Dinner at the Diner - a year later.

This is it. I have come full circle and returned to where the blogging began on February 1 of last year. It's been a fun year in which I relaxed my own rules regarding the timing of the photo for the five o'clock hour, yet I still completed the goal I originally set for myself: to make a blog entry every day for a year with a featured photo. And with this last entry, I have posted 365 entries for publication, taken 5,440 photos (according to the counter on my digital camera) and posted just a slim fraction of them. Along the way, I've been to North Carolina two times, Virginia a half dozen times, Maine once and across the river to Pennsylvania or New York another dozen or so times. I've recorded the view from the Homestead in spring, summer, winter and fall, enjoying each season in its turn. I gave up sweetener in my tea and completed a 5K. I've gotten reflective on occasion and sometimes captioned my photo with just a single sentence. I've shared favorite recipes (old and new) as well as diner experiences and am still learning the skill of taking photographs while preparing a recipe!
But mostly, it's been the people in my life that have made the blogging so much fun. First there are the people who share in my blog from miles and time zones away. Though I didn't get to visit with these people in person, our shared experience and/or remembering times together has been the next best thing to being there. Then there are those friends who have spent time with me in person (and by extension you through the blog-o-sphere). Cultivating friendships is probably the best past time I know, and I am of the solid (and very prejudiced) opinion that my garden of friends has some of the most beautiful blooms and vibrant beauty that can be had in a lifetime. Last but not least, I have a family willing to be photographed doing the mundane things of life interspersed with the fun things like shopping with my sister-in-law (and the rest of the girls in the family) or joining my niece and nephew for ice skating, snow tubing, swimming, gardening, cake decorating, and overnights here at the Homestead.


During the holidays I realized the demands of writing my proposal for my dissertation dictate I consider new parameters for future blogging. Thus, with this entry, I am completing my blog here on Blogger. Blogger has been a great forum for helping me to get my blogging feet wet and it fit my needs for this past year. I've enjoyed the experience and look forward to continuing it on a regular basis, but I can't keep up the daily pace. I also have a collection of photos and videos that I'd like to share in a slightly different format that I have access through my Mac book. Therefore, my future blogging will be still be called, "It's 5:00, she's somewhere" but it will be "Made on a Mac" and available by clicking here (or anywhere else you see Mac on this page). So, I invite you to bookmark it if you became a regular reader (but not an official blogger follower) and/or subscribe to it through the RSS feed (to get notices about when it has been updated). When you visit my "Made on a Mac" site, you should see some familiar things but formatted differently. I'll be sharing some posts from this past year in the new format, and there are already some new things I couldn't post here, like videos of the kids having winter fun. My contributions should be a little more streamlined and coherent as they are grouped according to various headings in the site's navigation bar. When you get a few minutes, I hope you visit and explore around a little bit. I hope to update it regularly about once (or maybe even twice) a week, still using photos to ground the thoughts and experiences I share through blogging.

And finally, from me and mine, to you and yours, thanks for being a part of this experience.

Look forward to seeing you soon!

I am snow very happy!

I absolutely love the snow! Love it! And I know this puts me in radically thin company this time of year. About 10 minutes after the first snowflake showed up in late November, people started complaining about the snow and wishing winter away. Granted, some friends of mine here in NJ were a little more even minded and enjoyed the post-Christmas blizzard since it didn't disrupt school or too many travel plans. Here in the Northeast, we take snow with a grain of salt - we know it is going to happen - so we have salt trucks and snow plows ready for the onslaught. But as the weekly snow storms this January have dumped on average 4-8" (depending upon where you live in NJ) many people I know have grown down-right snow weary and winter fatigued. My friend Tracey has even put Old Man Winter on notice and she plans to drop him like a hot potato and throw him over for Hot Mr. Summer - but with no luck. Because - cue the music for a bass solo -

you know Ol' Man Winter,
That old man winter,
He let's it snow in winter,
But not in the summer,
He just keeps snowing,
He just keeps snowing along!

