Posts Tagged ‘writer’

My father lives in a different world than me.

He lives in Mallorca, Spain and the traditions are different in many ways. I always like to hear of the festivities for different occasions, so I sent an email asking him about Christmastide, and whether they decorate Christmas trees.  I received this long message which I want to pass on to my readers, complete with links and photos.  I am especially amazed by the snowflake lights.  At the bottom of the post you can listen to the song my father refers to in this message, sung by a child.

I hope you all have a meaningful Christmas celebration in honor of the Son of God who came to Earth to save us all.

Shalom,

Sister Olive

~♥~

Dear Dottir,

In the last decade or so, yes, Christmas trees, Santa Claus, elves and any commercialization possible has taken over.  Even here in this small village, in the little plaza up in town there is a Christmas tree with decorations.

Before this northern invasion, Christmas Eve was celebrated in the church, or quietly in the home, no tree, no gifts just a celebration of the birth and the mother.  Here on Mallorca and in Catalunya, they had another very strange custom. A young child sings the Sybila, a song of the Judgment Day. You can read about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Song_of_the_Sibyl 

I have heard it sung many times over the years, because when I directed the church choir we were up in the organ loft, waiting for our turn to sing various Christmas songs from the region.  It is a haunting melody, very difficult for a child to sing, so they practice it for weeks before, no accompaniment of any kind, just that pure “white voice” as they call unchanged voices here. Here it is sung in a little church by a woman: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cfirOs1RGIc

In the Cathedral of Palma they make a real production of it, with full choir, organ and a young woman singing http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8aYV_Kqv44g– these may be beautiful, but I prefer the single child in the Deya church, innocently singing about the end of the world.  Every year a different child is chosen.

Before also, the decorations were basically “nerulas” or white paper cutouts like snowflakes, hung across the nave of the church and in houses.  The streets still are blazoned with lights, as traditionally – I first saw them in Barcelona in 1969 and was amazed. Take a look https://www.google.es/search?q=christmas+lights+in+Barcelona&hl=en&tbo=u&tbm=isch&source=univ&sa=X&ei=nZfRULDuGOyY0QWeuICoBA&ved=0CEMQsAQ&biw=1024&bih=614

As for myself, you know me – Stephanie and I would sometimes walk and look at the world, especially the stars which are exceptionally bright in winter, just appreciating Creation, perhaps lamenting its ultimate passing…

I will be doing that alone this year for sure, and will send my love to you all.  What I see from my balcony is this:

 Poppy's Window View

Where Chopin stayed in 1838 for the winter, so I have good company.

At night it is lit up, blocking the stars until late, when they are turned off.

 Poppy's View at Night

What will you be doing?  Have you found a compatible church where you can enjoy the songs of Christmas?

Lots of love,

Poppy

~♥~

Here is the link for the solo sung by a child, my favorite of the versions so far:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nANDw8XOHhU

 ~♥~

The Song of the Sibyl

On the Day of Judgment
The good go to heaven for their services.

An eternal King cometh
Dressed in our mortal flesh
He certainly will come from heaven
To judge the century.

Before the judgment is passed
A great sign will show itself
The sun will lose its shine
The earth will tremble with fear.

Then comes a mighty thunder
The sign of a great anger
In a hellish confusion
Rays and cries resound.

A great fire will fall from the sky
In a stench of sulfur
And the earth will burn furiously
And a great terror afflict people.

Then comes the terrible signal
A major earthquake
The rocks will break
And the mountains will collapse.

Then nobody will have gold pieces
Silver or wealth
And all await sentencing.

Death will leave you penniless
And all collide
Only men remain crying
And sadness will cover the world.

The plains and peaks are all the same
Good and bad will be achieved
Kings, dukes, earls and barons
They will have to account for their actions.

And then comes, unexpected
The son of God Almighty
He will judge the living and the dead
The good go to heaven.

The Unborn
Cry from the wombs of their mothers
And with her cries say
“Help us God Almighty”

Mother of God, pray for us
You, the Mother of All Sins
You have the judgment merciful
You have that paradise is open to us.

You who have heard it all
Pray to God with devotion
With all your heart and fervor
That should save us.

 ~♥~

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“Since my earliest childhood a barb of sorrow has lodged in my heart. As long as it stays I am alive, if it is pulled out I shall die.”

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“We all long for Eden, and we are constantly glimpsing it: our whole nature at its best and least corrupted, its gentlest and most human, is still soaked with the sense of exile.”

