Blizzard: It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Posted on December 23, 2020 by Brian H. Gill


(Wednesday noon, December 23, 2020; my webcam’s view of Sauk Centre’s south side.)

Tuesday afternoon’s winter storm warning for my part of central Minnesota became a blizzard warning in the evening.

We were promised a chance of freezing rain. But I didn’t notice any Wednesday morning.

On the other hand, wind was picking up and by noon snow wasn’t coming down. It was coming across. I’d probably have got out to the Eucharistic Adoration chapel for my 2:00-3:00 Wednesday afternoon turn, if my wife hadn’t said I should think about it.

Which I did. Then I started calling folks who should be told when a scheduled adorer can’t make it. Odds are pretty good that they closed the chapel anyway. The Adoration chapel may be devout. But we’re not crazy.

Adoration and Alternatives

Well, most of us aren’t.

Like I said, I was going to go: blizzard or no blizzard. I very strongly suspect it’s not because I’m devout above and beyond the call of reason.

More likely, it’s because I’m a guy and we live longer if we’re married. Or so I’ve heard.

About closing the Adoration chapel: I’m not involved in that part of the operation, but I gather that someone’s tasked with reposing the Host and taking care of whatever weather-related procedures are needed.

Would I have preferred having my hour of Eucharistic Adoration this afternoon? Yes!

Am I going to grouse, grumble and gripe about the weather, folks who say my life matters, or the National Weather Service for scaring us with weather reports?

No. I am not.

I am, however, going to do a little reading and some prayer that I’d have done at the chapel. And then I’ll be back to finish this post. That’s my plan, anyway.

Discord, the Other Discord, and “Deck Us All With Boston Charlie”

Walt Kelly's Pogo characters and 'Deck Us All With Boston Charlie.' (1961)That was several hours back now. It’s still Wednesday, Wednesday evening.

My son had asked me if I had set up a Discord account yet.

I had not.

A Discord account, I discovered, has nothing to do with My Little Ponys. Or is that My Little Poinies? Never mind. Discord (discord.com) has nothing to do with Discord, the charmingly eccentric dragon-moose-whatever of MLP.

Or, so far as I can tell, with those who would bring chaos and tumult to this fair land.

Which would be quite a trick on a night like this. I figure the only folks out in this weather are those whose job is keeping streets and roads comparatively clear, emergency responders, and folks with more optimism than good sense.

None of which has much to do with “Deck Us All With Boston Charlie,” but it’s almost Christmas, and I like the old Pogo strips.

Speaking of Christmas, the Weather Service says this blizzard will likely keep going for another 12 hours. (It’s just after 6:00 p.m. here in Minnesota.) Looks like we’ll have a white Christmas this year.

And now, more weather maps than you need, or probably want, to see. And whatever else I think while setting them up.

“Oh, the Weather Outside is Frightful….”


(From National Weather Service, used w/o permission.)
(U.S. National Weather Service map, 6:58 p.m. on December 22, 2020.)

That’s what I saw about 23 hours back. A winter storm warning is something to notice – but not enough to necessarily make me change my Wednesday afternoon plans.

A few hours later, the forecasts had been updated.


(From National Weather Service, used w/o permission.)
(U.S. National Weather Service map, 10:09 p.m. on December 22, 2020.)

Okay. A blizzard is still a winter storm of sorts. But Stearns County, where I live, is on the edge of the blizzard warning. Still not necessarily reason to change my plans.

And thus ended Tuesday the 22nd.

Snowing Sideways


(From National Weather Service, used w/o permission.)
(U.S. National Weather Service map, 8:24 a.m. on December 23, 2020.)

Wednesday morning, and the forecasts have changed again. Slightly, and mostly other than where I live.

No problem. My hour at the Adoration chapel is from two until three, but now I’m wondering whether maybe I’d better reconsider.


(From National Weather Service, used w/o permission.)
(U.S. National Weather Service map, noon, December 23, 2020.)

Noon, Wednesday, December 23, 2020. It’s snowing sideways. My wife tells me I should think before going out. I decide that she’s right. And start calling folks who need to know that I’m not coming in.

Start trying to call folks. The telephone system told me that some numbers were disconnected or no longer in service, other didn’t respond, and – – – long story short, it was frustrating.

And, therefore, a good opportunity to practice patience.


(From National Weather Service, used w/o permission.)
(U.S. National Weather Service Upper Midwest radar map, noon, December 23, 2020.)

And so, now, several hours after I said I was going to do my ‘Adoration hour’ reading and prayer, I’ve done only a little of the reading and none of the prayer.

“And a Good Time Was Had by All”

I’m not overly concerned. Partly because I’ve been spending much of the time chatting (I think that’s the verb) with my number-one daughter via Discord. Nice! As my father used to say, “and a good time was had by all.”

I figure I’ll get the prayers done later this evening. After I wrap up this post.

And, as it turns out, decide to do some slightly more Christmas-themed stuff tomorrow.

Which leaves me with the often-pleasant task of adding links to vaguely-related posts:

And, this time, my webcam:

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Wheat, Tares, Fear of the Lord and Working on Wisdom

Posted on December 19, 2020 by Brian H. Gill


(Now that I have your attention.)

Last Sunday’s homily included mention of the ‘wheat and tares’ parable. Or was it Sunday before last? Either way, that parable didn’t fit the Gospel reading.

But the off-season reference put wheat, weeds and questions on my mind’s front desk. And reminded me of a ‘Wheat and Tares’ post I wrote about a half-dozen years back.

Then, a few days ago, I was told that the Catholic Church is a terrorist organization.

I started writing about that, added a revised version of the old ‘wheat and tares’ post, and wound up with this:

Belonging to an (allegedly) “Terrorist Organization” ??

The “terrorist organization” assertion almost makes sense.

A few priests have behaved badly. Very badly. So have a few bishops, and at least one American cardinal.

Abusing minors, or anyone else, is a bad idea and nobody should do it. And it’s worse when the abuser is someone who should be caring for the minor. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2389)

I don’t know why American bishops and cardinals didn’t, when they heard rumors of abuse, act immediately. I also don’t know why some seem to have deliberately ignored signs of trouble.

