Today begins the lunar new year in China -- to be more exact, “The Year of the Snake.” The title for this entry is what they are saying in the Philippines (where the occasion is known as "Bagong Taong Tsino"), as well as in any country with a large Chinese population, not to mention Chinatowns all over the world.
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My beloved Celia is one-eighth Cantonese, and so the above title is the traditional greeting in that language, as opposed to the more common Mandarin, so the former is the one I'd hear around the house, as opposed to the latter. Meanwhile, learn more than you could possibly want to know about the occasion on Wikipedia.
I took my son Paul to his first "dragon festival" in DC's Chinatown back in 1987. He was one and a half years old, and fit right in with his bright red snowsuit. Such would be the culmination of a fifteen-day celebration that begins today (or yesterday, depending on your side of the planet).
Oh, and there's one more thing.
The video clip at the top was taken at the National Building Museum back in 2007 with a phone camera. That was the Year of the Pig, but at least a dragon showed up. Obviously camera phones have come a long way since then, don't you think?
As this is published, the Honorable Donald John Trump is being sworn in as the Forty-Seventh President of the United States. Most of you will be glued to your screens to watch the formalities, even those who came from out of town to see it before it got moved indoors (for the first time since Reagan's second inauguration forty years earlier).
I remember the first time I met Donald Trump -- well, sort of.
Along the stretch of Pennsylvania Avenue, in Washington DC, is the Old Post Office and Clock Tower. Construction began in 1892, and was completed in 1899, and was the main post office in the Nation's capital until 1914. In recent years, after being saved from near destruction, the government made numerous attempts to find a sustaining purpose for the building. None seemed to work.
Then in 2013, Donald Trump wanted a hotel in the heart of the city. And he wanted it to make one out of that historic building.
But first, he had to go through a government agency known as the General Services Administration (GSA), which is the building manager, purchasing agent, and IT acquisition manager of the Federal government. It is also where I worked for more than forty years before my retirement in July of 2022.
No, I've never mentioned before, in public social media, where I worked in the federal government. Yes, because I'm retired, it can now be told.
I was with the communications staff of GSA. By the early 2010s, I had already transitioned from graphic design and publishing to video production and photography. The leasing of the historic building to "DJT Holdings LLC" was to be highlighted by a grand ceremony involving the turning over of the keys. After spending over an hour convincing a bunch of rent-a-cops that we belonged there, we started setting up cameras and microphones and the whole nine yards. It was a hot summer day, which didn't make it any easier.
As preparations began, there he was along the mezzanine, speaking with three of the men for whom I worked, all of whom stood there, as mesmerized as I might have been. There I saw a man, the author of "The Art of the Deal" and as big as life, a man sure of his destiny in life, a destiny that called to him to grab unto himself that which was his. I never was impressed with his television appearances on "The Apprentice" or anywhere else, but seeing him there was enough to convince me, that yes, he was larger than life.
I operated the camera in front of the podium. I also did the editing of the video you see here, and worked with Judy, who did the voiceover, and with whom I got it uploaded to the server just before the deadline.
Fast forward to 2016.
The race was between Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton. I didn't care for either of them. A wise priest told me that "the lesser of two evils is still an evil." And after years of choosing between an unsuitable candidate, and an uninspiring candidate, I was considering staying away from the polls that year, abstaining from the first presidential election since I was eligible to vote in one in 1976.
It so happens that the GSA, however obscure to those not on the federal payroll, has a little-known but very critical role during the change of the executive office of the President. After an election, the Administrator of General Services has the power to determine, as a matter of statutory law, and in advance of formal determination by the Electoral College, the presumptive victor of the presidential election, followed by the handing over of any funds or facilities necessary for the transition to complete its ... well, transitioning.
I was a graphic designer (or "Visual Information Specialist GS-1084") for most of my career, beginning in December of 1980. After completing diploma studies for Web Design and Interactive Media at the Art Institute of Washington from 2004 to 2009, I learned that my agency did not require an additional web designer after all (so I didn't complain that they paid for most of it). Meanwhile, I learned that animation software (Adobe After Effects) was very similar to video editing software (Final Cut Pro, later Adobe Premiere Pro). I had also studied photography in college, so that was my way into a new field. Eventually, I was transferred to Video Production (as an "Audiovisual Production Specialist GS-1071").