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Happy Father’s Day to the music man of Mallorca…

image002

IF

Poppy

Love, Dottir ~

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Still through the cloven skies they come with peaceful wings unfurled;
And still their heavenly music floats o’er all the weary world.
-Edmund Hamilton Sears

I often think back upon the human angels in my life who took responsibility for me when they had no obligation to, and treated me with dignity and kindness when no one else did. I was just a confused wild street child, and I’m still just as crazy in many ways although I hide it better. But these people formed a human circle of kindness around me and tried to build me up. They simply loved me and accepted me, and patiently endured the madness that followed me wherever I went. I wouldn’t be comfortable today with someone like the youthful me around.

But they didn’t only minister to me. My angels tried to make the world a little bit better by sounding their trumpets against violence of any kind, watching for misuse of nature or its creatures, and whatever brand of injustice seemed to be sneaking into the lives of common people. Those hippie angels were the best kind, and they formed my view of the world in many ways, teaching me that it was impossible to love God and not love your neighbors, your planet, and all those beautiful creatures.

If there was an archangel among them all, it was surely Evelyn who introduced me to so many other angels during my journey. I remember Evelyn telling me that the root word of the word “violence” was akin to the root of the word “silence.” She said that if we remain silent in the face of evil, we are no different than the one who is committing the acts of violence.

I wonder why we Christians ignore so many things that ultimately will affect our children, knowing that they might not be able to enjoy the things that we have enjoyed. It’s disturbing to me that my sons might not be able to see the glaciers or have clean air or water, or even eat real corn or oats if we replace everything with genetically modified organisms (GMO’s). And it upsets me to see the economic inequity that is happening our society, knowing the misery that it could cause to ordinary people in future generations. Where is our Christian love towards our own children, and humanity at large?

I’ve heard Christians say that this is all just part of Biblical prophecy, and the world is going to be destroyed whenever God is ready. So many believers sit in comfort and pray and preach while the future of our children is being thrown out like trash. There is nothing spiritual about apathy. How can anyone expect to please God while displaying this kind of attitude? A Jewish friend of mine once told me that he thinks there might be more Marxists in heaven because Christians only think of themselves and their own souls. That is quite an indictment against the Western version of faith, and very troubling to me personally. Christ said that all the law and the prophets hang upon two commandments: to love God and our neighbor.

Sometimes I really miss those hippie angels who taught me to be an active part of the redemptive process in the world. One of them told me that it was our job to try to make the world as much like Eden as possible, even if all of our efforts fail. The way we serve people is equivalent to serving God, according to Jesus’ parable of the sheep and the goats.  Without human angels who strive to restrain evil, this world will only hasten to become more dark and terrible.

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It was very interesting trying to reblog this on both of my sites, but I finally succeeded…

Originally posted on Salt of the Earth:

Fr. Seraphim Rose of Platina Fr. Seraphim Rose of Platina

What, more realistically, is this “mutation,” the “new man”? He is the rootless man, discontinuous with a past that Nihilism has destroyed, the raw material of every demagogue’s dream; the “free-thinker” and skeptic, closed only to the truth but “open” to each new intellectual fashion because he himself has no intellectual foundation; the “seeker” after some “new revelation,” ready to believe anything new because true faith has been annihilated in him; the planner and experimenter, worshipping “fact” because he has abandoned truth, seeing the world as a vast laboratory in which he is free to determine what is “possible”; the autonomous man, pretending to the humility of only asking his “rights,” yet full of the pride that expects everything to be given him in a world where nothing is authoritatively forbidden; the man of the moment, without conscience or values and thus at the mercy…

View original 77 more words

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Fr. Seraphim Rose of Platina Fr. Seraphim Rose of Platina

What, more realistically, is this “mutation,” the “new man”? He is the rootless man, discontinuous with a past that Nihilism has destroyed, the raw material of every demagogue’s dream; the “free-thinker” and skeptic, closed only to the truth but “open” to each new intellectual fashion because he himself has no intellectual foundation; the “seeker” after some “new revelation,” ready to believe anything new because true faith has been annihilated in him; the planner and experimenter, worshipping “fact” because he has abandoned truth, seeing the world as a vast laboratory in which he is free to determine what is “possible”; the autonomous man, pretending to the humility of only asking his “rights,” yet full of the pride that expects everything to be given him in a world where nothing is authoritatively forbidden; the man of the moment, without conscience or values and thus at the mercy…

View original 77 more words

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