But that’s what happened. Nothing will undo what some, not all, clergy did. Or didn’t do.

I also don’t know why a reboot of the ‘pedophile priest’ story didn’t get traction, about two years back:

Maybe presidential campaign preludes, followed by the COVID-19 pandemic, provided sufficient sound and fury; and that’s another topic.

Beware the Satanic Papal Octopus: Legacy, Cycle A and an Angry God

Udo Keppler's 'The American Pope' anti-catholic cartoon. (1894))

H.E. Fowler's 'Papal Octopus,' featured in Jeremiah J. Crowley's (1913) 'The Pope: Chief of White Slavers High Priest of Intrigue,' p. 430. (1913)The “terrorist organization” label sounds new. Maybe it’s a post-9/11 moniker.

But the basic idea is not unfamiliar.

Denouncing the Romanism monster seems vital to a fair number of traditional American viewpoints.

I suspect that hostility toward “The Papal Octopus” comes partly from a love of justice.

And a sincere desire to defend America from Evil, Superstition, Subversion and other arms of the “Satanic” monster.

Not that many folks see Fowler and Crowley’s “Papal Octopus” in their mind’s eye when they think of the Catholic Church. Most, maybe, have never read Crowley’s “The Pope: Chief of White Slavers High Priest of Intrigue.”

Maria Monk’s best-seller is another matter, and yet another topic. (May 14, 2017)

I don’t enjoy experiencing my culture’s anti-Catholic attitude. And, since I became a Catholic, I certainly don’t support it. But it comes with the territory. And, like I said, opposing the “Papal Octopus” may be  inspired partly by a (misdirected) love of justice.

Where was I? Weeds. Questions. Fighting Evil, Superstition and Subversion. Right.

I won’t hear the wheat and tares/weeds parable as a Gospel reading until July of Cycle A. We’re starting Cycle B now, so that’ll be a while. The A-B-C Sunday and weekday and I-II cycles go back to 1969.

I figure some folks are still upset about the A-B-C and I-II cycles. I’m not, and that’s yet again another topic.

God: Large and In Charge

'Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,' Jonathan Edwards. (1741)God is occasionally presented as violence-prone, with serious anger management issues.

Some folks who describe the Almighty this way seem to think that we should worship God because the alternative is getting squashed like bugs.

Others claim that God is a make-believe bogeyman, invented by charlatans to frighten people.

I think both claims are missing an important point.

God is just, God is merciful: and sometimes God has to get our attention.

“For neither is there any god besides you who have the care of all,
that you need show you have not unjustly condemned;
“Nor can any king or prince confront you on behalf of those you have punished.
“But as you are righteous, you govern all things righteously;
you regard it as unworthy of your power
to punish one who has incurred no blame.
“For your might is the source of righteousness;
your mastery over all things makes you lenient to all.”
“You taught your people, by these deeds,
that those who are righteous must be kind;
And you gave your children reason to hope
that you would allow them to repent for their sins.”
(Wisdom 12:13, :16–19)

That’s from Cycle A’s 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time readings. That Sunday’s Gospel reading, Matthew 13:24–43, is a long one, and includes a parable about wheat and weeds. I’ll get back to that.

The Beginning of Wisdom

NGC 4848 and other galaxies, image by Hubble/ESA.

Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. (Deuteronomy 6:13; Psalms 111:10; Sirach 1:12)

It’s also a gift of the Holy Spirit, along with wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, and piety. This sort of piety encourages devotion to God. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1831, 1850, 2084)

It’s not a sanctimonious holier-than-thou attitude. And that’s still more topics.

Pope Francis gave a pretty good explanation of the “fear of the Lord” a few years back:

“The gift of fear of the Lord, which we are speaking about today, concludes the series of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. It does not mean being afraid of God: we know well that God is Father, that he loves us and wants our salvation, and he always forgives, always; thus, there is no reason to be scared of him! Fear of the Lord, instead, is the gift of the Holy Spirit through whom we are reminded of how small we are before God and of his love and that our good lies in humble, respectful and trusting self-abandonment into his hands. This is fear of the Lord: abandonment in the goodness of our Father who loves us so much….”
(Francis I (June 11, 2014))

Fear of the Lord and Karaoke

Ever since the first humans preferred their own will to God’s, we’ve had relationship issues with the Almighty. It’s easy for us to be afraid of God, which isn’t the same as having “fear of the Lord.” (Catechism, 399)

The “fear of the Lord” we read about in Psalms 111:10; is reverence for God.

I’m supposed to recognize that God’s God, and I’m not: that I owe my continued existence to God. (Catechism, 2096–2097)

Fear of the Lord is not living in terror that God will caste me into an infernal karaoke bar because I like the ‘wrong’ kind of music. Or don’t get upset when a priest makes an out-of-season Gospel reference. Or whatever.

On the other hand, Hell, eternal separation from God, is real. So is Satan. At the end of all things, I’ll either willingly accept God: or not. (Catechism, 391–395, 1033–1037, 1849)

“Not,” in my considered opinion, is a daft option.

To Seek, Know, and Love God

My job is to seek, know, and love God.

I’m invited, along with everyone else, “to become, in the Holy Spirit, his adopted children and thus heirs of his blessed life.”
 (Catechism, Prologue, 1)

I should be learning to say four things to God: please; thank you; sorry; and I love you. That quartet isn’t my idea, by the way: a new priest in our parishes talked about that learning curve a half-dozen years ago.

We start out by asking God for help, should follow that up with thanks, and — if we’re realistic about our decisions — tell God ‘I’m sorry’ when we mess up. Happily, repentance is an option. (Catechism, 1422–1449)

Telling God “I love you” is something I’m working on, and probably will be for the rest of my life. That’s — what else? — another topic for another post.

Wheat and Weeds

The “weeds” in Matthew 13:24–43 are (probably) a specific plant: darnel.

It’s poison, either because of the plant’s alkaloids, or a fungus that lives in the seed head. Darnel is sometimes called false wheat, because it looks almost exactly like wheat until the weed’s ear appears.

