The tang of juniper, the dew-wet grassThat grabs your ankles, apples for the taking.The haze between the hills like smoke at Mass. The trees; His stretched arms aching. The flickering lamps, the fire, the curtains shut.We’ll watch TV, we’ll get the breakfast baking.We . . . . Continue Reading »
The Christmas angel in the window,a headless, legless mutilation,stands propped by a steel rod. She’s encased in tulle’s graceof white netting, goose feathers,and golden papier-mâché wings. Spray painted mannequin, hersilver skin will never knowthe feel of flesh. We can imagine how she fell . . . . Continue Reading »
To be a pilgrim is to be going somewhere. That somewhere is the Kingdom come among us at Christmas, and coming again in power and glory. Continue Reading »
If the Feast of the Holy Innocents has a moral meaning, it is this: God’s election of our suffering is always enfolded within the greater election of our ultimate joy. Continue Reading »
When the Catholic Archdiocese of D.C. proposed a Christmas-themed poster for public buses, the city rejected it—the ad was not secular enough. Continue Reading »
The old Christmas carols, by delighting in humble details, capture the paradox of the season: God’s power made incarnate in the womb of a lowly girl. Continue Reading »