O Key of David: A meditation on the fourth of the Great O Antiphons of Advent

O Key of David!

Opener of the way between the worlds
Come and open our tight locked hearts!
O you who make of your very self
both the door and the key
make straight our path to you this night
and from the long winding of the ages
order us aright and
set our feet upon the way of peace
who long since left the path,
and stumble blind in darkness
of our own making!

O Key of David!

You who unlock the ancient temple treasury of Israel
come and liberate its golden light
to illumine the darkness of the whole world!
Open the minds
of all who seek truth and beauty
to find their source and summit
in your mangered birth.
Temper our being,
O Sceptered smith
of the heavens
by the hammer
of your divinity
until we are fit vessels for your sacred meal,
tabernacles of your spirit,
alloys rendered pure again
and fit for the King’s own
birthday feast.

O Key of David!

Open the long barred doors of Heaven as you descend!
Claim again the authority of divinity over humanity,
and humanity in divinity over creation.
Release the locks of longing
holding the doors of limbo shut
and quicken again the hearts
of patriarchs and prophets,
of the ancient fathers and mothers
of all times and places
who have kept faith with the promise
of a freedom scarce imagined,
yet desired of all the ages.

O Key of David!

Unlock in us the song of heaven
that sin strangled into silence
so long ago!
Let ours be the song
of the Woman
whose faith drew you down
upon the earth
she, the thrice holy one,
in whom the gift of grace
shone so bright
that even the shadow of
death
was put to flight,
and you who are
life unbounded
and eternal,
key and door both,
dwelt sealed in her
three seasons long,
so as to unlock for all
and forever
the way to
the eternal
Spring.

"O Key of David and sceptre of the House of Israel;
you open and no one can shut;
you shut and no one can open:
Come and lead the prisoners from the prison house,
those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death!"

O Radix Jesse! A meditation on the third of the Great O Antiphons of Advent:

O Radix Jesse, O Root of Jesse!

We cry out to you O Root from which all springs,

first fecundity of the Divine!

Come and restore our fruitfulness so long shrivelled and sin wintered!

For we, obsessed only

with the flower that blooms

and is gone so quickly,

spill our tears upon the soiled surface

of the fading petal

and forget the virtue of the root!

O Root of Jesse!

Help us lest we forget that strong growth,

must come from a strong stock,

to know a flower that would

outlast the frost

must come from deep roots,

long buried,

and anchored in

the warm womb

of Mother Earth

resting down the long

ages in the divine dark!

O Root of Jesse!

Speak to us of Spring!

Of that new life you bring,

a quickening felt through all creation,

a gospeled spark,

begun in the deep pulse of a seed

now planted

in that gateless garden

so long prepared!

O Root of Jesse!

You are the point of origin

where all begins,

where from eternity time blooms;

where then comes forth from

Now;

until that sprouting moment

where all begins in you anew!

Save us for your harvest of hope!

O Root of Jesse!

Mixing your luminous seed

with the deep humus

of our muddied being

you bring forth new life!

Heal us

and raise us from our barren sleep

of sin and self

inviting us to bloom again

as first intended and

yet more so than even this

for now,

our roots entwined,

grafted to your Divine stock,

made at last again

one people, one plant, one garden

in which you will walk, delight and dwell.

O Root of Jesse!

We call to you in our evening song

as Adam did,

our gardener father who knew the names of all

and saw your face reflected in his own

until our bloom withered in his hand

plucked from its sustaining root

by selfish desire.

O Root of Jesse!

We sing you our Magnificat,

first sung by Eve our earth Mother,

long silenced since the sundering of her stock,

until she who is Eve and Jesse’s daughter too

became the place of planting

where you

divine root, and seed, and stock,

now born in time and lulled by her hymn

to sleep before your sorrows

renew in us your

love so radical that we are again

delivered into Eden, rooted in

peace,

God grafted into grace.

O Root of Jesse, standing as a sign among the peoples;

before you kings will shut their mouths,

to you the nations will make their prayer:

Come and deliver us, and delay no longer.

O Adonai! A meditation on the second of the Great O Antiphons of Advent

O Adonai!
We cry to you across the endless ages!
We call you by the name for the Name,
that only the One beyond all names may bear, O Hashem!
We seek from you our own exodus
from the cold and hard world
we have built within ourselves,
and hurt so many others by.