The parable of the wheat and weeds is one of the more comforting passages for me, since I’ve looked an awful lot like a weed at times.

Or I could see myself as the paragon of all virtues, and everyone who’s not like me as weeds ready for an overdue weed-whacking. That alternative strikes me as a really bad idea.

I figure it’s better to let “terrorist organization” labels, crackpot COVID-19 conspiracy theories and life’s other annoyances remind me to check my own attitudes and actions.

Remembering that “those who are just must be kind,” and applying the principles outlined in Matthew 7:1–5? It’s not easy, but sure beats the alternatives.

More:

Vaguely-related posts:

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New COVID-19 Vaccines: Goodish News, Ethical Issues

Posted on December 16, 2020 by Brian H. Gill

The first shipments of COVID-19 mRNA vaccine arrived in America this week.

Folks are getting immunized, including health care workers.

I think that’s good news.

But the pandemic isn’t over yet. This year’s New Year’s Eve street party in NYC’s Times Square will be virtual. Folks will, barring miracles, keep catching COVID-19 and occasionally dying as a result.

But we now have vaccines that should give an increasing number of folks at least limited immunity.

As I see it, all that’s good news.

I’d prefer focusing exclusively on the ‘up’ side.

But there’s an ethical problem with the new vaccines. I’ll be talking about that, and why getting immunized when it’s my turn still makes sense.

COVID-19 Vaccines and a Little History

Ethical Concerns

National Institutes of Health Stem Cell Information page.However, the three COVID-19 vaccines available in my country are bloodstained. Metaphorically.

Somewhere along the line in their development, an innocent person was killed and broken down for parts. That’s a bad idea and nobody should have done it.

But someone did.

Here’s what I read Monday, December 14:

“U.S. Bishop Chairmen for Pro-Life and Doctrine Address Ethical Concerns on the New COVID-19 Vaccines”
Public Affairs Office, USCCB (United States Conference of Catholic Bishops) (December 14, 2020)

“On December 14, Bishop Kevin C. Rhoades of Fort Wayne-South Bend, chairman of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops’ (USCCB) Committee on Doctrine, and Archbishop Joseph F. Naumann of Kansas City in Kansas, chairman of the USCCB’s Committee on Pro-Life Activities, issued a statement on the new COVID-19 vaccines. In their statement, the bishops address the moral concerns raised by the fact that the three vaccines that appear to be ready for distribution in the United States all have some connection to cell lines that originated with tissue taken from abortions….”

The USCCB Public Affairs Office statement includes a link to a longer, and somewhat more detailed, discussion of the issue.

That was a longer read.

But the full statement included details that help explain why the bishops aren’t condemning all COVID-19 vaccines. And why they’re not praising them, either.

HEK 293 Donor: RIP

An HEK 293 variant: 293FT cells.(Very) briefly, the three COVID-19 vaccines we’re looking at are from Pfizer, Moderna and AstraZeneca.

All three used the HEK 293 cell line.

Someone in the Netherlands, I don’t know who, had an unwanted preborn girl killed in the early 1970s. In 1973, biologist Frank Graham modified cells that had been harvested from her body.1

The HEK 293 donor would be in her late 40s now, if she hadn’t been killed.

But she’s dead, and now we’re dealing with an unpleasant reality.

Anyway, neither Pfizer nor Moderna used HEK 293 while designing, developing or producing their vaccines. They did, however, use HEK 293 cells in a confirmatory test.

I don’t see that as good news, but I think the USCCB committee is right. The connection with an early-1970s Netherlands homicide is remote.

On the other hand, AstraZeneca’s researchers used HEK 293 cells while designing, developing and producing their vaccine — and for confirmatory testing.

I think the USCCB bishops are right. Pfizer and Moderna testing their vaccines with cells from a murdered child is ethically dubious.

But the Pfizer and Moderna vaccines’ development “…is very remote from the initial evil of the abortion….” (“…Regarding the New COVID-19 Vaccine,” USCCB (December 14, 2020))

The AstraZeneca COVID-19 vaccine? Not so much:

“The AstraZeneca vaccine should be avoided if there are alternatives available….”
“…Regarding the New COVID-19 Vaccine”
Chairmen of the Committee on Doctrine and the Committee on Pro-Life Activities, USCCB (December 14, 2020)

Options and “The Mark of the Beast”

Willowbrook State School.I would prefer living in a world where the HEK 293 donor had not been killed, and Dr. Mengele had not made use of specimens available at Auschwitz.

It would be nice if Doctors Clark and Parran had decided against using bottom-run Americans as guinea pigs in the Tuskegee experiments.

And I think that folks running Willowbrook State School should not have used their mentally disabled subjects in a hepatitis experiment.2

But I live in a world where all that happened.

I can’t change what has been done. I can, however, decide how I deal with today’s reality. And how I respond to the USCCB’s statement.

One option is complaining. Or invoking “the mark of the beast.”

Responses to “U.S. Bishops’ Pro-Life Chairmen Addresses Ethical Concerns on the New COVID-19 Vaccines – FULL TEXT,” Catholic News World (December 14, 2020)

“So the Catholic Church is telling us to take this vaccine which is the mark of the beast. No, not happening and may God have mercy on you!”
(Anonymous, comment on the CNW article)

“Ethics, how about morals? So they investigate these vaccines, but, do not investigate the Covid itself and the use of masks. The possibility exists that it has a 99.7% recovery rate. They say nothing about that or the suppression of therapeutics on twitter and Facebook. The UCSSB lacks investigative backbone.”
([name redacted] from my social media feeds)

I’d rather avoid both bandwagons. Although maybe I’d get more attention by demonizing someone. Or supporting a popular conspiracy theory. (October 21, 2020; July 23, 2020)

Statistics and Death

CDC: Clinical Resources for Each COVID-19 Vaccine.There’s a little truth to the “99.7% recovery rate” assertion.

India’s case fatality rate (CFR), for example, is only 2.3%. For every 1,000 folks in that country known to have had COVID-19, only 23 have died.

