Wednesday, December 12, Second Week in Advent
There are lots of different ways to pray. One way is to try to put yourself inside the person who is part of your prayer. We try to picture many of the things that arent described in the Gospel passage.
Mary Lived up in Nazareth, a three days walk north of Jerusalem. Nazareth back then was a small town up on a hill. Maybe 120 people lived there. They didnt have any big buildings; they didnt have any rich industry.
There came a day when Mary (like good Jewish people would do) went with her mother and father on a big trip to Jerusalem for the feast of Passover. There, Mary saw great big buildings and the temple. People were dressed so well. And the food and clothes and stores and riches!
Thats when Mary realized she was from a small town. She wasnt one of the important people in the world. Thats when she realized she had an accent, Mary learned that.
On the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, we remember when Mary appeared to Juan Diego. She spoke with his accent, she spoke in his language. She dressed in his native clothing, and she looked like Juan Diego and his people.
Not only does Mary care about me as one of her own, but Jesus grew up that way. He knows what its like sometimes to feel small.
Thursday, December 13, Second Week in Advent
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earh
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings.
John Gillespie Magee was born in 1922 in Shanghai. His father was a U. S. citizen and his mother was British. They were serving as missionaries in China.
In 1939, John won a scholarship to Yale. However, after completing his freshman year there, he wanted to do his part to resist the Nazi threat. In 1940, he joined the Royal Canadian Air Force, was trained as a pilot, and in 1941 was sent for combat duty in England.
During a flight one day in late summer, he scribbled High Flight on the back of an envelope, and later sent a copy to his parents.
On December 11, 1941, his Spitfire collided with another plane and the 19-year old pilot crashed to his death. He was buried two days later.
And while with silent lifting mind Ive trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.