O Adonai!
We yearn for your deliverance!
Free us from the slavery to that false self
that is but a shadow of our souls
Let us put off the sandals that insulate us
from the deep throbbing heart of Mother Earth
and step into your Holy Presence
which is everywhere,
and there,
bow down before
the wonder of it all.
O Adonai!
Send to us the Angel of the Burning Bush!
May he call out to us,
so lost in our own thoughts
and worries
and dreams
that we may
at last
remember
the holiness of the ground
we stand on in every place
and at every time
for our where and when
rests always in
your divine
Now.
O Adonai!
Draw us to yourself, O Holy One!
Lead us on that pilgrim path
from the depths of our selfishness
to the heights of the mountain of compassion
and emptiness.
Bid us enter into the cloud,
that dissembles thought
and pierces the proud heart
so to open the soul to the
truest of loves.
O Adonai!
Let us hear the thunder in the void!
There at the summit and centre of our souls
inscribe your new Law of Love
upon the tablets of our hearts
in letters of divine fire!
O Adonai!
At hour of sunset
and star rise we call to you!
Hear the chant of your Church,
echoing the long and faithful love
of Abraham, and Isaac and their storied
generations.
Listen to these ancient invocations!
Look not on us,
nor on our readiness,
Look instead on she who is,
the Lady of Israel,
the Daughter of Zion,
the Queen of Heaven!
She who is
our burning bush ,
always aflame
but ever unconsumed,
who holds within her
sacred womb the mystery
of the Name made flesh!
Hear us sing her new song of deliverance
Hear the mystery magnified in woman
who in that holiest of births
brings about
our deliverer,
and invites
our exodus
home.
O Adonai!
"Magnificat anima mea Dominum!"
We cry with her,
and in her holy
burning words
we hear the song of her people,
our ancestors of spirit,
echoed anew:
"Ashira L’Adonai ki ga’oh ga’ah!"
And so we sing
with all the generations
this Advent night!
"O Adonai,
and leader of the House of Israel,
who appeared to Moses
in the fire of the burning bush
and gave him the law on Sinai:
Come and redeem us
with an outstretched arm!"

O Wisdom! A meditation on the first of the Great O Antiphons of Advent

 

 

 

O Wisdom!

This night the Church turns toward the second half of its Advent journey as with eight great cries from the aching heart of humanity we express the ancient longing for wholeness,

for liberation,

for union with the divine,

for grace…

From the long cold of our Edenic exile we turn towards the sky and kindle hope looking into the dark for a light beyond all night and we sing the ancient invocations of Presence and power:

The O Antiphons,

the deep magic from before the dawn of time…

So at sundown each evening from now until Christmas Eve we will call on the One who comes…

who descends that we may ascend…

who goes forth from the Father that we may return with Him to the houses of light… We will call on Him by names so ancient they are written in words of fire in the hidden heart of Creation their lightening letters breathed forth from the Divine as transcendent touches that set souls longing and hearts bursting as their litany of longing is intoned

O Sapientia! O Wisdom!

We cry out from the heart of our foolishness, from the loss of our shallow knowing, from our listing and lying about the truth and the wound at the heart of all things…

O make us wise…

Enlighten our darkness…

Long sought and hidden,

yearned for by sages and saints,

desired by philosophers and poets

down the ages Wisdom comes…

so often lost…

so often found…

so needed today.

Pouring forth its divine energies

as Hochma,

as Hagia Sophia,

as God at play,

as a young girl in the full exultation of wonder,

as a woman birthing beauty and blessing,

as an elder sage where being and experience are fused at last into

Wisdom…

For Wisdom

is revealed in the heart,

and in the womb,

in the mother

and in the child,

for in no other way could

so close a union,

an inter-weaving,

an inter-being,

an incarnation

be revealed.

For the One who comes

is already

and always

here.

Hidden yet always present…

Heard thundering from the cloud,

from the mountaintop,

in the burning of the bush,

on the edge of the breeze

in the quiet rhythm of the breath,

and in the rippled

waters

of the womb.

