus our energy on being more compassionate people.

Jesus watches over us as we reflect: “Those who are wayward in spirit will gain understanding; those who complain will accept instruction.”(Isaiah 29:24).

Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends who have been routed to the far corners of the earth. May our time on hold make us a better people and respond when service comes back online, “thanks for you time, you’re the best.”