Singapore is doing even better. Their CFR has been only 0.05%. That’s 0.51 deaths per 100,000 COVID-19 cases.

America’s CFR in August was 3.3%. Probably. That’s better than an overall average of 4.24% in 82 countries, territories, and areas. I figure we’re doing pretty well. Not as well as Singapore or India. But, hey, we’re a little better than average.

Maybe. The statistics are controversial. CFR isn’t infection fatality ratio, IFR, and I gather that both terms are controversial, too.

I figure the bottom line is that most folks who get COVID-19 recover. On average, only four or five of every hundred die from the disease.

Some, maybe 10% to 20%, don’t die; but don’t recover, either. That still leaves something like 75% of folks who catch COVID-19 getting better. This pandemic is survivable.3

Even at my age, with my medical issues, I might survive the pandemic bug. But I still think vaccinations are a good idea.

Love, Neighbors and the Common Good

The Masked Minnesotan.That’s because I think the American bishops are right.

Acting as if I love my neighbor is a good idea.

“…’In view of the gravity of the current pandemic and the lack of availability of alternative vaccines, the reasons to accept the new COVID-19 vaccines from Pfizer and Moderna are sufficiently serious to justify their use, despite their remote connection to morally compromised cell lines.
“‘Receiving one of the COVID-19 vaccines ought to be understood as an act of charity toward the other members of our community. In this way, being vaccinated safely against COVID-19 should be considered an act of love of our neighbor and part of our moral responsibility for the common good.’…”
(“U.S. Bishop Chairmen … Ethical Concerns on the New COVID-19 Vaccines”
Public Affairs Office, USCCB (December 14, 2020))

This ‘love my neighbor’ and ‘common good’ thing may sound like something from the Sixties, and that’s another topic.

But acting as if my neighbor matters, and seeing everyone as my neighbor, is not a new idea. (Matthew 5:43–44, 22:36–40; Mark 12:28–31; Luke 6:31 10:25–27, 29–37)

Working for the common good isn’t limited to acting as if I value the life and health of my neighbors. But that’s in the mix. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, One/Two/Article 2 Participation in Social Life/II: The Common Good, 2258–2317)

Remembering, and Learning From, Our Past

Ideally, the HEK 293 cell line wouldn’t exist.

Dr. Mengele wouldn’t have sliced, diced and dosed prisoners.

The U.S. Public Health Service wouldn’t have lied to sharecroppers.

Mentally disabled kids at Willowbrook wouldn’t have been given hepatitis.

But it happened.

Refusing to use medical technology that was tested with the HEK 293 donor’s cell line won’t unkill her. Burying research done by Mengele and company won’t help their victims.

But maybe, if we let ourselves remember atrocities, we can learn from them. The Nuremberg Code and Declarations of Geneva and Helsinki suggest that this is possible. And that’s yet another topic, for another day.

First Vaccines Arrive: “…Healing is Coming”


(From Getty Images, via BBC News, used w/o permission.)
(“Special shipping containers are being used to distribute the vaccine across the US”
(BBC News)

“Covid-19: First vaccine given in US as roll-out begins”
BBC News (December 24, 2020)

“The first Covid-19 vaccination in the United States has taken place, as the country gears up for its largest ever immunisation campaign.
“‘I feel like healing is coming,’ said New York nurse Sandra Lindsay – among the first health workers given the jab.
“On Monday, as the US death toll topped 300,000, 150 hospitals across the country were to receive millions of vials of the Pfizer/BioNTech vaccine.
“The US vaccination programme aims to reach 100 million people by April….
“…The Pfizer/BioNTech vaccine received emergency-use authorisation from the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) on Friday….”

I gather that folks who need immunization most, health care workers and oldsters living in nursing homes, are getting the vaccines first.

Makes sense to me.

I still haven’t learned when priorities and practicality will bring COVID-19 vaccinations to folks like me. My guess is that it won’t be until April, 2021. Give or take a few months.

But, as I said earlier, that’s okay. I’m willing to wait for my turn. (December 5, 2020)

The Inevitable Link Lists (and resources, too)

From the USCCB


(From USCCB, used w/o permission.)

“Resources for Catholics During COVID-19

“Dioceses, parishes, and Catholics at home have been severely impacted by the COVID-19 pandemic. While stay-at-home orders are starting to be relaxed, there are till many restrictions on Mass participation, and access to other sacraments and parish activities is still limited in many areas of the U.S. Below are lists of resources for Mass, prayers, catechetical material, and reflections to help us all during this trying time….”

There’s a mess of resources here. I’d be talking about them today, but I didn’t find this home page & links until I’d nearly finished this post. Maybe I’ll get to them another day.

And here are links to the recent PR release and full statement:

My stuff

Stuff I’ve written that’s at least vaguely related:

1 COVID-19 vaccines, background:

2 A regrettable legacy:

3 Numbers, uncertainty and controversy:

Posted in Being Catholic, Discursive Detours, Science News | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Joy and Shadow, Free Will and Something Silly

Posted on December 12, 2020 by Brian H. Gill

Advent started November 29, a couple Sundays back. It’s my faith’s Christmas warmup. I’ll get back to that.

'Deck the aisles with panicked shoppers....' 'The Brilliant Mind of Edison Lee.' (November 26, 2017)My culture’s Christmas begins after Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade.

Our traditionally-frenzied holiday shopping season does, at any rate.

This year’s liturgical Christmas season runs from Christmas to January 10, 2021. I’ll get more than the traditional 12 days of Christmas, which doesn’t strike me as a problem.

I’ll probably get back to Macy’s holiday slogan — “Love. Give. Believe.” — on another day. Along with what C. S. Lewis called “the commercial racket.”

“Three things go by the name of Christmas. One is a religious festival. … The second (it has complex historical connections with the first, but we needn’t go into them) is a popular holiday, an occasion for merry-making and hospitality. … But the third thing called Christmas is unfortunately everyone’s business.
“I mean of course the commercial racket….”
(“What Christmas Means to Me,” C. S. Lewis (1957) via The Trustees of the Estate of C.S. Lewis and Tim Collinses/University of Rochester)

My attitude toward the glitz and plastic pomp is somewhere between “‘Bah!’ … ‘Humbug!'” and ‘more julekaga, please!’ Although minimizing julekaga is a good idea. It’s pronounced yulekaga, and that’s another topic.