And so, as the tide of sunset washes this world

in the dark ocean of night,

we breathe and stand for the Maiden Mother’s song

And chant our first invocation…

To the Word,

to Wisdom,

to the One who is…

to th One who comes...

“O Wisdom

Who proceedeth from the mouth of the Most High,

Who fills the Universe and holds all things together in a strong yet gentle manner,

O come to teach us the way of truth!”

St. Nicholas Dawn

Feast of St. Nicholas the great Santa Claus himself today...
Always reminds me of that one morning I was privileged to encounter him some years ago...

St. Nicholas Dawn

On the sixth morn of the
month that's dark,
while walking in that hallowed park,
and breathing deep the icy air
I felt the grace of Nicholas there.

I stood a moment in the frost
and felt the yearning of the lost
on land or sea who wandering go,
whose minds and hearts are often low,

as, gripped within by sadness grey,
they stumble through another day
and
long to feel the gift of light
break in upon their inner night.

Then feeling deep their dark and pain
I vowed to ne'r come there again,
until I felt him standing there
all bright against the freezing air.

A bishop robed in red was he,
who looked with kindness upon me,
while leaning on his gnarled staff
his beard it shook as he did laugh,
and said in tone of deepest cheer,
"Why, what on earth do we have here?"

"A little friar out in the cold,
whose failing heart is not so bold,
for overcome with grief is he
for those whose lives in darkness be,
and those who know the belly's wail,
and those who sit alone in jail,
and those whose hearts know only pain,
and those who sleep outside in rain,
and those who fear the stronger power,
and those who nearer feel death's hour!"

And scarce he spoke, but I replied,
"Tis true you see what lies inside!"
"But what can I do next to you,
who dwell above the azure blue,
and as a saint may do so much
to bring the light and healing touch
of Heaven' s blessing earthward sent,
to those whose lives by pain are rent?"

At this, his face it darkened then,
as though despairing of all men,
like me who seek a grace to flow,
but far too often still say no
when called to be a mirror through,
the poor, the lame, the sickened too,
will see a glimpse of heaven's light
that lifts them from the pit of night.

Then as I stood before his face
he touched my heart and blessed this place,
and said, "It's right that this you know,
that saint I am and saint I go,
throughout the world both night and day,
to hear the cries of those who pray
and then I bring their yearning strong
to Him who seeks to right their wrong,
and sent am I by His right hand
to all the hearts within the land,
who gentled are by graces dear
and shed their sweet impassioned tear,
that they would know their call is this,
to enter into Heaven's bliss,
by healing, helping, lifting, raising
listening, watching, minding, saving
the weak, the poor, the little child,
as I did here before I died."

"For this they call me Santa Claus,
I who kept sweet Heaven's laws,
and now I pass them onto you
O little one, who now dares to
extend a hand that helps and heals,
and so the light of God reveals,
to let each poor one deeply know
that Christ their saviour bowed so low,
that babe he came in frost and cold
our Shepherd King, who serves the fold,
and in His mother's arms did cry
for all the sheep, for you and I,
and none He lost, and none forgot
not even those who choose the lot
of greed, and pride, and selfish gain,
for them He offered every pain."

"So come my friend and stand with me
beneath the branches of this tree,
and we shall watch the dawn arise
and light grow in the eastern skies,
and pray, and psalm, and praise again
the One who is the light of men!"

At this the old man smiled at me,
standing 'neath the ancient tree.
As in my heart again I vowed
to cry to all with voice aloud,
of Him who loves us deep and well;
to be a Christmas tolling bell,
that rings and calls both one and all
to heed that ancient Yuletide call,
to light each other's gathering dark
and share within the healing spark,
which He first kindled with His breath,
The One who broke the power of death!

Then as the light grew all around
I seemed to hear a merry sound,
of bells, or chimes from out the air
and laughter deep that saints do share,
and gone he was, my Bishop bright,
there at the dawning of the light,
So I was left once more alone,
filled with a song of Heaven's tone,
that flames within my heart so bright
I fear not now no lack of light!
And forth I went to sing this lay
of the light that shone on Nicholas' Day.

Celtic Christianity: a brief essay

Celtic Christianity:

For the Feast of the All Saints of Ireland here is an essay on Celtic Christianity!
I was invited to write this by Sr. Stan Kennedy for inclusion in her 2015 Book: To Live from the Heart.