Well, today's winter storm was something of a 'surprise!' here in NJ. Even though we've been hearing about it for close on for a week or so, weather models over the weekend predicted a wintry mess of rain and sleet. Presently it is doing that outside right now. Yesterday, nearly every weather model out there forecast that the precip would be light this morning and pick up its intensity this afternoon. And that just didn't happen. It started snowing before dawn and the morning rush hour was awful. Plows and spreaders were scrambling because they trusted the weather prognosticators. But as my brother says to his summer lifeguarding staff wondering about thunderstorms headed for the pool he manages, "You can't predict the future, only rely on the past to guide your guesses". But no one guessed that there would be 4" of snow on the ground by 8:30 this morning. So I don't blame Tracey or a former pastor of mine who is ready to take a snow shovel to the person he finds out has been praying for snow. I do try and keep a low profile about how much I enjoy this kind of weather by not constantly advertising how much I enjoy weather like this - and Mike, I promise, it really wasn't me saying those prayers!Some snow haters might think I like the snow so much because I don't have to deal with the hardships or downside of a winter storm. But I've had my share of terrifying and life changing moments in snow storms. Once my car was nearly totaled in a single vehicle car accident during the Blizzard of '96 (and I remain forever grateful to my cousin Steve for rescuing me and my car!) I also experienced a memorable 8 hours driving my car with frozen windshield fluid through Kentucky and West Virginia in a steady snow. The whole drive, my friend Kulli, an international student from Estonia, calmly read a book in the passenger seat next to me would occasionally look up and say "It really isn't bad yet, is it?" to which I would reply "It'll be your turn to clean the windshield at the next rest stop" where we would both get out, grab handfuls of the cleanest slush we could find and wash the front windshield of the sand, salt and grit thrown up from the tractor trailers crawling alongside us on the interstate. And I have the tragic memory seared into my brain forever of seeing my neighbor on Second Street in Dunellen fallen over in the middle of the sidewalk with a shovel in his hand and then helping to keep his new widow warm and dry in the open garage door while the police waited on the coroner's office office to show up. Even after all these years, my brother can tell by the sound of the phone that I've called to tell him to be very careful for all the snow clean-up he does for his house, his mother-in-law's and our aunt.

Maybe it is because I respect the snow and the potential harm it holds that allows me to love it as much as I do. In several ways, snow is kind of like the ocean: a terrible force able to snuff out life without a moment's notice and yet a tranquil entity that invites you to drink it in and contemplate its vast peaceful beauty. Life slows down in a snowstorm. I think of it as Mother Nature's way of telling us to take a break from the routine of life. So many of us schedule vacations for the summer, but Old Man Winter gets to decide for us that it is time to take stock, hunker down, snuggle up for a bit and ride out the storm. Of course, it is hectic and puts us on edge as we race to the grocery store to stock up on milk, bread and eggs. There's no doubt in my mind that there are more of us (me included) buying these stapes to have them 'just in cases' than those who are of thinking about making French toast as a delightful way to enjoy the storm. There's also a mess to clean up but as we (please be careful and safe out there!) shovel clear our walkways and driveways, there's a new fresh blanket covering the earth, protecting it from winter's harshest furies and renewing the ground for spring.

I've said before on this blog that I love each of the four seasons in their own turn. And as true as that is, I freely admit to have a very soft spot for Old Man Winter having lived in the South for many years and not experiencing my annual dose of snow. One of my favorite Bible verses (and I've blogged about it here ) is Ecclesiastes 3:1, "To everything there is a season, a time to every purpose under heaven" and this morning, my reading of Proverbs 26:1 added a timely twist on Ecclesiastes; "Like snow in summer or rain in harvest, so honor is not fitting for a fool". That speaks to me today, reminding me there's a rhythm to life and the seasons we pass through. Each season does something special in its turn. My parents raised two kids to enjoy winter sports as much as summer swimming and I see my brother instilling that in my niece and nephew. As much as each season threatens peril there is good to be had as well - an opportunity to let go and let God work within us in this season now so we will be ready for the next as it comes in its own turn. Because if there is one thing we do know; one day ol' man winter won't be snowing, he'll just be rolling along.

Because this fence line looks so good in the snow,
I couldn't limit myself to just one picture.

