the gift of the miraculous

“There are many going afar to marvel at the heights of mountains,
the mighty waves of the sea, the long courses of great rivers,
the vastness of the ocean, the movements of the stars, yet they leave themselves unnoticed!”
Saint Augustine

(The Mayor has discovered she can drive her limousine up under the kitchen table in order
to investigate what makes the table tick / Julie Cook / 2018)

I’ve been marveling recently.

Marveling at the development of a wee small person.
No surprise there I would imagine.

Yet this marveling of mine, however, goes beyond the mere grandmotherly marveling over the
leaps and strides made by a baby who appears to miraculously change and grow,
if not day by day, but more like minute by millisecond…

As each new moment brings a brand new advancement.

To roll,
to sit,
to pull,
to stand,
to eat,
to chew,
to taste,
to utter sounds,
to express likes and dislikes…
to demonstrate joy and anguish,
to recognize pain and self-satisfaction.

The discoveries made of both self and surroundings are each incredible to behold.

Quite amazing really.

I think back to the time when I was once a new parent myself.

I was so caught up in what that responsibility entailed…
coupled with my working outside of the home while just trying to get us all from one day
to the next, in one safe piece…
so much so that all of that overrode my ability to actually marvel.

Of course, there were glimpses and revelations that would leave me without words but life
would demand its way…leaving me running at such a frenetic pace that basking in the
minute by minute miracles was only afforded in increments of breaths.
Life called for a family to step up to the plate and I had to answer…
no luxury found for stopping to marvel…albeit fleetingly.

It is only now in my older age…an age that gives way to both collected knowledge and wisdom,
that I can thankfully step back from the moment while blessedly stopping to take it all in.

And I am left speechless.

What we take for granted, or rather what we merely assume as we are just too busy to
acknowledge anything else, is truly nothing less than spectacular.

And so no, I am not the first nor will I be the last grandparent to marvel over a grandchild…

And yes, there have been countless numbers of psychologists, anthropologists, sociologists,
doctors, and psychiatrists over the past millennium who have all closely
studied child development…

So this marveling of mine, as it were, is really nothing new nor even very special…

But…

This marveling, this wonderment, of which I speak is not found in the science of
human development…
It is not found in the measurements of statistics or in averages…
It is not found in numbers or sequential advancements…
But rather it is found in that which makes no sense…
found in that which is beyond comprehension.

Because what I am currently witnessing taking place, day by day, breath by breath,
within one small person, over the course of these past nine months, is nothing less than
miraculous.

So I suppose we could say that her first nine months were hidden from view…
yet were no less amazing.

The fact is that I have been given the opportunity of actually viewing the past nine months
a bit more up close and personal as those first nine months were watched not only by doctors
but moment by moment by the One who breathes life into all that is…

I suppose we could say she has actually lived both seen and unseen now for 18 months…
all of which have been cemented in my heart.

And so as the calendar prepares to give way to a new season, we find ourselves standing
before the door of the impending season of Advent.

A season that brings humankind together–
offering the heightened sense of anticipation as we prepare to both watch and wait…

Is it, therefore, a coincidence that as I watch and marvel over one growing baby,
God so chose the same miraculous gift of a baby?
A gift that has been freely given to anyone who is willing to receive it?

A baby who grew both seen and unseen…
A baby who was formed in the miraculous…
A baby whose family marveled, just as I marvel, over his milestones.

Explanations will always fall away when given the gift of the miraculous…

And Mary said,
“Behold, the bondslave of the Lord; may it be done to me according to your word.”
And the angel departed from her.
Luke 1:38

desire of the soul

“[O Lord,] You grasp my soul, and topple my enemies with it.
And what is our soul?
A splendid weapon it may be, long, sharp, oiled,
and coruscating with the light of wisdom as it is brandished.
But what is this soul of ours worth?
What is it capable of, unless God holds it and fights with it?
Any sword, however beautifully made,
lies idle if there is no warrior to take it up…
So God does whatever He wishes with our soul.
Since it is in His hand,
it is His to use as He will.”
Saint Augustine of Hippo,
Exposition of Psalm 34

(detail of the painting Sant’Agostino by Antonello da Messina 1472, Italy)

So therefore…
if God does whatever He wishes with our soul…
whatever He pleases and whatever He desires…
then may my prayer be to you, dear Father in Heaven,
that I will always be at your disposal…
that I may be forever willing and always at the ready
to be used by and for your very will….
Just as I may forever and always remain in the palm of your hand….
Amen

The Holy Innocents

When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi. Then what was said through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled:

“A voice is heard in Ramah,
weeping and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children
and refusing to be comforted,
because they are no more.”
Matthew 2:16-18 / Jeremiah 31:15

Nicolas Poussin / Massacre of the Innocents / 1628

Feast day of the Holy Innocents / December 27th

To what extent will a man go in order to preserve his realm, his kingdom, his leadership, his position, his way of life?
To such an extreme as to order the murder of his two sons?
Or perhaps the death of every male child two years of age and under?
Could a grown man fear the birth of a baby so much that he will do the unthinkable?

Who can even begin to imagine the incomprehensible moments that the mothers of Bethlehem and beyond experienced that fateful day as the guards came with their swords. This thought mingles with similar disheartening moments that we have witnessed more recently with the taking of many innocent young lives across the globe.

We are reminded today, the feast day of the Massacre of the Holy Innocents, of the fear which ran deep in Herod’s veins over the realization that there was one who would come to be much greater then he.
We are reminded of the price paid for Salvation’s birth.
We are reminded that great men can and do fear innocence.
We are reminded that the weak will be made strong.
May we be mindful this day of the price paid for our salvation, our hope, our lives. . .as it began over 2000 years ago with the loss of many small young lives. . .

“Blessed are you, Bethlehem in the land of Judah! You suffered the inhumanity of King Herod in the murder of your babes and thereby have become worthy to offer to the Lord a pure host of infants. In full right do we celebrate the heavenly birthday of these children whom the world caused to be born unto an eternally blessed life rather than that from their mothers’ womb, for they attained the grace of everlasting life before the enjoyment of the present. The precious death of any martyr deserves high praise because of his heroic confession; the death of these children is precious in the sight of God because of the beatitude they gained so quickly. For already at the beginning of their lives they pass on. The end of the present life is for them the beginning of glory. These then, whom Herod’s cruelty tore as sucklings from their mothers’ bosom, are justly hailed as “infant martyr flowers”; they were the Church’s first blossoms, matured by the frost of persecution during the cold winter of unbelief.

— St. Augustine