Celtic Christianity

The interplay of culture and faith has always produced unique ways of being Christian,

(or Buddhist, or Hindu, or Muslim), When a faith encounters a new culture there are two possibilities – domination, which leads to resistance, fear or even violence; or fusion, which leads to a comfortable inter-being in which the best of what was is nourished by the best of what is. In the Christian tradition, this second way of being has over the centuries led to the beauty of the various Rites of the Church. Each is distinct in language, history and ritual yet all are one Church in confessing one Lord, one faith, one baptism. Unity in diversity is the very mark of the Church in its

catholicity, in its universality.

In the faith communities that grew up in Europe at its westernmost edge between the fourth and tenth centuries this accommodation to native culture, and yet illumination and completion of it by the Christian message, was undertaken in a way never seen before in the history of the Church. A faith community emerged, which though seeing itself as part of the larger Christian Church nevertheless had a unique way of being and a distinctive vision of itself, of the world and of God; a vision that is characterized today as ‘Celtic’. Much of this has been lost in successive waves of invasion and ideology but the traces that remain whisper to the sacred places in many people’s hearts and offer a glimpse of a way of relating to faith and to the Church that seems to ground them in this world and the next in a way both fully human and fully in communion with creation.

The ‘Celtic Christians’ in essence inherited an older form of Christianity from the deserts of Egypt, Lebanon, Syria and perhaps even as far away as Ethiopia. Theirs was a monastic Church, founded by monk missionaries who carried the disciplines and teachings of a contemplative form of life that both completed and transformed beautifully the ‘pagan’ understandings of the pre-Christian Celts. Perhaps it was this origin in a monastic and contemplative way of being that led to the ready fusion of old and new, for the Christianization of the Celtic tribes and lands, particularly Ireland,

happened quickly, and largely without violence or persecution.

To a people who worshipped a pantheon of deities and saw the presence of the divine in every aspect of nature, the revelation of Christ and the Trinity offered a Hero and a High King as well as a God who was, at one and the same time, utterly transcendent of and gloriously immanent in his creation, so it took little to bring the pantheistic pre-Christian Celts to a more subtle understanding of a pan-en-theistic faith, especially when the transition nourished their longing and hope for an afterlife that could be gained without the sacrifice of lives in war, one open to all genders and classes of people regardless of their rank or tribe. Awareness of the presence of the divine in and through the beauty of nature is a mark of this particular expression of Christianity: to such adegree that whilst it is present, and always has been, in the Judaeo-Christian tradition, it had never been so poetically and beautifully expressed before, and would not be again until the Franciscan School in the 1200's.

So what were these ways of being Christian that were manifested in such a unique way in the Celtic forms of Christianity? The early Celtic Church often built on the foundations of monastic communities, each led by an elder known for their holiness and wisdom. The parallel of this structure to the tribal/clan system of the indigenous peoples under a chief meant that there was an immediate understanding, as the two systems seemed to share a common way of life despite their different origins. Loyalty to Clan and to Chief and through him to the High King beautifully paralleled the monks’ obedience to the Elder and above all to Christ, the High King of High Kings. A people raised on the sagas of the Fianna and the Red Branch Knights saw the sacrifice of one’s life to an ideal, and especially to the service of a king, as noble and to be admired. Leaving home and family to serve the Gospel became attractive, even to those of royal and noble blood. This can be seen in the stories of

Colm Cille (Columba) and Brigid. The so-called ‘green martyrdom’ of trusting in the providence of God called forth great missionaries like Brendan and Columbanus, who brought the Celtic expression of the Christian faith to parts of northern Europe and perhaps, in the case of Brendan, a good deal further! Rowing out from land into the ocean currents, they simply went wherever wind and wave, fellow servants of the High King of Heaven, brought them and there lived their life of prayer and praise.

Despite the lush greenness of much of the Celtic territories the spirituality of their monastics was influenced greatly by the fathers and mothers of Christian monasticism who had flourished in the deserts of Egypt and the Lebanon; large monastic complexes – often called ‘Disearts’ for the perceived extremity of the observance – often vied with each other in their pride in the monks and nuns who fasted the most or kept the most vigils, or whose elders worked the most miracles. This ‘boasting in God’ was not meant as a source of vainglory or pride: it came from the bardic culture that esteemed its heroes and heroines and commemorated their deeds to inspire the spiritual practice of others. The bardic culture of long epic poems and sagas created an educated class who,

along with the druids, were among the first Christian converts; they aided in the exchange of ideas, links between cultures and cultivation of wisdom that led to the Celtic monasteries’ reputation as bastions of learning and contemplative practice when the rest of Europe was falling into the chaos of the so-called “Dark Ages”. In Celtic monasticism the fusion of desert spirituality with a holistic understanding of creation and humanity’s place in it saw redemption as bringing

about such a healing of the person that a new and holy unity with creation was the result. Through the ancient remedies of prayer, meditation, fasting, vigils and charity, the monastic began to experience that oneness with nature that Adamic humanity first knew. We have many stories of the Celtic saints and their animal companions: Kevin and the otter, Colm Cille and his horse, Gobnait and her bees, among so many others, show a marvellous intimacy with our fellow creatures in which we all serve the Lord of Creation according to our capacity and gifts.

The visible creation can be a door to the unseen world too. For the Celts, a liminal and animistic people, the nearness of the supernatural, the world of angels, demons and elemental powers carried over from pre-Christian days, was actively completed by the sacramental view of nature that is at the very heart of the Christian contemplative tradition in which all that exists is a word from the Word of God, and creation itself the universal testament to all peoples of all times of Divine Beauty and its nearness to us in every breath.

In the Celtic, domestic form of spirituality every household act, no matter how small, could be performed mindfully in the presence of the divine and

thus assume a cosmological and redemptive purpose and meaning. The blessing prayers and poems that come down to us from places like Donegal and Kerry

and especially from the Hebrides hold an immense lexicon of benedictions for every activity and task of the day and important moment in life. The making of bread, the laying of the fire, the opening of the hall door, the kindling of the evening lights all had their blessing prayer and ritual (usually performed by women in the home and by men on the land), and each had its patron saint or angel. The domestic scene, an expression of the Church in its own right, mirrored and deepened the life of the larger Church, nurturing the sense of belonging and being part of the redemptive mission of Christ through his Church.

With the turning of the year the old festivals found their fulfilment in the liturgical calendar. For example, the honouring of the ancestors at Samhain has its counterpart in the feasts of All Souls and All Saints in which the ancestors were no longer to be feared or placated but to be assisted by the prayers of the living. The old grave offerings became the blessed salt and bread left in the hearth overnight and consumed the next day. The Fires of Lughnasa became the bonfires of St John’s Eve and the dancing around them continued, as did pilgrimages to holy wells and trees and mountains, places now sanctified by the observances of the saints and the miracles they wrought. “Cuimhnionn an tir na Manach,” the people would say ever after: “the land remembers the monks”. So the people would gather to celebrate the goings in and goings out of life; the births, the marriages and the deaths, sanctifying them by their association with the saints of old in ruins and caves

soaked in centuries of prayer.

Today, this unique spirituality and way of being Christian appeals to a generation that achingly feels its distance from the earth and her seasons, that is stressed and distressed by the pace of life and by separation from its inner rhythms. In the wave of mindfulness and meditation programmes and classes that has swept across the Western world we can detect a hunger for the wisdom of the old ways and old paths. Perhaps we need to return to the pace of the ancestors who lived with a foot in both worlds, and in domestic familiar intimacy with God; to return to a pace slow enough for us to discern the language of praise and beauty that issues from every tree and rock and rivulet of water, to realign humanity with its ancient purpose and meaning as the Celtic Christian understood it.

It would be no small thing if this wisdom was recovered and renewed for the next generation. A humble affinity with nature and a sense of our place in the cosmic context of creation and redemption would allow us to recover ourselves as pilgrims

passing reverently through this world with one eye always on eternity and a heart and soul on fire for the High King of Heaven who blesses every place, every moment and every breath.

November: The Month of the Dead

For the Feast of "All Hallows"or All Saints:
A little article I wrote some years ago on the Month of November as a special time of remembering those who have gone before us and the Spiritual Practices associated with it...
Read on..