Sometimes the Holy Spirit moves like that

For the last year or so, I've been trying out a host of different books on the market for my daily devotions. It's been my way of saying that I am familiar with what's published in the marketplace as a person concerned about Christian formation. But just prior to the New Year, I started feeling the nudging of the Holy Spirit to go back to a daily pattern of Bible reading familiar to many Christians. For almost fifteen years, it was my practice to read through Psalms and Proverbs about once a month. It isn't really all that hard if you consider that there are 31 chapters in the book of Proverbs and 150 chapters in the book of Psalms. That means that it is reasonable to read a chapter from Proverbs each day of the month and 5 chapters from Psalms. I say in about a month, because sometimes I would parcel out Psalm 119 into two or three day reads. But once I got to Psalm 150, the next day I would return to the beginning of the book and read through again. Proverbs is a little easier to keep track of if you read the chapter corresponding to the day's date. For instance, read Chapter 1 on the first day of the month and Chapter 2 on the 2nd, and so on - I am sure you get the idea.

Well, even though I felt the nudging of the Spirit for a few weeks, I didn't crack open Proverbs this month in obedience. Then, Sunday morning, the pastor introduced a sermon series on Proverbs and encouraged congregants to read through Proverbs with handy dandy study sheets she was providing in the worship bulletin. And even though I sensed the Holy Spirit was now spiritually smacking me in the head to me to get back into my former discipline of scripture reading, I still managed to slack off for a few days....the kids came for a sledding overnight, I wasn't feeling well, there was an ice storm, yadda, yadda, yadda. All kinds of excuses - until till last evening, when I finally sat down, opened up my devotional Bible and got to reading Proverbs 19. When I finished, I still felt a little like a slacker, because for me, my devotional reading best happens in the morning. I knew there were additional measures I needed to take.

So, this morning, instead of reading the little devo book I was working on before Advent interrupted me from finishing it, I opened up my Bible and went to Proverbs 20 and started reading and when I got to verse 5, it literally jumped off the page at me:

"Counsel in the heart of man is like deep water,
But a person of understanding will draw it out"

The verse spoke to me on a deep personal level about the studies I have been pursuing these past years, the dissertation I am hoping to be green lighted on this spring, the academic struggles and the lessons I have had to learn on the PhD level. It cut me to the core and I felt God's presence in a mighty breathtaking way.

Then, this afternoon, a friend of mine, JD Walt, the chaplain at Asbury Theological Seminary, reflected in his daily blog on the very same verse. His take was different than mine and you can read it here.

What is so profound to me this evening is the realization that reading Scripture for my daily devotional puts me back in the middle of a community of persons to whom I belong even though sometimes we don't share the same geography. That has been very hard with the devotional books I've been reading on my own with an eye towards 'reviewing' them. I've been isolated, ascending the very ivory tower I don't always want to occupy. I'm very determined that my one-day-done-dissertation will mean something to the church as much as it means to the academy. Reading Scripture, especially my old practice of Proverbs and Psalms, returns me squarely within the Body of Christ and connects me to the local community with whom I worship. It also has the serendipitous way of connecting me with friends who live more distantly. and offers me a greater perspective than I can get on my own. I love it when Bible reading and Sunday liturgy does that. It reminds me that I belong to something bigger than myself, the local congregation and even the United Methodist denomination. I am a part of God's church at work in the world and a witness to Jesus Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit. And being connected makes me far more effective than when I try to operate on my own - even in my devotional readings.

Star of Wonder, Star of Night

Ever since I can remember, my parent's Christmas tree has been topped by an illuminated white plastic star. It is a very simple five pointed star, nothing really shiny or ornate. Rather classic. It is treasured and beloved by my family. So beloved, that in order to keep family peace, my father has scavenged flea markets over the years so my brother and I each have our very own illuminated star for our respective trees. He's even bought one in a yard sale for a neighbor who expressed admiration for the star.

The tradition continues on to for the next generation. Sometime last week, my niece informed her father that when she grew up she wanted the star from her parent's tree for her own. Instead of scouring yard sales and flea markets or antique stores, Jim went directly to eBay for his little girl. And he found not just one, but two stars exactly like the ones we grew up with and have for our own trees today. Just one little difference....the narrow red lines that Dad laboriously scratched off of each of our own stars are still intact on the stars up for auction on eBay (and Jim really wants to 'try out' the red lines - therefore the extra star Dad has stashed away wasn't exactly what Jim is looking for).

