Dear Friends

I am, in many ways, the product of three Marys. This is our family name, and so my mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother all bear the name Mary. My brother and I used to joke that we only knew women in our family—women who were divorced or widowed. They were by far the greatest influence in my life.

The advantage of growing up with these three Marys was that, despite Protestant apprehensions, God’s grace was mediated to me through Mary. Today, I am grateful that I never got to know the meek, mild, and silenced Mary often portrayed throughout history. The Marys I knew spoke up (as in Luke 1:46-55), pondered often (as in Luke 1:29, 2:29, and  2:51), and consented to be channels of God’s grace (as in Luke 1:38). They embodied, in many ways, the triptych often attributed to their namesake: disciple, prophet, and mother….

The phrase “Slechte mensen zingen niet” has perplexed me since I first heard it in an Afrikaans song. The full version of the old Dutch proverb is: “Vrees niet waar weerklinkt het lied, slechte mensen zingen niet,” which translates to, “Fear not, where the song resounds, evil people do not sing.”

As we enter a season of singing—filled with carols and joyous celebrations—it’s worth re-evaluating this old saying, especially amidst the ongoing uncertainty of global conflicts.The prophet Amos presents a different perspective on this matter: “Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them; nor will I even look at the offerings of your well-fed animals. Take away from me the noise of your songs; I will not listen to the melody of your harps. But let justice roll down like water and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”

From Amos’ perspective, singing can also serve to mask pain, injustice, and suffering. He warns against singing if it becomes a cover-up. As theologian Dirkie Smith reminds us, history shows that evil people do indeed sing. In Elmina, Ghana…

Dear Friends,

“What would it take to satisfy human desire?”

This was a question once posed by the medieval theologian Thomas Aquinas.

His answer was short and simple: “Everything.” It would take everything to be truly satisfied.

Advent is a time of waiting and longing, but it also challenges us to consider what we are really waiting for or hoping to attain. In what directions are our hearts being pulled? As another medieval theologian, Augustine, asked, what is our telos—the ultimate goal of our existence?

This question may become even more complex when we think about the impact of one of the biggest secular holy-days: Black Friday. According to the good folks at Practicing the Way, the average American sees upward of 4,000 (yes, four thousand!) advertisements per day. Initially, when I saw this figure, I was surprised and shrugged it off in disbelief. 

Dear Friends,

“I feel that my mission is about to begin: my mission of making others love God as I love Him, my mission of teaching my little way to souls. If God answers my requests, my heaven will be spent on earth until the end of the world. Yes, I want to spend my heaven doing good on earth.”

These are the well-known words of St. Therese of Lisieux, who passed away at the tragic age…..