"It is a holy and wholsome thought to pray for the dead that they might be loosed from their sins"
2Mac, 12:46

A few people from different Religious traditions have asked me about the customs associated with Hallowe’en and the month of November in my tradition so this article will hopefully answer most of the questions.
In the Catholic Tradition the whole month of November is dedicated to praying for and remembering the dead. We begin with Hallowe'en, the eve of the feast of All Hallows or Saints on the 31st of October this falls on the old Celtic Feast of Samhain which again was to do with remembrance of the dead and was seen as the time when the veils that separated the worlds of the living and the dead were at their thinnest. This feast was subsumed into the Christian Calendar from very early on as entirely commensurate in essence with Christian theology and practice. Prayers and Rituals were offered for the departed, and often a candle or light was kindled specially in the home or at the graves of the deceased as a way of remembering those who had gone before. This continues right up to the present day. In my Grandmother’s time the custom was to clean the house and sweep out the hearth and leave bread and salt in a dish as the ancestors would come and visit the house and bless it on this night.
The feast of All Saints, Nov 1st issues in the month properly with its remembrance of all the saints of all times and places. All those Men and Women who have lived lives based on compassion and goodness and who have been gathered together in the kingdom of heaven. On this feast we celebrate not just the Canonised Saints but also the “common or garden” saints, as one old priest I knew used to put it… all those who though appearing to live "ordinary" lives, (there's actually no such thing!), were transformed by grace and love to live extraordinary lives that brought peace and compassion to the world.
The feast stresses that sanctity is the destiny of every human being and that it is within reach of all of us. In the churches Solemn Masses and blessings with the relics and icons of the saints are offered and we give thanks for the lives of all holy men and women of all times and places...
The second of November is dedicated to the feast of All Souls, here we remember all of those souls who, though departed from this life, are still “in via”, on the way to God. On this day we remember those souls who are completing their journey to heavenly life through the state of Purgatory. We call them the Holy Souls, for their salvation is assured and they in turn can pray for and help the living but we also call them Poor Souls for they are dependent on our prayer, penance and acts of charity.
Prayer for the Holy Souls is considered an important way of offering Spiritual Alms and so, on this day, every priest may offer three Masses and the Office of the Dead are prayed by priests and Monks and Nuns. The faithful attend Mass, light blessed candles and visit the graveyards throughout this month. One beautiful custom, which as far as I know is only found in Ireland, relates the prayers for the dead to the falling of the leaves off the trees in that if a leaf falls from a tree in front of your face it was taken to be a message from one of the Holy Souls asking for prayer.
In the Christian tradition, Ghosts in the proper sense, (not poltergeists or mere psychic impressions), are known to be Souls in purgatory who appear to ask for Spiritual Help via prayer so as to complete their purgatory and move on to heavenly life. The faithful also record the names of their departed loved ones on the “November Dead Lists” and these lists are placed upon the Altar and Mass is offered for those whose names are recorded daily throughout the month. Special services of remembrance of all those who have died in the past year are held in most churches with their families being invited to come back and light a candle for the deceased. The candle is then given as a gift of remembrance to the family that they can bring home and light to remember their loved one. People often fast from meat and or alcohol and add extra prayers and daily attendance at Mass for the Holy Souls as well. Perhaps these or some other practice or prayer may be something you would like to take on for this month of remembrance?

One of the oldest prayers for the dead is the “De Profundis” Psalm 129 which goes like this:

Out of the depths we have cried to thee O Lord,
Lord hear our voice
Let thine ears be attentive to the voice of our supplication.
If thou O Lord would mark our guilt; Lord who would endure it?
But with thee there is found forgiveness:
For this we revere thee.
My soul is waiting for the Lord,
I count on His word.
My soul is longing for the Lord
More than watchman for daybreak
Let the watchman count on daybreak and Israel on the Lord
Because with the Lord there is mercy and fullness of redemption,
Israel indeed He will redeem from all its iniquity
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit
As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be world without end.
Amen
O Lord hear my prayer
And let my cry come unto you
Let us pray,
O God the creator and redeemer of all the faithful, grant to the souls of thy servants the remission of all their sins, that through theses pious supplications they may obtain the pardon which they have always desired.
We ask this through Christ Our Lord.
Amen