My director assigned me to be vetted by the US Secret Service, and I had access to the secured wing of our building that was used by the Transition. I was told to wear a suit every day (which I would have done anyway). I had to have special identification card to wear, opposite the agency credentials, to wear within the secure area, and to hide the minute we left said area, so as to avoid surprise inquiries from the press (and until then, admonished only to say "no comment").
One of my first assignments was to photograph the provisional office spaces for the President-Elect, the Vice President-Elect, and the "First Spouse" and "Second Spouse." Yes, they each got their own, whether they used them or not. During this time, I was given my own personal Secret Service agent. His name was Steve, he wore tactical gear, and he carried a really big gun.
The Vice President-elect and his wife eventually used their offices. The other couple, not so much.
The President-elect must appoint several thousand men and women to various policy positions throughout the executive branch. The key apppintees -- those who would head the various cabinet departments and agencies -- must be approved by the Congress. Their previous official portraits might contain backdrops that render them unsuitable, so they must have new ones, with only the American flag in the background. That's where my director and I came in.
And so, I got to meet some of the key appointments, at times even being practically alone in the room with them.
Among the first was South Carolina Governor Nimarata Nikki Randhawa Haley, aka Nikki Haley, as Ambassador-designate to the United Nations. She was the most distant of all of them -- my director took care of her, while I adjusted the lighting -- and she had the largest entourage of all of them, at least three staff members, and two plainclothes South Carolina state troopers. The police guys were pretty cool, the others eager to please en route to the UN. But to her credit, shw was also the most photogenic -- my director said she practically took her own photo.
I did the official photos of so many of them, but a few out of all of them were memorable.
There was General John Francis Kelly, USMC, as Secretary-designate of Homeland Security (later White House Chief of Staff). He noticed the Eagle Scout insignia on my suit lapel -- yes, I made a point of wearing that one -- which he was quick to notice. He pointed to it and told me "that's a really big deal." After the session was done, he made his selection, and said it again: "That's a really big deal."
I didn't know what he meant at the time, but it occurred to me later. In some branches of the Armed Services, Eagle Scouts get a bump in rank by the time they complete basic training. And why? Because they know stuff before they even get off the bus; how to pack gear, how to hike, how to set up camp, how to track, how to cook meals in the field, how to shoot guns, how to treat basic wounds, how to carry the wounded, how to jump in water over one's head to save someone else's life, all the while risking one's life, and so on.
Yeah, that is "a really big deal." I thanked him for that.
Then there was Rex Tillerson, Secretary-designate of State, and former President of the Boy Scouts of America (2010-2012). I would seldom speak to the subjects unless spoken to. In this case, when it was over, I leaned in and said: "From one Eagle to another, good luck, sir." He responded with that characteristic Texas drawl. "Yeah, it sure meant a lot to me back then."
Most of the appointees were just here for the day, and would be shuffled from one meeting to another, and I was lucky to get five or ten minutes with them, not a lot of time for do-overs. I didn't need do-overs. But there was one notable exception.
No, not for do-overs. Bear with me.
James Richard Perry was the immediate past Governor of Texas, and Secretary-designate of Energy. He noticed my lapel pin immediately, came up and shook my hand, and identified himself as a brother Eagle. We spent at least five or ten minutes just comparing notes, how his Class of 1965 was the last class of Eagles without the mandatory service requirement, how mine as one of the Class of 1971 would never pass muster today, that the National Council of BSA realized they couldn't buy the kind of publicity these service projects gave them. He was sincerely fascinated by this.
After the session was over, he wanted to see my camera. I thought he wanted to pick his choice. No, he wanted to check out that big 200x piece of glass I had for a lens. It seems that photography is another of his hobbies. So we talked about that too. I don't know how he finds the time.
When was leaving the secure area for my office, I saw him rush past members of the press waiting by his car without comment. To think that he was unable to spend a few minutes with them, in favor of talking to a nobody like me.
What a stand-up guy!
It all came to an end on the 19th of January, when my final assignment was as photographer for the Vice President-elect's final press conference before his inauguration. In the months and years that followed, I heard from other Trump appointees, of how my reputation for my work was to my credit, and that of my agency. That stayed with me, and kept me going, all for a career change in mid-life that I entered "through the back door," learning along the way, and learning from some of the best and most patient men and women on the federal payroll.