Once Jim found the star, he called me for advice on bidding. I was as helpful as possible but he got inundated with life and incredibly busy. So I offered to bid for him and last night before I went to bed I placed a bid on the 2nd star eBay was offering. I woke up this morning to the email alerting me that I 'won' the star for my brother. And I realized I had an appropriate picture for the 12th Day of Christmas. My original intent for the 12 Days of Christmas was to find a photo subject that I could pair with a Christmas carol. That didn't go so well as you can see if you scroll back over the past week and a half. When I initially had the idea, I thought that I would end the 12 Days of Christmas with the carol, "We Three Kings" since the Magi arrived with their gifts much later than the shepherds and announcing angels. And as events wonderfully work out, today, a new plastic star, beloved by three generations of my family, is finding its way across the continent to come rest in a box and wait to be used on another family member's Christmas tree. Kinda makes me want to sing.....

We three kings of Orient are
Bearing gifts we traverse afar
Field and fountain, moor and mountain
Following yonder star

O Star of wonder, star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to thy Perfect Light

Born a King on Bethlehem's plain
Gold I bring to crown Him again
King forever, ceasing never
Over us all to rein

O Star of wonder, star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to Thy perfect light

Frankincense to offer have I
Incense owns a Deity nigh
Pray'r and praising, all men raising
Worship Him, God most high

O Star of wonder, star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to Thy perfect light

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

O Star of wonder, star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to Thy perfect light

Glorious now behold Him arise
King and God and Sacrifice
Alleluia, Alleluia
Earth to heav'n replies

O Star of wonder, star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to Thy perfect light

It's not tattooed on the back of my neck!

It appears there is a war on Christmas and it is fought on many fronts and has new tactics each year. Someone told me the war on Christmas began when some retail chains decided to their policy of no solicitation and wouldn't let charities do their annual fund drive outside their stores. Others report that the war on Christmas happened when some companies decided to have holiday sales rather than Christmas sales in December. And I've even heard the war on Christmas is because some merchants won't wish their customers a "Merry Christmas" during the month of December. This last battle is being fought down in Texas by a large church that is placing offensive merchants on a 'naughty' list while placing stores who say "Merry Christmas" to their customers on the 'nice' list. I think I know many Christians who cringe at this response and just want to say, "Jesus needs better PR!".

I guess I am just oblivious - or I was taken as an early prisoner when I was a kid. I grew up in Central suburban New Jersey. Since childhood, I've had Yom Kippar and Rosh Hashanah off from public school along with Easter and Christmas. In grade school, we traced oak-tag patterns to cut Christmas stockings and Chanukah dreidels out of construction paper to decorate the classroom. Santa Claus came to our school and handed out candy canes to EVERYONE, even the Jewish kids! (It was our Jehovah's Witness classmates that were sent on 'errands' out of the classroom and down the hall shortly before Santa made his appearance so they wouldn't violate their church doctrine about celebrations).
In the neighboring town of Dunellen, huge wooden figures and the words "Season's Greetings" were spelled out on the town's green. In the early days of December, it was with torturous anticipation that Jim and I would beg Mom or Dad to make a detour to see if the festive elves, candy canes and Santa's sleigh was on display yet. (And until I was an Auntie, I never realized how much the driver was looking forward to seeing how much of the town was decorated).

Well, I made a major detour today to see what was on Dunellen's town square. I was disappointed to find out that the giant red wooden signs that spelled out "Season's Greetings" I remember from childhood are no longer a part of the decor....BUT I was thrilled to see that all of the parking meters in town are covered with little plastic baggies to let shoppers park for free as they shop downtown. And it wasn't because I had some shopping to do. It's because I have absolutely no problem when a merchant says to me "Have a nice holiday" as I leave their store. How is the merchant supposed to know I am a Christian and am doing my Christmas shopping? Despite what a classic Monty Python's sketch infers, my religious affiliation is not tattooed on the back of my neck. Since my brief interaction with a salesclerk is not likely to illicit a protracted conversation about what holiday I'm celebrating this month, I am not faulting the cashier or the company they work for because I am offered a generic holiday greeting that has been used since greeting cards came into style.

Don't get me wrong, I do like being wished a "Merry Christmas". And when that greeting comes from a person working in a church's gift shop or is offered by the clerk in a Christian bookstore I try to return it with as much warmth and meaning as I did when I exchanged greetings with the cashier in the secular store - because I hope we all enjoy a wonderful time celebrating time with family and friends. But when I am wished a "Merry Christmas" by the clerks who I purchase from all year long, persons with whom my purchase is more than just a random momentary encounter, "Merry Christmas" takes on a special quality, because hopefully what they know is that I am a Christian - and not because they know it is tattooed on the back of my neck - but by the person and witness to Christ I've been all year long. After all, doesn't that little song say "And they will know we are Christians by our love"?