Today I’ll be talking about Advent’s serious side: a song that’s been sung at funerals, a Nativity painting’s crucifix, introspection and shortcomings.

Also ♪ magi on Segways with Amazon cartons. ♪ (Try singing it to the tune of “My Favorite Things,” from “Sound of Music:” The bit that goes “Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens….”)

Anyway, these are today’s headings:

“Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel” — Plainsong, Burial Chant and Advent Hymn

'Veni Emmanuel,' in 'Bone Jesu dulcis cunctis.'
(From Bibliothèque Nationale de Franc, via hymnologyarchive.com, used w/o permission.)
(Part of “Veni Emmanuel,” in “Bone Jesu dulcis cunctis.” (1500 or thereabouts))

European monks added “Veni, veni, Emmanuel” to their pre-Christmas plainsongs a dozen centuries back. Give or take a bit. Probably.

The first three words, “come, come Emmanuel,” sum up what Advent is about. We’re looking forward to our Lord’s coming.

The earliest Latin text I know of popped up in 18th-century Germany. It’s been translated into German and English several times since then.

A German hymnologist published a Latin version in 1844.

An Anglican priest translated the German-Latin text into English, which got the lyrics started in my native language. They’ve been rewritten and expanded several times.

A German Englishman named Thomas Helmore put English lyrics to a singable tune. Helmore said the tune was in a French missal he’d found in the Lisbon National Library. Maybe that’s so. But researchers didn’t discover which missal he’d read.

That encouraged speculation that Helmore wrote the tune himself.

Fast-forward to 1966. An Augustinian canoness found our ‘oh come Emmanuel’ tune in the French National Library. It was in “Bone Jesu dulcis cunctis,” a 15th-century compilation of processional chants for burials.

These days, we call the tune “Veni Emmanuel.” Those of us who are into music, music history and Latin, anyway.1

Heaven’s Peace: a Work in Progress

A fair number of us sing “Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel” with these extra lyrics:

“…Bid envy, strife and quarrels cease;
Fill the whole world with heaven’s peace.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.”

Envy, strife and quarrels obviously haven’t ceased. Heaven’s peace doesn’t fill the world. I’d like to say it fills me, but I can’t. Not without offending truth — and God — which is a kind of trouble I don’t need. Don’t need more of, that is.

Happily, noticing when I offend truth and God is an option. So is seeking forgiveness. More about that later.

Advent: Ordinary Folks, Unique Events


(From Lorenzo Lotto, via The National Gallery, used w/o permission.)
(“The Magnificat® Advent Companion,” 2020, left; and Lotto’s 1523 “The Nativity.”)

My parish’s Christian Mothers/Catholic Women and Catholic United Financial make “The Magnificat® Advent Companion” available to people like me. Buying the booklets in bulk brings the unit price down considerably.

The booklet’s cover has a cropped image of Lorenzo Lotto’s 1523 “The Nativity” on its cover. The whole picture is inside. I’ve seen it called “Adoration of the Christ Child” — the painting, not the booklet. I’ll use its shorter name.

Most nativity pictures I’ve seen look more or less like the Advent Companion’s cover. Jesus is an infant in a wooden box. Mary and Joseph kneel or stand nearby.

Something Odd

There’s something odd in the background of Lotto’s “The Nativity,” over Joseph’s shoulder: a crucifix.

Artists have considerable leeway in what’s appropriate in a Nativity scene. My guess is that there’s an informal consensus that the picture’s tone should be dignified, with Jesus, Mary and Joseph front and center.

Canon law says Christmas and Epiphany are feast days, but I haven’t found rules about what must and must not be in Nativity scenes.

Which doesn’t mean the rules don’t exist.

If they do, folks who relish rigidly regimented regulations regarding ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph’ Nativity scenes may get conniptions over the muddled mobocracy of manger art. That’s yet another topic, and arguably ample alliteration for now.

Anyway, what about that crucifix?

It’s a reminder of our Lord’s messy and painful death. As such, it clashes with the conventionally cute winged trio singing and winging overhead.

The tiny trio, by the way, are ancient artistic conventions rebooted in the Renaissance. Donatello’s generally given credit for European religious art’s tradition of depicting cherubim as putti: pudgy little boys with wings.2

O Hipster Night

'Modern Nativity' by the Wright brothers of San Diego, Casey and Corey. (2016)
(From Casey and Corey Wright, via San Diego Union Tribune, used w/o permission.)
(A trendy Nativity scene, from San Diego’s Wright brothers.)

Then there’s 2016’s weird “Modern Nativity” scene, complete with solar panels and Segway-mounted magi.

It’s the sort of thing I might have dreamed up, but didn’t, in my college days. Even if I had, maybe I lacked the needed entrepreneurial qualities. And that’s yet again another topic.

Where was I? Plainsongs. Advent. Lotto’s “The Nativity.” Weirdness in 2016. Right.

I wouldn’t pay $130 for the “Modern Nativity” set, even if we had the money. Disposable income. Whatever.

But I probably wouldn’t call it “sacrilegious,” as some folks apparently have. That said, I see their point. I think Jesus, Mary and Joseph are holy persons. The “Modern Nativity” arguably falls short of displaying them with dignity.

On the other hand, the San Diego Wright brothers’ “Modern Nativity” decoration is well-crafted. I think it looks less tacky than some seasonal ‘Jesus junk’ that’s not denounced.

I also think The Catholic League’s Bill Donohue was right.

“…Those who want a new twist on the traditional crèche can buy a 10-piece Hipster Nativity scene that features Joseph sporting a lumberjack beard taking a selfie; baby Jesus and a peace-flashing Mary, holding a Starbucks cup, are included. The three wise men show up on Segways holding Amazon boxes full of presents; there is also a cow draped in a sweater with a ‘100% Organic’ seal on it.
“This depiction is more trendy than it is offensive….”
(“Hijacking Christmas Turns Ugly,” Bill Donohue, The Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights (2016))

His response surprised me a bit. The Catholic League has sometimes struck me as a trifle over-zealous. Sort of like a chihuahua watch dog: admirable intentions with a hair trigger.