Trump’s election wasn’t about Trump. It was a throbbing middle finger in the face of America’s ruling class. It was a gesture of contempt, a howl of rage, the end result of decades of selfish and unwise decisions made by selfish and unwise leaders. Happy countries don’t elect Donald Trump president. Desperate ones do.
In retrospect, the lesson seemed obvious: Ignore voters for long enough and you get Donald Trump.
I retired at the end of July of 2022, but of all the experiences I ever had, all my accomplishments, all my memories, the aforementioned remains to this day on the short list of the most memorable. My only regret is that my mother and father were not alive to hear me tell of it. After all, I worked alongside men who would go on to make history. Not too shabby, don't you think?
The next day, John saw Jesus coming to him, and he saith: Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him Who taketh away the sin of the world. This is He, of whom I said: After me there cometh a man, who is preferred before me: because He was before me. And I knew Him not, but that He may be made manifest in Israel, therefore am I come baptizing with water.
And John gave testimony, saying: I saw the Spirit coming down, as a dove from heaven, and He remained upon him. And I knew Him not; but He Who sent me to baptize with water, said to me: He upon Whom thou shalt see the Spirit descending, and remaining upon Him, He it is that baptizeth with the Holy Ghost. And I saw, and I gave testimony, that this is the Son of God. (John 1:29-34)
Given the significance of this "twentieth day," it seemed only appropriate that there be a hymn devoted to John baptizing in the Jordan, one designed to highlight the occasion specifically in the context of Christmastide. Alas, none could be found.
So, using the familiar tune "St Flavian," I wrote one. (Somebody cue the organ in the video already.)
Lord, halfway through these forty days,
Unto the Jordan came.
There, John the Baptist saw His light,
And called Him out by name.
"This is the One, the Lamb of God,
Who takes our sins away."
And then did water pour on Him
To hear the Father say.
"Behold, hear my beloved Son,
In whom I am well pleased."
And Andrew when he heard of this,
Upon the moment seized.
"Oh Master, say where dost thou dwell,
That I may follow thee."
Our blessed Lord then did reply
To Andrew: "Come and see."
Praise to the Father and the Son
And to the Spirit be,
As all three Persons are as One,
Unto the Trinity.
Copyright 2024 by David Lawrence Alexander. All rights reserved.
Today is the traditional start of the agricultural year in England, and so is known as Plough Monday, or, the day after Plough Sunday (you remember from yesterday, right?) which is the Sunday following the traditional observance of Epiphany on the sixth of January. This was the Monday when everyone would end the Christmas revelry and get back to work.
In his 1777 book Observations on Popular Antiquities, the English antiquarian and clergyman John Brand (1744–1806) gives an account of the formalities:
The FOOL PLOUGH goes about: a pageant consisting of a number of sword dancers dragging a plough, with music; one, sometimes two, in very strange attire; the Bessy, in the grotesque habit of an old woman, and the Fool, almost covered with skins, a hairy cap on, and the tail of some animal hanging from his back. The office of one of these characters, in which he is very assiduous, is to go about rattling a box amongst the spectators of the dance, in which he receives their little donations.
Well, okay, maybe not directly ending and getting back to work. Personally, I'd rather be molly dancing.
What is that, you ask?
VIDEO: A 2016 performance of "Black Sheet" by the Ouse Washes Molly Dancers. Following a bit of narrative, the dancing actually starts at 2:07.
“Molly dancing” traditionally only appeared during the depths of winter and is regarded by many people as the East Anglian form of Morris dancing. It is characterized by blackened faces, heavy boots (usually hobnailed) and the presence of a "Lord" and a "Lady", two of the men specially attired respectively as a gentleman and his consort, who lead the dances. Blackening faces was a form of disguise since the dancers could not afford to be recognized. (No, not for that other reason. Remain calm.) Some of those people from whom they had demanded money with menaces would have been their employers. Molly dancing is by nature robust and, some would say, aggressive. These qualities are emphasized by the sound of the hobnailed boots worn by the dancers, which were the normal form of footwear for farm workers in the East of England right up until the second half of the twentieth century. (Information courtesy of Alex Sanders.)