The wait is almost over

It's the fourth Sunday of Advent and the waiting is almost over. All four candles of Advent are lit. We wait to light the Christ candle on Christmas Eve to proclaim his birth!

I have been rigorous during the Advent hymn study to stay with Advent themes and songs. But this evening, for the fourth and final Sunday of Advent, I let up a bit on being the Advent police and allowed the group the chance to examine a Christmas carol. I chose "Hark! the Herald Angels Sing" for a variety of reasons. First and foremost, it was written by Charles Wesley and I lead the study at a United Methodist Church. Somehow, I find it a little hard to ignore one of the most popular Christmas hymns in Christendom that is penned by the brother of the guy who helped gather "the people who are called Methodist". Second good reason for the selection is the fact that there is some great theology in the carol. Thirdly, I like the fact that the 'herald angels' are the ones who go out and proclaim this incredible event that happened. They are bringing the good news of this birth to the rest of the world. Without the angels appearing to the shepherds and bringing them tidings of great joy to tell them what happened over in Bethlehem, David's city, (Luke 2:8-14) the event would have slipped by unawares except for some Magi who arrive a week and a half later (Matthew 2:1-12).

Another reason why I chose this hymn is that it does not take us to the stable, manger or cave in which Jesus is reported to have been born. Sure, the iconic image of the humble stable in Bethlehem are conjured up with the first verse, but the focus of the hymn is Jesus. We see all sorts of names for Jesus; a King, Christ, Lord, incarnate diety, Emmanuel or "God is with us", Prince of Peace and Son of Righteousness. And so it is with Christmas, all sorts of ways that celebrate that something special happened in that little city of Bethlehem. And so it will be this week as we continue to get ready to celebrate the 12 Days of Christmas.

Hark! the herald angels sing, “Glory to the newborn King;
peace on earth, and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled!”
Joyful, all ye nations rise, join the triumph of the skies;
with th’ angelic host proclaim, “Christ is born in Bethlehem!”

Christ, by highest heaven adored; Christ, the everlasting Lord;
late in time behold him come, offspring of a virgin’s womb,
Veiled in flesh his Godhead see; hail th’ incarnate Deity
pleased with us in flesh to dwell, Jesus, our Emmanuel.

Hail the heaven born Prince of Peace! Hail the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all he brings, risen with healing in his wings.
Mild he lay his glory by, born that we no more may die,
born to raise us from the earth, born to give us second birth.

Revelations of a High School Orchestra Alumna*

You might be a fan of the television show Glee and/or watched High School Musical with your kids, but how many of you were members of your high school orchestra? Yes, I said 'orchestra', and by orchestra I mean the red headed step child of most school musical programs. How many of you played a stringed instrument (guitars don't count - I'm talking about instruments that were played with bows) the majority of your school career and were rewarded with complete anonymity because you never marched during half time or had your face and voice star in the school play? Well, obviously, from the picture above, I was a member of the Piscataway High School orchestra and I'll have you know I played both the violin and viola during my tenure there. Thanks to my dad the PHS orchestra took one of its first step out of anonymity when I became the first and only member of the orchestra in the early 1980s to have a stadium jacket proclaiming my membership! Truth be told, I was more than a little embarrassed at the time but since it was the warmest coat I owned and I had to walk between the old and new buildings of the high school to attend my classes it saw its use and wear during my high school years. And probably due the huge number of Piscataway Superchiefs (band members) sporting coats for the drum line or the flag team, my coat stayed relatively obscure.