Illustrators and Illustrations

Guido Reni's 'Saint Joseph.' (1640-1642)Lotto’s two adults — I’m back to that painting now — have colorful outfits and all three look European.

So do the folks in most religious art I see.

I don’t have a problem with that. Partly because my recentish ancestors came from Europe and most folks I where I live with look a little like me.

Besides, I understand that nativity pictures and other religious illustrations are just that: illustrations. Their job is showing readers and viewers what the text is about.

Late medieval and Renaissance artists almost certainly knew that folks living around the eastern Mediterranean didn’t look Germanic. Or even French.

My guess is that they’d still have made the Holy Family look like their neighbors and patrons. Or enough like them to seem familiar. That’s because Advent and Christmas stories involve ordinary folks and anything-but-ordinary events.

“Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping the night watch over their flock.
“The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were struck with great fear.”
(Luke 2:8–9)

From Xinxiang Series of Biblical Illustrations, Catholic University of Peking; via RBSC at ND, University of Notre Dame.One way to illustrate that contrast is having the ordinary folks look, well, ordinary.

For artists living in Europe, that means showing Jesus, Mary, Joseph and all with European features. And, sometimes, wearing contemporary clothes in familiar settings.

At least some illustrators at the other end of Eurasia have our Lord looking like someone who’s not overly out of place in their neighborhood.3 Most likely for the same reason that Jesus looks European in European religious art.

Again, I think Mary and Joseph are holy people. And Jesus is unique. But they’re also ordinary folks: on everyday economic, political and social scales.

Joy and Shadow

A crucifix on an open Bible (Matthew 6). From James Chan, via Wikimedia Commons, used w/o permissionAnd I still haven’t talked about that crucifix over Joseph’s shoulder.

Many Nativity scenes get along without a reminder of our Lord’s exquisitely unpleasant death.

Displaying a dead body clashes with my culture’s traditional “mistletoe and holly” holiday theme.

“Oh, by gosh, by golly
It’s time for mistletoe and holly
Tasty pheasants, Christmas presents
Countrysides covered with snow….”
(“Mistletoe and Holly,” Dok Stanford, Hank Sanicola, Frank Sinatra (1957))

Make that clashes with contemporary culture’s holiday theme. Holly, at least, dovetails nicely with both Christmas and crucifixes. But I’ll leave symbolism and Druids for some other time.

Getting back to “The Magnificat® Advent Companion,” its opening essay discusses Lotto’s “The Nativity” crucifix.

“…The shadow of the cross colors each chapter of the Christmas mystery. The joyful event of the Incarnation brings sorrow to Saint Joseph….”
(Christmas and the Cross, James Monti in “The Magnificat® Advent Companion” (2020))

Two millennia after our Lord’s birth, seeing the Incarnation and associated events as joyful is easy. Fairly easy. We know what happened after our Lord stopped being dead.

But two millennia back, in Judea? Remember, this wasn’t early 21st-century America. Rules and expectations were different.

Joseph knew that he wasn’t the father of Mary’s child.

His options weren’t palatable, since he was a “righteous man.” Which I am pretty sure doesn’t mean he was the sort of self-righteous, hidebound, bluenosed prig who helped make the Sixties possible.

Joseph’s Options

John William Waterhouse, 'The Annunciation.' (1914)Joseph could, legally, have denounced Mary as an adulteress. Then she would have been killed. Like I said, not palatable to someone who was righteous in a non-priggish sense.

Instead, Joseph decided to quietly divorce her.

I’ve read but not confirmed that his decision would have subjected him to a little ribbing.

Folks would have reasonably assumed that Joseph and Mary had jumped the gun, after which Joseph got cold feet. But Mary would have lived.

That’s not what happened.

Joseph learned how Mary got pregnant, that the father is the Father, and that he’d been selected for a uniquely high-priority mission. (Matthew 1:18–25)

But, unlike several prophets, Joseph didn’t try to talk his way out of it. (December 4, 2016)

Neither did Mary, although she asked a reasonable question. Zachariah, maybe not so much. (December 7, 2018; December 18, 2016)

News: Not Entirely Bad; Unsettling; and Disbelieved

Adam Elsheimer's 'The Flight into Egypt,' (ca. 1605)Everything that could go wrong didn’t quite happen on that first Christmas.

Mary and Joseph arrived in Bethlehem.

They even found a place to stay in the overbooked town. Granted, they shared accommodations with livestock and our Lord’s first cradle was a feeding trough. But they apparently had a roof over their heads.

Later, when they brought Jesus to the temple for consecration, they heard Simeon’s unsettling prophecy.

Three magi showing up wasn’t bad news.

But the foreign VIPs had unknowingly tipped Herod off that a king had been born, which led to unpleasantness. Herod the Great, following his usual threat-response protocol, sent enforcers to Bethlehem.

The good news was that Joseph got a heads-up about the threat. Not waiting for sunrise, he took Jesus and Mary and headed for Egypt.

The bad news? Herod’s enforcers killed Bethlehem’s boys. Those who were at or under age two. Which, I gather, is a non-event that never happened for many contemporary scholars.

They’ve got a point.

Herod, History and Reputation

Israel Museum's model of the Second Temple, as renovated by Herod the Great.
(From Ariely, via Wikimedia Commons, used w/o permission.)
(Model of the Second Temple, after Herod the Great’s makeover.)

Herod the Great saw to it that his administration’s glorious architectural achievements were well-documented.

Judging from his official records and some 1st-century accounts, he was a Roman client king who got things done. He was a brilliant statesman and diplomat, forging a new aristocracy while maintaining beneficial ties with Rome.

And he exercised the practical wisdom of killing anyone who might threaten him. Including a respectable fraction of his own family.4

How, today’s scholars apparently ask, could such an obviously capable and sagacious ruler possibly have done what Matthew’s second chapter says he did?