The forty days associated with Christmas and Epiphany continue. The coming of the Savior in the course of the liturgical year is further made manifest. So too is the relationship between the sacred and the secular.
The Sunday after Epiphany, that which falls between the 7th and the 13th of January, is commemorated in England as Plough Sunday, when the beginning of the agricultural year is celebrated. Farmers will arrive at the parish church in their tractors, which are blessed along with the seeds for planting, as found in the official worship book of the Church of England. The day is also remembered by Morris dancing after church services, where a homily for the occasion is often proclaimed.
As if that were not enough, we found this little gem by one Matthew "Rev" Simpkins, accompanied by his fretless banjo.
We went out weeping and sowed
But when we’re going home is not ours to know
It’s not ours to know when we’ll break bread together again
And so, our response to the "Christmas-Season-Lasts-Forty-Days" tirade continues.
VIDEO: A 1995 recording of "March of the Kings" ("Marche Des Rois") by Nowell Sing We Clear (Tony Barrand, Fred Breunig, Andy Davis and John Roberts) on Golden Hind Records.
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At the Mass for the Day, the faithful are given chalk that has been blessed by the priest, as well as special holy water known as "Epiphany water." The blessing for it, which takes place only for this occasion, is to be found in the traditional Rituale Romanum, and includes a prayer of exorcism. The blessed chalk and the holy water are then taken home, to be used that evening.
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The Blessing of the Entrance to the House (“Chalking the Door”)
The one who is the Officiant begins with the Sign of the Cross, as the others respond ...
Pax + huic dómui. (Peace + be unto this house.)
Et ómnibus habitántibus in ea. (And to all who dwell therein.)
...and then continue with Psalm 71(72) "Deus, judicium":
Give the King your justice, O God,
and your righteousness to the King's son;
That he may rule your people righteously
and the poor with justice.
That the mountains may bring prosperity to the people,
and the little hills bring righteousness.
He shall defend the needy among the people;
he shall rescue the poor and crush the oppressor.
He shall live as long as the sun and moon endure,
from one generation to another.
He shall come down like rain upon the mown field,
like showers that water the earth.
In his time shall the righteous flourish;
there shall be abundance of peace
till the moon shall be no more.
He shall rule from sea to sea,
and from the River to the ends of the earth.
His foes shall bow down before him,
and his enemies lick the dust.
The kings of Tarshish and of the isles shall pay tribute,
and the kings of Arabia and Saba offer gifts.
All kings shall bow down before him,
and all the nations do him service.
For he shall deliver the poor who cries out in distress,
and the oppressed who has no helper.
He shall have pity on the lowly and poor;
he shall preserve the lives of the needy.
He shall redeem their lives from oppression and violence,
and dear shall their blood be in his sight.
Long may he live!
and may there be given to him gold from Arabia;
May prayer be made for him always,
and may they bless him all the day long.
May there be abundance of grain on the earth,
growing thick even on the hilltops;
May its fruit flourish like Lebanon,
and its grain like grass upon the earth.
May his Name remain for ever
and be established as long as the sun endures;
May all the nations bless themselves in him
and call him blessed.
Blessed be the Lord GOD, the God of Israel,
who alone does wondrous deeds!
And blessed be his glorious Name forever!
and may all the earth be filled with his glory.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Spirit,
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Then the Officiant says the following prayer:
Domine, exaudi orationem meam. (O Lord, hear my prayer.)
Et clamor meus ad te veniat. (And let my cry come unto you.)
Oremus ... (Let us pray ...)
Lord God of Heaven and Earth, who hast revealed thine only-begotten Son to every nation by the guidance of a star: Bless this house and all who inhabit it. Fill them with the light of Christ, that their love for others may truly reflect thy love. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.
The Officiant or another takes a piece of blessed chalk and, stepping up on a chair or ladder if necessary, writes over the entrance to the house.
“Christus ...” (“May Christ ...”)
C
“Mansionem ...” (“this dwelling ...”)
C M
“Benedicat.” (“... bless.”)
C M B
“On this night of the year ...”
20 C M B
“... for the coming year.”
20 C M B 25
“In the name of the Father ...”
20 + C M B 25
“and of the Son ...”
