Our parish business manager shared this photo with me as an explanation for arriving late to work earlier this week. I was surprised to learn that the cat survived this unfortunate incident. It did remind me, however, that one does not know the day nor the hour.

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me, three french hens. 

And so on this third day of Christmas we turn ourselves to poultry (Yes, I know most of you are celebrating the fourth day of Christmas–I got a late start and figured Epiphany can be day 12). Symbolically these three ladies represent the three men pictured below, who were from a region further East than France.

The Magi show up later than the others who came to show there respect to the newborn king. They brought gifts that shed light on who Christ is and what his destiny will be.

The first gift is gold which signifies that Christ is the true king.

Born a king on Bethlehem’s plain. Gold I bring to crown him again. King forever, ceasing never. Over us all to reign. 

The second gift is frankincense which signifies that Christ is the true God.

Frankincense to offer have I. Incense owns a Deity nigh. Prayer and praising all men raising. Worship Him God most high.

The third and last gift is myrrh which signifies that Christ is marked for death.

Myrrh is mine, its bitter perfume. Breathes a life of gathering gloom. Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying. Sealed in the stone-cold tomb. 

It was not until my college years that I heard this third verse of the song We Three Kings, and as a result went on to learn that myrrh is a burial spice. Myrrh or some other fragrant perfume is mixed into Sacred Chrism which is used for the sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation and Holy Orders. The anointing with Chrism is meant to remind us that we have been baptized into the death of Christ.

As we celebrate another day of Christmas may we be reminded of the gifts we have received from the Lord. May we return to him more than what we have received.

Eye has not seen nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him. (1 Corinthians 2:9)

This morning at St. Thomas we gather to celebrate the life of Frank Cleary. I first remember meeting Frank at one of our parish finance board meetings. It quickly became apparent that Frank had a sharp mind, one that liked to analyze things and break them down into much more detail than I could imagine possible. He also liked to ask questions, prying deeper into what was put before him until it was more clear both for himself, and for the rest of us gathered.  The most memorable thing about meeting Frank that day, however, was his smile and the laughter that easily flowed from him. His presence, even at something as mundane as a finance board meeting, seemed to always make things seem more joyful.

It wasn’t too long before I learned that Frank had been battling cancer for many years. He had been through a number of treatments and continued carry the burden that comes with sickness, but he did so with the same joyful spirit that I witnessed at our first meeting. When I spoke with his wife recently, as it became clear that Frank was nearing the end of his life with us, I told her that Frank had to be one of the most positive people I have ever met. I will miss his example of what it means to humbly take up the cross and follow Christ in a spirit of thanksgiving.

The Baltimore Catechism answers the question, “Why did God make us?” with the statement, “God made us to show forth His goodness and to share with us His everlasting happiness in heaven.”

God has certainly showed forth His goodness to me in giving me the opportunity to meet Frank. I expect that Frank will be happy knowing that he now has the opporunity to ask God an infinite number of questions about the details of the universe so as to have a full understanding of heaven’s balance sheet.

Whenever Christ calls us, his call leads us to death. —Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Yesterday we celebrated the feast of Saints Cornelius and Cyprian. They are two of the early Church martyrs, one a Pope and both Bishops who helped the Church withstand the errors of Novatian who held that those who had denied the faith during earlier persecutions could not be reconciled to the Church. One of the things that I found interesting in reading about these two saints was this bit of trivia on the numbers of the Church of Rome during the middle of the third century when Cornelius and Cyprian lived. The Church of Rome in the mid-third century had 46 priests, seven deacons, seven subdeacons and about 50,000 total members of the faithful. Those numbers are not that different than the Church of Knoxville, where I serve.

As we were celebrating a feast of two early martyrs, and particularly because these two saints are commemorated in the Roman Canon, this is the Eucharist Prayer I chose for the mass. Something struck me during the prayer that I had never really paid close attention to. These words seemed to jump off the page at me:

For ourselves, too, we ask some share in the fellowship of your apostles and martyrs, with John the Baptist, Stephen, Matthias, Barnabas, Ignatius, Alexander, Marcellinus, Peter, Felicity, Perpetua, Agatha, Lucy, Agnes, Cecilia, Anastasia and all the saints.

In the early Church, it was pretty rare for someone to become a saint who had not died some sort of horrific death. The good news for those who sought after sainthood is that there were plenty of persecutions to go around. The thing that stood out for me in the prayer that we use so often is the fact that we are asking to share fellowship with the martyrs, meaning we are asking God for suffering and ultimately we are asking to die. This shouldn’t surprise us, as our life as Christians requires taking up the Cross of Christ, but I wonder how many of us, like myself, fail to hear what it is we are praying each week for the simple reason of being too familiar with the words of the prayers. Perhaps one of the blessings that will come with the implementation of the new Roman missal will be an opportunity for Catholics to hear the prayers anew and to let their meaning be heard in our hearts again so that we may more readily follow Christ through death to eternal life.

This week I am happy that St. Thomas is hosting a week long iconography workshop. The fifteen participants will be spending the week in prayer, learning and writing the icon of Our Lady of the Sign. The Theotokos Oranta, as it is sometimes called, portrays Mary in a praying position with Christ seen in the center of the image, enclosed in her womb. I learned this morning that this icon is called “the Sign” in reference to the words of the prophet Isaiah when he proclaimed,

The Lord himself shall give you a sign. Behold a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and his name shall be called Emmanuel. –Isaiah 7:14

This icon also recalls the fact that because Mary bore Christ in her womb, the creator of all that is, she has become more spacious than the heavens.

Each time I set out to write an icon, something different strikes me as important. It is especially helpful when one has a good teacher who realizes that a workshop like this is primarily about the process of theosis in the Christian life that is merely expressed through the writing of a holy image. This morning I was struck by our teacher’s description of the linen cloth that is glued upon the board that the image is placed. Under the layers of gesso is a cloth that should remind Christians of a shroud or veil. Shrouds remind us of death. Today our teacher reminded us that the Christian are called to always keep death before ourselves as it reminds us to make wise choices. We are also called to be people who are dead to sin, so that we can live more fully in the new life Christ has given to us.

I hope to keep checking in this week as we continue to pray these icons into being, while becoming more true to the image of God contained in each of us.

This Sabbath Sunday I am choosing to share a post from last Christmas centered on the gifts of the magi in honor of the celebration of Epiphany. The post is entitled, Myrrh is mine, it’s bitter perfume….

Once again you are invited to join me in promoting the Sabbath by taking a break from your normal blogging.  Please share an older post from your blog that is near and dear to your heart. Make sure to leave your name and the URL of your post below and share a comment if you so desire. I look forward to reading your recycled posts!

Soon after hearing the reflection, I shared it with a friend who had just experienced a miscarriage and ordered the book by Jenny Schroedel to read. I am still getting around to the book in my never ending to-be-read stack, but the website has been a blessing to me.

You can find a link to Naming the Child in my list of  ”sites to see” and you can listen to Molly’s letter by clicking on the link below.

Letter to Lucy