Particularly when Herod the Great’s chroniclers didn’t mention the botched hit.

There’s more to the ‘non-event that never happened’ position than that. But I very strongly suspect that lack of self-incriminating documentation, plus Herod the Great’s building programs, make seeing him in a dubious light difficult.

And I’m not surprised that killing maybe up to 20 no-account kids in a backwater podunk was omitted from official Herodian records. Particularly since the target escaped.

And the era’s chroniclers focused on the rich and famous. Sort of like today’s headlines.

Besides, 19th and 20th century scholarship includes proclamations that Homer wasn’t Homer, that Shakespeare didn’t write Shakespeare,5 and I’d better get back on-topic.

Fa-La-La and Free Will, Responsibility and Reconciliation

Walt Kelly's Pogo characters and 'Deck Us All With Boston Charlie.' (1961)Our Feast of the Holy Innocents, three days after Christmas, is hardly in the season’s festive “deck us all with boughs of holly” spirit. Much less “deck us all with Boston Charlie.”

But, fa-la-la-friendly or not, it’s there.

So: how come Lotto’s “The Nativity” includes a crucifix and I celebrate an almost-forgotten butchery while many folks are prepping for New Year’s Eve?

And, assuming that Shakespeare wrote Shakespeare and Homer is Homer, how could a smart man like Herod the Great kill a bunch of anonymous kids and some of his own family?

That question and others like it has engaged some of this era’s greatest minds.

Kevin: “Yes, why does there have to be evil?”
Supreme Being: “I think it has something to do with free will.”
(“Time Bandits,” Monty Python (1981) via imdb.com)

“Very Good” – – –

God’s review of this universe is glowing.

“God looked at everything he had made, and found it very good. Evening came, and morning followed-the sixth day.”
(Genesis 1:31)

So how come people behave badly?

Maybe it’s because we have rules. We’re crazy because the trammeling conventions of society stifle our natural goodness.

Or maybe it’s because we’re bad-to-the-bone. This view’s religious version seems to imply that the Almighty blundered by creating an utterly depraved human race. I’ve never heard someone come right out and say it that way.

I’m over-simplifying both views. And they’re not, by a long shot, the only explanations for the mess we’re in.

– – – But Wounded

As a Catholic, I’m obliged to think that we’re basically good. All of us. Each of us. And that there’s something wrong with us.

I might think this was so, even if I wasn’t Catholic. But having millennia of accumulated wisdom to draw on has advantages.

As I see it, we were and are created in God’s image. We were and are very good. Basically. (Genesis 1:27, 31; Catechism of the Catholic Church, 405)

But the first of us decided that their impulses outranked God’s rule. We’ve been dealing with consequences of that bad choice ever since. (Genesis 3:1–13; Catechism, 396-409)

Maybe that seems unfair. But I figure that free will wouldn’t be free if God scurried around, undoing every daft decision I made. Free, maybe, but pointless.

As it is, We make choices, deciding to help or hurt ourselves or others. (Catechism, 365, 1730-1742)

If I decide to do something, it gets done: within the limits of my nature. I can even decide not to decide, which is still a decision of sorts.

Our nature hasn’t changed. We’re still basically good. But we’re wounded. We still know, at some level, how we should be have. We’ve even got our old job: taking care of this place. But doing what’s right is harder than it needed to be. (Genesis 2:15–17, Genesis 3:1–13; Catechism, 397-409, 1776-1794, 1849-1869)

Like I said: we’re still here and in charge, and we’re dealing with consequences.

Examination of Conscience: Getting Ready for Reconciliation

Since I’m human, I have within me an ember of the fire that forged the universe. We all do.

That sounds like the Victorian ‘lords of the universe’ attitude that made a mess we’ll be cleaning up for centuries. But it’s not.

Being made in the image of God means I have dominion over, and responsibility for, my share of this world. And for how I treat folks around me. That’s scary. (November 17, 2017; August 20, 2017; December 11, 2016)

That’s also why my parish’s Advent Companion booklet has an examination of conscience before a DYI Advent wreath blessing.

The booklet’s ‘examination’ is an eight-point list that starts with —

“For the times when I forget that I need a Savior, and arrogantly conceive of myself as sufficient to myself.”
(“The Magnificat® Advent Companion”)

Each item ends with “Come, Lord Jesus!”

Examinations of conscience aren’t just an ‘Advent’ thing.

They are, or should be, how I get ready for the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation: what my culture calls Confession. (Catechism, 1422-1484)

I don’t enjoy reviewing my thoughts and actions, looking for misdeeds. Sins. But it’s like flossing and brushing my teeth. I’m better off if I do it than if I don’t. Happily, there’s a mess of resources out there; including these.

Failing to Love

“Sins?” I’d better clarify that.

Some actions are wrong, regardless of circumstances. Like murder, deliberately killing an innocent person. (Catechism, 1447)

Others, like sticking out my tongue, may be right during a dental exam, maybe-wrong when talking to someone, and quite often neutral.

And, although no sin is a good idea, some sins are worse than others; which is why we talk about venial and mortal sin. We also sort them out by what we misuse, how we misuse things — it’s complicated. (Catechism, 1846-1869)

But in another way, it’s simple.

Sin is a failure to love. When I don’t love God and my neighbor, and see everyone as my neighbor, that’s when I sin. And “my neighbor” includes everyone. No exceptions. (Matthew 5:43–44, 22:36–40, Mark 12:28–31; Luke 10:25–37; Catechism, 1706, 1776, 1825, 1849-1851, 1955)

Sin is an offense against reason, truth and God. (Catechism, 1849-1850)

And, as long as I am alive, seeking forgiveness is an option. (Catechism, 827, 976-983, 1021-1037, 1042-1050)

Good News

That’s good news. Very good news.

And it’s possible because Mary said “let it be done.” And because Joseph did his job.

And most of all because our Lord carried a cross to Golgotha, died and — I’m getting ahead of the story.

A couple weeks from now, we’ll be celebrating our Lord’s arrival.