20 + C + M B 25
“... and of the Holy Spirit.”
20 + C + M + B 25
Everyone responds: “Amen.”
20 + C + M + B + 25
Benedicamus Domino! (Let us bless the Lord!)
Deo gratias! (Thanks be to God!)
The doorway is sprinkled with Holy Water blessed for the Epiphany. The inscription is to be removed on the Feast of Pentecost.
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For those who require "the short form," there is this one from the Church of Saint Mary in Clifton Heights, New York. On those nights when the weather is particularly inclement, one can simply read from the Gospel of John while inscribing over the door ...
In the beginning was the Word, (inscribe 2)
and the Word was with God, (inscribe 0)
and the Word was God. (inscribe +)
He was in the beginning with God. (inscribe C)
All things came to be through him, (inscribe +)
and without him nothing came to be. (inscribe M)
And the Word became flesh (inscribe +)
and made his dwelling among us, (inscribe B)
and we saw his glory, (inscribe +)
the glory as of the Father’s only Son, (inscribe 2)
full of grace and truth. (inscribe 5)
… then with the Holy Water, making the sign of the cross three times over the entrance, proclaiming “Christus ... Mansionem ... Benedicat” and calling it a night.
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This day is remembered throughout the world by various names. In many parts of Europe, Epiphany retains its distinction as "Little Christmas." Among the Greek Orthodox, the waters of the harbor are blessed by the local priest. In Spanish-speaking countries, it is known as “Dia de los Tres Reyes” (“Day of the Three Kings”). There are parades on the main street, such as this one in Madrid, Spain.
Although we know the "kings" were not actually royalty at all, but scholars in astronomy and other sciences who came from Persia, tradition has associated Caspar, Melchior, and Balthazar -- their names as rendered in various apocryphal gospel accounts -- as representing the Orient, Europe, and Africa, the three great land masses of the known world in the first millennium.
As with the eve of Saint Nicholas Day in parts of western Europe, children in the Hispanic world are known to leave their shoes out and receive candy and other treats by the next morning. In Spain, children traditionally received presents on this day, rather than on Christmas, although recent years have seen both Christmas and Epiphany as a time for gift-giving.
I just love parades.
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This day is also the occasion for the solemn pronouncement of movable feasts for the coming year, using the chant from the Pontificale Romanum. Other resources for the occasion can be found at Fisheaters.
When I was growing up back in Ohio, the Village of Milford had its own way of disposing of old Christmas trees. They would be collected and taken to some field at the edge of town, stacked in a big pile, and "Twelfth Night" would be celebrated with the lighting of a bonfire dubbed the "yule log."
This might seem remarkable when you consider that Milford is a town first settled by (and more than two centuries later is still more or less dominated by) Methodists, as opposed to us "Catlickers." Of course, my parents -- may God rest their souls -- would never go for that sort of ribaldry, so I never actually saw the so-called yule log ceremony, but I would always read about it that week in the local rag known as The Milford Advertiser.
(Here we note that Protestants in the northern states did not celebrate Christmas until well into the 19th century. It was even outlawed by the northern colonies in the early years of European settlement. The southern colonies, on the other hand ...)
These days, I imagine people would have a hard time penciling it in between trips to soccer practice and PTA meetings. In fact, since leaving the Buckeye State to seek my fortune elsewhere, I learned that the town has yielded to other priorities, as in this little gem I read a few years ago, from the county's Office of Environmental Quality:
“Many recycled trees are sent through a wood chipper and are used as mulch.”
They have got to be kidding. Is nothing sacred anymore? Why celebrate the glory of the season when you spend the rest of the year spreading it on your lawn and walking all over it?
Meanwhile, here at Chez Alexandre, we will celebrate Epiphany on the traditional day all along. Tomorrow the lights that are traditionally left on all during Christmastide, will finally be shut off in the evening and taken down. They will be put back in storage along with the decorations, waiting for the season to return.
Last of all, for those years when we have a live tree, it is sent to its final resting place.
Joy, health, love and peace
Be all here in this place
By your leave we will sing
Concerning our King.
Our King is well dressed
In silks of the best
In ribbons so rare
No King can compare.
We have traveled many miles
Over hedges and stiles
In search of our King
Unto you we bring.
