Star of Bethlehem
We do things right in our church, including Christmas this morning, our annual children's Christmas pageant, which has been Christened "Holy Commotion." It's a unique event in which the worse it is, the better, and this morning's may have been the best of all.
It got off to a slow start in which nothing happened because nobody knew who was supposed to do what, when. Then people started beckoning, and a flock of children emerged to set into motion the glory of God. God is a child, and the shepherds were and are children, and the angels are children, and the lambs are children, and our church is filled with children; all of which is amplified by Jesus saying Unless you become as a little child, you cannot enter the kingdom of God. That's really Good News, in fact, Good, Better, Best, it's the Best News there is.
The Star in the sky behind the manger welcoming the three kings is always a child, covered with the star costume, standing on a low step ladder. Some years the star has waved or flapped the arms that are the star's points.
Whoever adult is closest takes care that the child gets up on and down from the step safely. Usually it has been me, today Fr Steve was closest, which was good, because this was his last Christmas pageant with us.
Fr Steve is retiring the end of May 2024, our parish is half-way through the year of "last Times" with him, and having myself done "last Times" at several churches as a parish priest, I'm not watching his face for emotions. I can still call up all my emotions even now, a quarter century later, especially at Christmas and Easter.
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It's Christmas Eve night now, pitch black dark outside, just Linda and me here in 7H, finishing up some feast preps for tomorrow. To be honest, we are both dead tired exhausted, I crashed for a three-and-a-half hour nap after lunch even with no martini and no Malbec. Linda is sitting in her blue riser chair that we bought for my mother on her 97th or 98th birthday: Mama could never figure out how to use it, but it's serving Linda well now. Leans way back and all that for naps, and will rise to dump you out almost standing straight up. Our bedroom has a sitting area, the television is in there, and Linda's resting and watching news and weather, waiting for Tassy's 6:30 Sunday evening phone call.
Me, I'm in the living room letting my special oyster dressing cool down after cooking a half hour on 350° and another half hour on 250° - - it's my magical special potion that nobody will eat but me. They all think only Marshwiggles eat oyster dishes, with is fine by me, nomesane? I make it different each Time, no recipe, my basis this Time is half a bag of Pepperidge Farm stuffing (not the cornbread type) mixed with a quart of oysters and all their oyster liquor, seasoned with garlic salt. Pre-heat the toaster oven while I'm prepping. Using a rubber spreader instead of my fingers, grease a glass baking dish with garlic butter; line the bottom of the dish with a different pint of oysters, cover them with one layer of extra thin Pepperidge Farm whole wheat bread slices (to help soak up), ladle the slightly soupy oyster dressing mix on top, sprinkle garlic salt, paprika, black pepper, and those little crushed dry green leaves I forget what they're called. Final layer of last pint of oysters on top, so this incomparable dish has two quarts of oysters. The baking dish is full, so put a metal tray on the oven rack to catch any spillage that boils over. Baking dish into the oven, and open the door slightly every now and then to make the light come on so I can enjoy watching it bubble and bake. It will be cool enough to taste soon, and I can't wait! Come to think of it, I did add some whipping cream, pecans, chopped mushrooms and cream of mushroom soup for the Thanksgiving version, and meant to do again today, but forgot. No matter, it's all good.
We also early-prepped the turkey so it's ready when Jeremy arrives to take charge of the kitchen tomorrow. And I have the beef tenderloin tied and read to cook the same way I did the standing rib roast last week for our early Christmas dinner with Joe.
Our weather this Christmas Eve is 65° and raining, wind E at 9 mph, and going to rain all night long. That might worry Calvin and Hobbes, but it doesn't bother me.
I wanted to mention that besides the standing rib roast early Christmas dinner, twice-baked potatoes, excellent Brussels sprouts that Ray brought, pumpkin pie and pecan pie flavored with rum that we had with Joe last Wednesday evening, that we also had other special treats. I'd ordered four pounds of fresh lobster meat from Maine, which was delivered overnight via FedEx, so we had lobster rolls for one meal (that's mine, cold with mayonnaise, half a pound of lobster, tails, claw and knuckle meat, Linda likes hers warm, lobster tails only, with lemon butter):
We went to Capn's Table one evening for oysters and mullet. Joe was hungry the evening he arrived, and enjoyed an enormous dish of spaghetti with spaghetti sauce made for us by a close friend, who also baked for us a feud cake that may be the premier dessert of all Time. Holiday feasts here always include a huge bowl of whipped cream, and vanilla ice cream for anyone who'd like it on their pie.
The last of the lobster, about half a dozen lobster tails that I cut into bite size bits, went into seafood gumbo made by the same chef friend, thawed and rice cooked to go with.
The butcher's trimmings from the beef tenderloin for tomorrow gave us three pounds of ground meat, which Linda made into Mom's Special Meatloaf, three large meatloafs, which we love, popped into the freezer for dinner one afternoon after all the excitement has faded.
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Finally. We do not need to feel guilt or shame that we and those we love are relatively safe and comfortable this Christmas while so much horror is going on in Ukraine and Gaza/Israel. But we do need to be mindful that others are not so fortunate this year, and hold them in our hearts.
I ask your prayers for peace; for goodwill among nations; and for the well-being of all people.
Pray for justice and peace, even though God turns it back on us because it's our responsibility.
I ask your prayers for the poor, the sick, the hungry, the oppressed, and those in prison.
Pray for those in any need or trouble.
I ask your prayers for those to whom this season of family togetherness and love brings overwhelming sadness.
Pray for those who are lonely and depressed.
I ask your prayers for those who are dying.
Pray for those who may die tonight and tomorrow, and for their families.
I ask your prayers for all God's children who are so excited they can hardly go do sleep tonight.
Pray for families who are building memories.
Life is short, and we haven't much Time to gladden the hearts of those who travel with us; so be quick to love, and make haste to be kind; and may God bless you and grant you more joy than sadness in life.
RSF&PTL
T88&c
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