I dug my coat out of storage last week in anticipation of this evening. I'll be singing with the PHS Concert Choir in rehearsal for the upcoming Winter Holiday Concert this Friday. This year, the choir will be resurrecting the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel's Messiah. One of my high school classmates, Bill Wallace, was dismayed to attend his daughter's choir concerts the past three years at our alma mater and not be invited to come sing the Hallelujah Chorus as an alumnus. It was standard fare back in the day (and up until recent years) that alumni would be invited to come participate in a few traditional numbers. I say alumni could participate because orchestra AND choir members returned to the stage to perform a few select carols and the Hallelujah Chorus. It seems the change in program occurred a few years back when the concert stretched to more than 2.5 hours long and it was decided to create multiple winter concerts for the wide variety of musical talent at PHS which now boasts two orchestras! (I am just curious to know how many of them have stadium jackets!?!) And somewhere in the split, the Hallelujah Chorus disappeared from the program.
So, after last year's concert, Bill launched a campaign to garner support from alumni to bring back the Hallelujah Chorus. While I support his endeavor, I am not totally shocked Bill and many of my CC (Concert Choir) classmates don't remember that after the orchestra had preformed its bit for the evening, we waited in the room adjoining the stage so our instruments could stay somewhat warm and in tune for the final numbers of the concert. Then, soon after the CC began their performance on risers in front of the stage, we orchestra members had to creep silently and carefully back onto the stage in the dark with our instruments and music in hand so we could be seated and in place for when the alumni received their invitation to come down front to join in the program. At that point, the curtain parted to reveal the orchestra on stage and the choir did a little shuffle to accommodate arriving alumni and allow a space so the choir director (Mr. Murphy during my first years of high school and Miss Collins my final years) could see Mr. Bradshaw, the orchestra director who was the one who brought us into position so we could be the string accompaniment to a selection of carols and the Hallelujah Chorus. Little wonder that even the high school orchestra alumni members went unnoticed - if we attended the concert and planned to preform, we had to report to the same backstage area as students, tune our instruments and creep onto stage with the rest of the orchestra as well. No fanfare for returning alumni in the orchestra, just low key tune-ups and the grateful thanks of Mr. Bradshaw and Mrs. Ish (the string coordinator for the middle and elementary schools) for keeping our fingers nimble and ready to play.
Tonight I'm wearing my high school orchestra jacket this evening to 'represent' the orchestra of my youth. I won't be playing my violin though. Even though the fingers of my left hand automatically start bouncing when I hear the first strains of the Hallelujah Chorus, my instrument hasn't seen the light of day since before I attended seminary. And it was the mid 1980s the last time I actually played the Hallelujah Chorus on a stringed instrument. But over the last fifteen years, I've participated in a variety of Messiah concerts and am very familiar with the alto part of the Hallelujah Chorus. Seems that's granted me 'special dispensation' from the present choral director to come sing with other alumni members at rehearsal for this weekend's concert. No saying how much attention the coat will garner since I don't plan to actually wear it while I sing, but I'll know its there and that little part of my violin/viola playing heart will be playing in perfect tune and tempo with the golden haired children of the Concert Choir.

* Thanks to Mr. Moffitt's Latin class (and a little brush up in classical languages during seminary) I know the proper declensions of alumnus, alumni, aluma and alumnae.

Just what are we waiting for?

Traditionally, on the third Sunday in Advent, the pink candle, or the "Mary" Candle is lit. I've been hosting an Advent hymn study each Sunday evening this season at Sergeanstville UMC. In the center of our dinner table (we enjoy a mug of soup with our study) is this Advent wreath that I've lugged from Kentucky to Virginia to New Jersey without ever lighting the square pillar candles in the five years I've owned it. This year, I decided, it was finally time to light them.

What was I waiting for all these years by not lighting them? I don't really know exactly. I like the candles and that is precisely why I bought them when I saw them (besides the fact I knew they would go with a wreath and some decorations I already possessed). Maybe I never lit them the last couple of years because during the rush and crush of the end of the fall semester I wasn't interested in lighting one candle one week without being able to follow through and light the rest that Advent season. Maybe I didn't want to waste the candles on just me alone to enjoy them. Maybe I didn't want to burn them and then not have them in pristine condition for the next year. For whatever reasons I've subconsciously harbored the past five years, this is the year that I decided that they should be lit - and it's bonus points to be able to enjoy them with a small group of people each Sunday evening as we discuss Advent hymns and consider what it is that we are expecting at the start of the church year as we anticipate the arrival of the Christ child in the nativity at Christmas.