“The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were struck with great fear.
“The angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.
“For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Messiah and Lord.”
(Luke 2:9–11)

That, and what happened later, is the best news humanity’s ever had.

I’ve talked about that before. So has my late father-in-law:

1 Old song, new language:

2 A little background and a few rules:

3 “Distinctive” illustrations:

4 Herod the First and the importance of PR:

5 Shakespeare, Homer, Bacon and all that:

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Taking to the (Digital) Streets: Advent and Social Media

Posted on December 9, 2020 by Brian H. Gill

I still see the occasional “REPENT, THOU WRETCHED SINNER” stuff in my social media feeds. But I very strongly suspect that fire and brimstone fundraisers are passé, and have been for decades.

Maybe I’d get more attention if I ranted, raved and seethed with (self?) righteous anger about those sinners over there. You know the ones I mean: reprobates, rogues and rascals who aren’t like me.

Yeah. Maybe I could. And it would be a bad idea. I’m pretty sure the attention I’d get isn’t the sort I’d like. Not in the long run. And I’m quite sure that God wouldn’t appreciate my marketing efforts.

Bragging about not trying to scare folks silly wouldn’t be an improvement. So I avoid that as best I can. Bragging is a bad idea, and I shouldn’t do it. So is irony with intent to malign. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2481)

In any case, avoiding tryouts for ‘most annoying pest of the year’ is no virtue for me.

I don’t enjoy diatribes, faith-themed or otherwise.

I get angry easily enough. But I’ve learned that anger — or any other emotion — is a poor substitute for thinking.

There’s nothing wrong with emotions. They’re part of being human. But so is thinking. More accurately, thinking should be part of being human. I’ve got free will, so thinking is an option, not a hardwired response. (June 6, 2020)

Social Media

I moved to another social media network when Google+ stopped being for individuals and became a corporate service. That was around March, 2019.

My current online ‘front porch’ is MeWe. (mewe.com/i/briangill1) A prayer group I’d been with at Google+ moved there, which made picking a new service easier.

I chose it despite MeWe’s zealous emphasis on “privacy,” rather than because of it. Somewhere along the line, definitions of “privacy” and “anonymity” seem to have merged. And that’s another topic.

Anyway, I’ve been settling in at MeWe.

It’s pretty much just like Google+. Except for how its different. One of the differences is that there’s not quite so many crackpot religious posts during the Advent-Christmas and Easter seasons. Not that I’ve noticed, anyway.

Maybe it’s because I’ve become a trifle more circumspect over the years. Or haven’t been on MeWe long enough to attract faith-filled flakes. Or maybe MeWe is really good at keeping me anonymous, despite my efforts to be more than a mask in a crowd.

Whatever the explanations(s), I’m pretty sure it’s not an either-or situation. And I’m drifting off-topic. Or maybe not so much.

Doomscroll Not, Lest Thou Also Be Doomscrolled


(From CNS photo/Tyler Orsburn, used w/o permission.)

Something else I haven’t noticed on MeWe is folks saying they’re giving up social media for Lent. Or Advent. Or whatever. Maybe they have, and I didn’t notice.

Or maybe more non-crackpot Catholics are paying attention to advice like this:

Prepare the (digital) way of the Lord”
John Grosso, Catholic News Service (December 4, 2020)

“…How can we be the voice crying out in the wilderness when we can’t even leave our homes? Put simply: What can we do to prepare this Advent?
“The answer: We take to the (digital) streets….
“…In March, social media became a place to rally around our first responders and essential workers, to start fun trends and learn how to bake bread or whipped coffee.
“But as society realized we were in this for the long haul, our discourse on social media began to deteriorate into partisan bickering at its best and poisonous, threatening rhetoric at its worst.
“Catholics are not only not exempt from this, but in my experience, have been some of the worst offenders of it. That coupled with the practice of ‘doomscrolling’ (scrolling before bed obsessively on social media and bracing for bad news), has led many to abandon social media entirely….”

My experience hasn’t been like John Grosso.

At least partly, I figure, because I’m not John Grosso. He’s a professional with a successful and apparently conventional career.

I haven’t had a “career.” Maybe I could have pursued some identifiable occupation’s opportunities for progress and promotion. Or maybe not.

Even if I tried, I probably couldn’t do “conventional.” Not very well, anyway.

I have, however, kept learning. And getting better at writing, which I suppose is a career. Or can be.

Welcome to My Echo Chamber

Screenshot, trailer for Elia Kazan's 'Panic in the Streets' film. (1950) via Wikimedia Commons, used w/o permission.On the other hand, getting back to Mr. Grosso’s “… partisan bickering … and … threatening rhetoric…” — I’ve seen plenty of both in my corner of social media.

I haven’t noticed any viewpoint’s raging supporters gaining a significant lead in a ‘worst offenders’ contest.

On the other hand, I have noticed a few showcasing the other guy’s superabundance of hate. Sometimes in arguably-hateful screed. Alas! That’s nothing new.

Maybe I don’t see one side or another’s clear superiority in spitting venom because my interests are eclectic. Or unfocused. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“…The idea of an integrated education, based on the unity of knowledge grounded in truth, must be regained. It serves to counteract the tendency, so evident in contemporary society, towards a fragmentation of knowledge….”
(“Meeting with members of the academic community,” Apostolic Visit to the Czech Republic, Pope Benedict XVI (September 27, 2009))

I suspect that being interested in art, poetry, science, technology, faith and other stuff accounts for rants I see against conservatives, liberals, America’s top two political parties and folks with assorted faiths. Or lack of faith.

Small wonder my “echo chamber” is a trifle jumbled. (November 2, 2020)

But there’s an ‘up’ side. Now that the election’s winding down, I’m seeing fewer rants.

The Inevitable Links

This is where I put my links to allegedly-related posts. I’ll get to them, but first here’s what got me started writing about online privacy/anonymity, making sense and other options.

And I see that I didn’t get around to talking about St. Joseph and a dedicated year. Maybe next time. Or the time after that.

Now, finally, stuff I’ve written that’s not necessarily unrelated to this post:

Posted in Discursive Detours, Journal | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments