Happy New Year!

Here's to more contemplation, a quieter heart, and sincere love of wisdom in 2008! Hail to all philosopher moms, dads, and progeny!

Feast of the Holy Family

Happy Feast of the Holy Family, the "living image of the love of God." I love this image, above, because (a) the blue is so vibrant and (b) Joseph seems to be whacking a tree with a large stick in the background. Now, I understand he is merely harvesting figs or grapes or something, but couldn't he also be venting some angst? After all, he is fleeing into Egypt with the world's only Perfect Woman and Perfect Infant. Perhaps he took great delight in just whaling away on fig trees from time to time...

On a serious note, here is Benedict XVI's address at the Angelus from last year's feast.

It is a lovely rest for the heart today. After contemplating all the brokenness of our own families this Christmas time--with the family reunions, parties, squabbles--I need so much to rest in the image of a family perfectly surrendered to the Creator. Silent, obedient Joseph, the wondering heart of Mary, and the little God-made-man in their arms. Alleluia. God is with us.

On fleshiness

Merry Christmas!

I've been pondering the imponderable mystery a little bit here and there: that the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.

Christmas with a two-year-old and a large, pregnant middle is very fleshy. Most of the time is devoted to calming the born child and feeding the unborn child, delighting in both. It's a high-stimulation situation. I am very much aware of (a) my own body and (b) my subsequent inability to concentrate on anything for more than three minutes.

So, it is with great thanks and an incomparable sense of lowliness that I turn every so often, for about ten seconds, to the infant logos, the Word in flesh. I am grateful that the Truth is not the answer to a logic problem; nor is it the concluding sentence of a long philosophical discourse. The Truth is a person. His concrete, fleshy presence is my heart's desire. And even a pregnant, ex-academic, exhausted, hungry, moody mother of two can rest in a presence. My brain can't wrap around any deep reflections this Christmas, but my whole being can be in the presence of the Word made flesh. Alleluia. His mercy is beyond all telling!

"We come together as the Church to learn how to recognize the fact of this Presence, and to witness to it in any circumstance of life, especially when there are no answers. Jesus Christ is the way to the Answer. In him, way and answer coincide." ~Msgr. Lorenzo Albacete

O Oriens

O Oriens: “O Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come, shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death.” Isaiah had prophesied, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shown."

The Philosopher Mom is signing out of the blog for the rest of Advent. May your Christmas be holy and blessed! Veni, Emmanuel!

O Sapientia

Today begin the O Antiphons--the last days leading up until Christmas. Fr. William Saunders has a good explanation of them here. They are different titles for the coming Christ invoked during these days before the Magnificat at evening prayer.

Today is O Sapientia--"Come, O Wisdom!"

O Sapientia: “O Wisdom, O holy Word of God, you govern all creation with your strong yet tender care. Come and show your people the way to salvation.” Isaiah had prophesied, “The spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him: a spirit of wisdom and of understanding, a spirit of counsel and of strength, a spirit of knowledge and fear of the Lord, and his delight shall be the fear of the Lord.” (11:2-3), and “Wonderful is His counsel and great is His wisdom.” (28:29).

Christ comes!

Since the first half of Advent is the time of waiting for Christ's second coming, I thought this whimsical poem apt. It hails from "Dappled Things."

An English Apocalypse

The end of all things will be on Wednesday afternoon
After tea.

Mr Peterson, in his second best charcoal suit
will be accosted by Caphrael, a Prince of Hell
(who will be recognisable by the smell of old eggs)
Mr P. will cry “Bugger me” and drop his briefcase.

Death, War, Famine
and the other member of the band
(you know the one, his name escapes me)
Will run amok in Camden market
And overturn three stalls of leather goods
And upset some arrangements
Of ersatz Gucci handbags.

A Tube driver
Aghast for all the strange apparitions
And in a foam-fuelled frenzy
will lose control
And drive his Piccadilly train
Very slowly
From Holborn to King’s Cross
London Underground will announce delays
Due to a power outage at Liverpool Street.

Leviathan, in full sea monster regalia
Will arrive five minutes behind schedule
And eat Tower Bridge

The dead will rise in Smithfield
Angels will be seen in Highbury
Hellfire will rain on a third of Bloomsbury
Bloody hail over Hyde Park
A six-point earthquake in the City
All in all, London will experience more chaos than is typical for
teatime on Wednesday.

Then will come the end, and suddenly:
The Son of Man coming on all the clouds of heaven.
The cherry red doubledeckers will burn like paper models
Before Christ the Tiger.

—Gabriel Olearnik

I'm not sure about "Christ the Tiger." It seems a little inconspicuous here. But I like the understatement in the poem--very British.

Books on sale!

Loome Antiquarian Booksellers is closing its doors forever on December 31. This is sad. Even sadder, however, will be the fate of their "tens of thousands" of books if you don't buy them.

See this video to find out what happens to abandoned old books.

The good news is: you can spend your Christmas money on rare, philosophical, theological, historical, or prayer books at 25-90% off the original price!