This evening we examined "Hail to the Lord's Anointed" written by James Montgomery in 1821. Granted, its a little more obscure than the last two we discussed (Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus and O Come, O Come Emmanuel). And the reason that might be (I am totally guessing here) is that this hymn really focuses on the other Advent we expect and wait for - the second and final triumphant coming of Christ. This hymn makes no reference to the birth of Jesus and does not really conjure up Christmas like visions of sugar plums or even idyllic pageants with kids wearing robes and cloaks pretending to be characters in the Nativity scene. Montgomery's hymn goes straight to the heart of what Christians believe Jesus will do when he comes again - bring mercy, end strife, break oppression and let peace reign throughout all creation. And though those ideas are linked to the baby born in Bethlehem, mostly we project them more on the man that baby eventually came and the ministry he inaugurated. In his hymn, Montgomery invites us to look past Bethlehem, look past Galilee, look past Jerusalem, look past even the passion, death and resurrection of Christ to the time when he comes again...when sorrow and sadness are no more. This hymn in my opinion - and admittedly its one I've barely ever sung in my lifetime - picks up the themes that are latent in our other Advent hymns and Christmas carols: there are really, really, really good things coming, things like joy to the world, peace on earth, and good will among all people. But now, in the meantime, we aren't simply stuck in the darkness on our own waiting for Christ to come rescue us. Advent candles remind us the light of God already shines in our lives and when we share it with others we know a little of that joy, peace and good will. Right now we only know it in glimpses and in part. And one day we will know it totally and for all eternity.

Hail to the Lord’s Anointed, great David’s greater Son!
Hail in the time appointed, his reign on earth begun!
He comes to break oppression, to set the captives free;
to take away transgression, and rule in equity.

He comes with succor speedy to those who suffer wrong;
to help the poor and needy, and bid the weak be strong;
to give them songs for sighing, their darkness turn to light,
whose souls, condemned and dying, are precious in his sight.

He shall come down like showers upon the fruitful earth;
love, joy, and hope, like flowers, spring in his path to birth.
Before him, on the mountains, shall peace, the herald, go,
and righteousness, in fountains, from hill to valley flow.

To him shall prayer unceasing and daily vows ascend;
his kingdom still increasing, a kingdom without end.
The tide of time shall never his covenant remove;
his name shall stand forever, that name to us is love.

Advent - waiting for what is to come

This evening I am leading an Advent hymn study on "O Come, O Come Emmanuel", a traditional carol that has been a part of Christian hymnody since the 9th century. Last week we studied "Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus" written some 250 years ago by Charles Wesley. It's no mistake that these two hymns begin with the word 'come' because Advent means "to come". Most Advent hymns revolve around the theme of waiting and preparing and being expectant about what is coming. Christmas is coming. It isn't here yet. I hate to break it to you folks, but regardless of what the merchandisers tell you and the cacophony of Christmas carols and songs on the radio, Christmas has not come yet. But it will be here soon - it's just not now - it's still coming!

And what is coming is so good, we can't wait for it to begin to celebrate. We allow ourselves to start to celebrate a little early. I don't think that is entirely a bad thing either. After all, is it really possible to contain all the joy and love that Christmas represents in a 12 day festival? The other evening, I watched "A Christmas Carol" with my sister-in-law Lorraine and was intrigued by the use of the word 'come' in the Christmas morning scene when Scrooge had learned his lesson about celebrating and keeping Christmas. In the Disney movie, the carolers are singing "Joy to the world, the Lord is come" because it is finally Christmas. The waiting is over, the celebrations begin, the earth rejoices, and on that first day of Christmas our true love gives us a partridge in a pear tree.

But for now it's still Advent. Time to wait for what is coming. Time to prepare. Two more Sundays to light the Advent wreath. Today is December 5th and that almost 20 more days of opening little cardboard doors on daily Advent calendars to see what is behind them. Almost twenty more days of pinning little ornaments to the daily Advent calendar. Almost three more weeks of waiting for what is to come. And no one ever said waiting was easy - especially when we are excited about what is coming.

Waiting for Christmas each year is hard. It's hard on kids excited to see what gifts Santa is going to put under the tree. It's hard on adults wondering if the expectations for the holiday will be met. It's especially hard on those of us who have lost a loved one when we realize that this year we won't be celebrating with someone we've loved deeply and we suddenly miss that person with agonizing acuteness that threatens to deaden the whole holiday. But Advent calls us to wait for what is coming. But it doesn't ask us to wait passively; it calls us to wait expectantly. Appropriately, each stanza of today's hymn captures the excruciating labor of waiting for extraordinarily wondrous Emmanuel - the 'God who is with us' - that is still to come.