We have powder and shot
To conquer the lot
We have cannon and ball
To conquer them all.
Old Christmas
is past
And we bid
you adieu
Great joy
to the new.
“On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, twelve drummers drumming ...”
Not to be outdone by the rival pipers, the drummers also commanded a 15.8 percent raise this year, to $4,016.85, indicating wage inflation marches on.
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Contrary to popular opinion (including that of people who should know better), the sixth day of January is not the twelfth day of Christmas. The day before, the fifth of January, is the twelfth day of Christmas. The following day, the sixth of January, is the first day of Epiphanytide.
(Don't believe me? Get the calendar. Do the math. You're welcome.)
To Everything There Is (More Than) A Season
Another misconception, one growing in recent years among traditional Catholics, is that Christmas literally lasts for forty days, leading up to the Feast of the Presentation, or Candlemas Day.
No, Christmas does not last for forty days. Well, not exactly.
Let's back up a minute and go over the distinctions. I'll use big letters so no one misses anything. (Whatever I can do to help.)
The TEMPORAL CYCLE of the traditional Church year has two sections; CHRISTMAS and EASTER.
The CHRISTMAS SECTION has three seasons. The first season is the ADVENT SEASON.
The second season is the CHRISTMAS SEASON, which runs from 25 December (the day of the "Christ Mass" itself) to the end of the Octave of the Epiphany on 13 January (the Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord).
The third season is the EPIPHANY SEASON, which runs from 14 January (the day after the Feast of the Baptism) to the Saturday (or Eve) of Septuagesima (the pre-Lenten season).
The number of days for the seaon of Septuagesima varies, based upon when the Paschal Sunday falls, based on the Sunday after the first full moon after the Vernal Equinox. Nevertheless, it is with Septuagesima Sunday that the EASTER SECTION of the temporal cycle begins. (We'll deal with that whole thing later. Probably.)
Cycle. Section. Season. Got all that? Good, there's more.
So, what of the Feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary (also known in the West as the Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord Jesus Christ), or Candlemas Day, forty days after Christmas? In his commentaries found in the Saint Andrew Daily Missal, Dom Gaspar refers to it thus:
There is, however, a "satellite feast" of the Christmas Season, the Purification, occurring invariably 40 days after Christmas (Feb 2), sometimes in the Time after Epiphany [that is, the "Epiphany Season"]. For that reason, it has been placed in the Sanctoral Cycle, although its object brings it into close connexion [sic] with the Christmas section of the Sanctoral Cycle.
Well, that wasn't much help, was it?
Or was it?
Same Thing, Only Different
The above being said, how the time for Christmas observance is calculated still tends to vary. In 1969, the reformed Roman calander composed by men with nothing better to do expanded the season by a variable number of days, from Christmas Day itself, up to and including the Sunday after Epiphany or the sixth of January. However, the 1960 Code of Rubrics that were placed in force before all hell broke loose defines Christmastide as running from First Vespers (evening prayer) of Christmas to None (midafternoon prayer) of the fifth of January inclusive. However, it became a custom during the Middle Ages for the forty-day observance of Christmas. Even to this day, the Christian cultures of western Europe and Latin America still maintain the forty-day observance.
The result would appear to be a distinction between that which is codified as law, and that which falls under the category of customary law, or to put it another way, the folkways of a people of Faith. It is as such, then, that we continue to celebrate the coming of God-With-Us, but not in the same way as in the first twelve days. That is why we have Carnivale in Brazil, Mardi Gras (the weekend and culminating on the Tuesday before the start of Lent) in New Orleans and beyond, and in the Philippines, the Feast of Santo Niño on the third Sunday of January. (More on that last one later as well.)
And once again ... you're welcome.
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Meanwhile ...
Today, the reformed Roman calendar also honors Saint John Nepomucene Neumann, a native of Bohemia and Redemptorist priest who was appointed Bishop of Philadelphia in the mid-19th century, and who was a key figure in spreading the Faith to an ever-expanding United States of America.
In the traditional Roman calendar, Mother Church remembers Pope Saint Telesphorus, elected Bishop of Rome in 126, and martyred ten years later. The tradition of celebrating Mass on Christmas at Midnight, the celebration of Easter on Sundays, the keeping of a seven-week Lent before Easter, and the singing of the Gloria, all are attributed by tradition to his pontificate, even as the historical accuracy of these claims remains in doubt.
