FR EDWARD SCHILLEBEECKX OP has died.  In 1974 he dedicated his monumental JESUS – An Experiment in Christology “to all my readers, known and unknown – and especially Bernard Cardinal Alfrink, ‘That you may not grieve as others do who have no hope’ (1 Thessalonians 4.13).

I thank God for “The Schillebeeckx Preface” we use frequently in our Eucharistic celebrations here:

Lord God, we thank you for Jesus, the truly human being, who has changed the face of the earth, because he spoke of a great vision, of God’s new age which will come one day, a world of freedom, love and peace, the perfection of your creation. We remember that wherever Jesus came people rediscovered their humanity, and were filled with new riches, so that they could give one another new courage in their lives. We remember how Jesus spoke to people, about a lost coin, a sheep that had strayed, a prodigal son: of all those who no longer count, out of sight, out of mind; the weak and the poor, all those who are captive, unknown, unloved. We recall that he went to search for all who were lost, for those who are saddened and out in the cold, and how he always took their side, without forgetting the others. That cost him his life because the mighty of the earth would not tolerate it, and yet he knew that he was understood and accepted by you, confirmed by you in love. He became one with you. And so, freed from himself, he could live a life of liberation for others. And so we gladly thank you, with saints and angels praising you, and saying: Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might, heaven and earth are full of your glory. Hosanna in the highest. Blessed + is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest.

“God is always absolutely new”, Fr Schillebeeckx said, of the One who makes all things new. Indeed He / he spoke of a great vision. Requiescat in pace.

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I LOVE THIS LITTLE SPACE each year. A quiet waiting before crossing the garden for the Midnight Mass. The preparations have been made. Now to celebrate the Feast and thank God. We’ve celebrated services already today in company with several hundred people of all ages. Snow and ice have not prevailed. It has been a joy to meet with the newly-weds of the past few years, and with the baptised – babes in arms only moments ago, and somehow already turned into enthusiastic and ultra-mobile toddlers.

From earliest childhood, I recall, Christmas Eve was always a night when my ears were most particularly attuned to LISTENING … so the Mass tonight will be preceded by William Stafford’s evocative poem of that name:

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My father could hear a little animal step,
or a moth in the dark against the screen,
and every far sound called the listening out
into places where the rest of us had never been.

More spoke to him from the soft wild night
than came to our porch for us on the wind;
we would watch him look up and his face go keen
till the walls of the world flared, widened.

My father heard so much that we still stand
inviting the quiet by turning the face,
waiting for a time when something in the night
will touch us too from that other place.

William Stafford

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JOY TO YOU TONIGHT. Together with Peace in your listening. xx

more about “SNOWY ST MICHAEL“, posted with vodpod

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IT SEEMS THAT SKY & SNOW HAVE CONSPIRED together today to show off the newly restored and renovated east wall at St Michael’s Bramhall. My childhood dreams of Christmas holidays involved snow like we’ve seen in the last few days (with adult apologies to all those who can’t stand the stuff, and many of them with good reason). A favourite rom/com at this time of the year is The Holiday (Cameron Diaz, Jack Black, Kate Winslet and Jude Law) with its Christmassy romance, cottages, frost, snow, and fabulously haunting Ennio Morricone. So a few snaps and a touch of Morricone (courtesy of You Tube’s Audio Swap). Enjoy :)

more about “GREYSTOKE CHRISTMAS “009“, posted with vodpod

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THERE’S A HOPE WELLING UP in the carol singing I’ve been hearing this year. Young, old and middle-aged. Close your eyes and hear the nightingales, and the shufflers, and the enthusiasts, and the coughers, and the shy guys and those who can’t sing for toffee. And ordinariness resolves into music, cacophany into epiphany, strength into tenderness, despair into hope, hearing into praying, mourning into dancing, indifference into a wider-eyed love. “Shepherds” and “kings” alike are no longer embarrassed to offer their hopes and their gifts in an altogether transformed environment.

And Isaiah rang with a reminder call: for the mountains may depart, the hills be shaken, but my love for you will never leave you and my covenant of peace will never be shaken. And I’m glad of the reminder, albeit that I try, anyway, never to forget that which I most believe about God; that his covenant of peace shall never be shaken. (Isaiah 54.10)

All of which I hang on to as I’m quietened before yesterday’s front-page photo of another host of young fellows jumping down from their miltary transport plane onto the shifting sands of Afghanistan. I’m not much given to being away from home at the best of times. Trained or not, pre-Christmas farewells when you’re stepping out into dusty unknown can hardly be the best of times for any of them … or their loved ones left behind. Let me close my eyes and breathe awhile with Seamus Heaney:

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History says, Don’t hope
On this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up,
And hope and history rhyme.

So hope for a great sea-change
On the far side of revenge.
Believe that a farther shore
Is reachable from here.
Believe in miracles
And cures and healing wells.

Call the miracle self-healing:
The utter self-revealing
double-take of feeling.

If there’s fire on the mountain
Or lightning and storm
And a god speaks from the sky
That means someone is hearing
the outcry and the birth-cry
of new life at its term.

From “The Cure at Troy”

A HOST OF OUR ACTIVE ANGELS, many of them 3 years old, descended upon St Michael’s yesterday, “for a boy was born” and “the bells of heaven rang for him”. The singing was great. 3 year old Benjamin tolled our single bell and Santa showed up as well.

Tonight it was the turn of one of our local primary schools. They’d opted for an ambitious Christmas musical account and things mustn’t half have have moved on since I was at primary. Younger and older children alike joined in with marvellously remembered words and music. Hat tip to the teaching ‘Active Angels’ who, on both occasions, had gone more than the extra mile. The labours of children and teachers alike were very much appreciated.

TODAY WE ARE ENCOURAGED to take the waiting out of wanting, cut to the chase and get what we want right away, as though there is nothing worth waiting for. This Advent book dares to defy all that. So says Archbishop Sentamu of Paula Gooder’s The Meaning is in the Waiting. Of John the Baptist, Paula Gooder writes

 

John’s waiting is about transformation that actively prepares for the person or event for which one waits and so helps to bring it about

 

This is the sort of waiting that we need in our parish’s Growth Action Planning. No good being too quick to ‘cut to the chase’. God’s angels are perpetually prepared to bear God’s message to the world,  they don’t start by publishing action plans of their own. We’ve been discovering afresh that we want to put more of ourselves into ’seeking what God wants’. May there be waiting, then, with the wanting, so that we help to bring it about. And whilst we’re waiting it’ll be worth keeping in mind what we’ve already heard: ‘Do not be afraid. I bring you tidings of great joy for you and all the peoples …’

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TENDER MOMENTS today and

Swift and true

High soaring flight

We and you and an old friend

And Winnie the Pooh

Parent and child

Adventuring on lines and squares

Wordsmith wedded

Patient and warm and wry

Sunlight and sky

Lebanese mystic wrote

Don’t fear to die

Hush then

We made them again

We and you

Recollections

Tender moments today and

Swift and true

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Lines and Squares :: On Death

SRM – for A & J and we and you

POOR PLANTED BULBS

Beneath breathtaking frost in

Bed

“Ah, but only till Spring” -

Sharp intake of breath -

I’m perfectly certain you said …

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