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel,
that mourns in lonely exile here until the Son of God appear

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel, shall come to thee, O Israel.

O Come, thou Wisdom from on high, and order all things far and nigh;
to us the path of knowledge show and cause us in her ways to go.

O Come, O Come, great Lord of might, who to thy tribes on Sinai’s height
in ancient times once gave the law in cloud and majesty and awe

O Come thou Root of Jesse’s tree, an ensign of the people be;
before thee rulers silent fall; all peoples on they mercy call.

O Come, thou Key of David, come, and open wide our heavenly home.
The captives from their prison free, and conquer death’s deep misery.

O come, thou Dayspring, come and cheer our spirits by thy justice here;
disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death’s dark shadows put to flight.

O come, Desire of nations bind all peoples in one heard and mind.
From dust thou brought us forth to life; deliver us from earthly strife.

First Sunday in Advent - Waiting in Hope

Advent begins today. It's the first season of the Christian calendar prior to the 12 Days of Christmas which begin December 25th. Advent means 'coming' and is a celebrated each Sunday by lighting four successive candles which symbolize the coming of light into the world at the birth of Jesus the Christ on Christmas Day. It's my absolutely favorite season of the liturgical year and has been since I was a little girl and purchased this little brass calendar with my Nana for the grand price of 15 cents. Obviously, my cherished Advent calendar needs a little cleaning and proper candles if I'm going to be able to use it the rest of the season.
And that is appropriate - because Advent is about preparing; preparing ourselves and organizing our lives in such a way that we are ready to not just celebrate the Christmas holiday, but preparing ourselves and organizing our lives in ways that tell the world that as Christians, we proclaim Jesus Christ to be not just Infant Holy, Infant Lowly but King of Kings and Lord of Lords.
Traditionally, the first candle of the Advent season symbolizes hope, expressed poetically by the words of Charles Wesley in 1744;

Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus

Come, thou long expected Jesus, born to set thy people free;
from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in thee.
Israel’s strength and consolation, hope of all the earth thou art;
dear desire of every nation, joy of every longing heart

Born thy people to deliver, born a child and yet a King,
born to reign in us forever, now thy gracious kingdom bring.
By thy own eternal spirit rule in all our hearts alone;
by thine all sufficient merit, raise us to thy glorious throne.

Thank you, Veterans

The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, the guns fell silent on the war to end all wars in a war begun nearly a century ago. Armistice Day was a day of remembrance for those who fought and died. Eventually, here in America, Memorial Day became the holiday that we honor those that died and Veterans Day became the day to remember and thank those who served. Actually, I think over the past few years, we've been thanking on Memorial Day and remembering on Veterans Day and there's not a thing wrong with that in my book. What a sacrifice the men and women of the armed forces have made over the years to secure our freedom - to say nothing of their families who go long months, even years without their parent, spouse, sibling or child while they are serving. To give pause twice a year as a nation as well as taking a moment to personally extend our thanks the individuals we encounter in uniform is the smallest way of repaying them for all they've secured for us.

The veterans of this battlefield during the Battle of Princeton in early January 1777 no longer survive to tell their story of sacrifice - but our nation exists as a testimony to their willingness to stick it out and re-up their enlistment four days earlier when General George Washington appealed to them to stay on for just a little bit longer after their successful capture of Trenton on Christmas Day. It would take another four years and on a battlefield in Yorktown, Virginia the British Redcoats would surrender their arms and end the Revolutionary War. Some fifty years later, a century before our nation dedicated a day to honor veterans - this colonnade was erected on the battlefield in Princeton to remember the dead and honor those who fought.

The colonnade overlooks the battlefield which is marked by a few trees. I am sure it looks quite different from the battlefields our veterans have fought and served on in more recent years.

The famous Mercer oak tree that General Mercer used to support himself when he refused to leave the battlefield after being wounded was torn apart by high winds in 2000. Another oak tree was planted along side it and still grows in an enclosed fence that surrounds the root structure of the original and the new one. I guess you might say that to the local inhabitants, the original oak was a beloved veteran of the battle as it incorporated into the insignia for Princeton Township and Mercer County still used today.

The following lines are traditionally read in Canada, Britain and UK countries on November 11th, remembering those that serve and those that paid the ultimate sacrifice;

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

Thank you, veterans, we remember you and give you thanks.