Living in this part of the country we see the distinct movement of seasons - from fall with its brilliant colors to winter with snow and ice to spring and the re-emergence of new live, to summer and garden growth. Many of the birds follow the seasons migrating to warmer weather in the fall and back again in spring. Gone are the orioles, Eastern bluebirds, and hummingbirds and now the frequent visitors to the feeders and suet cages in our yard are the woodpeckers and chickadees. We have long grown accustomed to the definite rhythm of seasons in this corner of the world and it all makes sense to us.
These few weeks of the year when it comes to celebrations in the church (particularly the Catholic church) I've long been perplexed about the out of sync designated Sunday gospel readings. First on Christmas, of course, we celebrate and rejoice in the wonder of the Incarnation - the breaking into the world of the Sacred in human form; the Word made flesh. This Sunday, all of a sudden, our gospel reading tells us of a time when Jesus was twelve years old. And then next weekend the gospel takes us backward in time to the story of the Magi when Jesus was an infant again. My thoughts return again and again to the opening line in chapter three of Ecclesiastes: "There is an appointed time for everything, and a time for every affair under the heavens" and the lingering question becomes: how does the movement of our gospel readings over these three church-designated celebrations make sense?
Whether or not it all makes sense to our twenty-first century minds, the message of the season remains clear: The Sacred One came to dwell among us, each of us is a child of our Holy Creator and we all have been blessed with gifts and talents meant to be graciously shared. And...we are so deeply and abundantly and unconditionally loved by the Holy One. Now that something to celebrate!
Peace on the Journey.
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