Tonight, a season ends, and here at Chez Alexandre, we start the day by taking the ornaments down from the tree, and elsewhere in the house. Tomorrow, a new season begins. Stay tuned ...
“On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, eleven pipers piping ...”
It’s been an expensive year in the entertainment industry and the pipers are demanding their share. Their price ballooned 15.8% in 2024, to $3,714.96, due to labor costs. It might be a brilliant move to start practicing.
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The end of Twelvetide draws near, but is still with us. And yet, as some of us returned to work the day before yesterday, the party is effectively over. Trees will be taken down to sit on the curb, and commercials for "holiday sales" will soon fade away, if they haven't already. Meanwhile ...
Today is the feast of Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, the foundress of the Sisters of Charity of Saint Joseph, the mother of the Nation's parochial school system, and patroness of Catholic schools. Raised to the altar by Pope Paul VI in 1975, she was the first native-born American to be so honored.
From the original motherhouse in Emmitsburg, Maryland, a branch house was established out west, its occupants known today as the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati, based at Mount Saint Joseph-on-the-Ohio, on the city's once-predominantly-Catholic west side. This order did much, not only to build the parochial school system in this part of the Midwest through their teaching apostolate, but its health care system as well, through the establishment of Good Samaritan Hospital in 1852.
The role of women Religious in the health care apostolate has changed in recent decades, to say the least. As we await the return of religious life to its former glory in nomine Domini, let us pause to consider how it used to be, and how it might be again.
“On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, ten lords a-leaping ...”
“Leaping” is right. As if they needed the additional buffer, the ten lords leapt an additional 7.2 percent, to a total price of $15,579.65, to cement their hold as the most expensive gift in the index, surpassing the Swans last year. So, if Lords are under the tree, that’s true love indeed!
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Today, the churches of both the East and the West remember the French shepherd girl Saint Geneviève, who lived in the mid- and late-fifth century. Her sanctity was noted at a very early age by Saint Germanus, bishop of Auxerre, who consecrated her to God at the age of seven. Genevieve is the patroness of the city of Paris, which has been saved through her intercession more than once, the first time from her contemporary, Attila the Hun.
Geneviève loved to pray in church alone at night. On one such occasion, a gust of wind came into the church and blew out her candle, leaving her in darkness. She attributed this act of nature to the Evil One himself, that he was trying to frighten her. Thus she is often depicted holding a candle. Other images show an irritated devil standing nearby.
“On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, nine ladies dancing ...”
True Love likely won’t find much solace in the fact that the price to hire a dance company only grew modestly this year, by 3.0 percent, to $8,557.37. The nine ladies dancing are still one of the most expensive gifts in the index.
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The traditional Roman calendar associates this day with the Holy Name of Jesus.* It used to be associated with the day before, with the Feast of the Circumcision. (Even in the present day, the Gospel reading for both feasts is identical.) Then in 1913, Pope Pius X moved it to the Sunday between the second and the fifth January inclusive (as is the case this year), and in years when no such Sunday existed, to be observed on the second of January. Don't ask me why.
The circumcision of a newborn male under Jewish law must take place eight days after the child's birth, at which time he is given his name. Small wonder, then, that the Gospel readings for both feasts in the traditional Roman calendar are the same. The Anglicans and Lutherans celebrate both on the first of January, as did the Roman church for quite some time -- you know, being the eighth day and all.
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And speaking of names ...
I once heard a comedian pose this important theological question: “If Jesus was Jewish, why did He have an Hispanic name?” That occasion aside, it gives us an occasion of our own, to consider that the name "Jesus" was not an uncommon one in His day. Brian Palmer writes for Slate:
How would Christ have been addressed by those around him?
He certainly would not have been addressed as "Mister Christ." After all, "Christ" was not a name, but an honorific, a title if you will, from the Greek Khristós for "anointed one." The Hebrew word was Moshiach or "Messiah." He would have been known by His given name, and the name of His father -- “Yeshua bar Yehosef” or “Jesus Son of Joseph.” In later centuries, or in present-day Iceland, we might easily surmise His being addressed as “Jesus Josephson,” Or, given the nature of the family business, He might have been known as “Jesus Carpenter.”
We also know that He eventually left Nazareth in Galilee, the town of His childhood, for other parts of that country, as well as Samaria and Judea. In those places, He would have been just as likely addressed as “Yeshua Nasraya” or “Jesus of Nazareth.” The Gospel accounts tell us of the inscription on the Cross, which gave both His name and His offense, in three languages: “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews” (actually, “Iesus Nazarenus Rex Iudaeorum” in Latin, “Ihsoûs ó Nazoraîos ó Basileùs tôn ’Ioudaìov” in Greek, and “Yeshua HaNazarei v Melech HaYehudim”, or more precisely, "ישו מנצרת מלך היהודים" in Hebrew). After all, a guy from a hick town like Nazareth would have been rather conspicuous in a high-falutin' place like Jerusalem, especially outside of the High Holydays.
The Scriptures also record him being addressed as “Jesus Son of David.” A man would also have been known for his extended family; that is, his tribe or house, as in “Yeshua ben David” or “Jesus of the House of David.” But even though family lineage was everything in Jewish society, such an address might not have been as common in everyday use.
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Devotion to the Holy Name has also been the inspiration for the National Association of the Holy Name Society. HNS chapters have been the basis for men's clubs in Catholic parishes for generations. Their mission includes the corporal works of mercy (feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, comforting the afflicted, that sort of thing), and acts of reparation for the misuse of the holy name.
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On that note, we have a couple of Holy Name stories.
First is an account from an old veteran Scouter, an American living in Mexico.
"While visiting my present Mexican hometown several years ago, I got an urgent message to call collect to an unfamiliar number in Chicago. Turned out it was the FBI, hoping I could help them; did I know anyone in México named 'Chuy,' a common nickname for anyone, male or female, carrying the name Jesús. When I told the agent yes, explained that there were seven in the village where I was staying, including the sheriff, he responded, 'Oh, you mean there's more than one?'"
And of course, I have one of my own.
Once I had a confessor who gave me very good advice, for those occasions when I would, shall we say, use a very short form of the Jesus Prayer in an inappropriate context. He advised me that I say immediately afterward, “Blessed be His holy name.” It's no substitute for the Sacrament of Penance, but it's still a handy form of reparation.
Whatever works.
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* At one time combined with the Feast of the Circumcision on 1 January, before the 1913 calendar reforms of Pope Pius X, thus the revisionist conspiracy is even worse than many are led to believe. Adding to the mystery, is that the controversial liturgist Annabale Bugnini was only born the previous year, calling his own part in said conspiracy into question.
“On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, eight maids a-milking ...”
Tied to the Federal Minimum Wage, which hasn’t changed since 2009, the Eight Maids-a-Milking remain priced at $58.00 (remaining at 0.0 percent) this year.
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The world knows it as New Year's Day. The Church knows it by several other names.
First and foremost, it is the “Octave-day” or eighth day of Christmastide (or "Twelvetide," if you will). Such was its name in the earliest liturgical books, thus remembered as the day of Circumcision, when a son of Israel was marked according to the Law. (It hurts just thinking about it.)
In both forms of the Roman Rite, the brief account from Luke is proclaimed:
At that time, after eight days were accomplished, that the Child should be circumcised: His Name was called Jesus, which was called by the angel before He was conceived in the womb. (Luke 2:21)
In the reformed Missal, the day is primarily known as the Solemnity of Mary the Mother of God. While appearing as a break in tradition, it is a reminder of the Marian emphasis of the Feast, as found even in the orations of the usus antiquior. It was the tradition in Rome that the Pope would go to one of the many churches in the city, whichever was the "Station" for that particular feast -- in the case of this one, the Basilica of Saint Mary Major.
But wait, there is one more ...
In the East, today is known not only for the Circumcision, but as The Feast of Saint Basil the Great, Bishop of Caesarea in the fourth century, and one of the great Fathers of the Eastern Church. Today is when the Greeks would traditionally exchange gifts. For many years, when I couldn't meet with my son Paul for Christmas (and as he was raised as a Greek Catholic, like his mother), I would make an occasion of this day.
With all that arcane information, you still have to admit that four names for one day are a lot. And to think the year is just getting started.
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