My hometown of Honesdale, Pennsylvania is semi-famous for two things: the Stourbridge Lion and “Winter Wonderland.” It should also be famous for the wonderful lebkuchen from Day’s Bakery. Their wonderfully soft and spicy bar-style lebkuchen is simply divine. And when the crunchy glaze cracks and begins to melt in your mouth . . .
Unfortunately, they don’t ship. At least, their website doesn’t offer shipping and I haven’t heard back from my email. I could ask family to send me some, but things of that nature tend to get “lost in the mail” – if you know what I mean.
I tracked down a recipe that sounds like it might be similar to my culinary fantasy, but the ingredients proved to be cost-prohibitive.
If only I had a German delicatessen
The stores in my area don’t even sell a boxed variety, the smaller, crunchier lebkuchen set on oblaten. Rumor has it that the commissary sells some sort of lebkuchen, but I’m not in the military. I have friends who are, though, so maybe I can call in a favor or two.
Now if only I could find some Moxie to go with it . . .
Many of my students suffer from the delusion that any time before the present day was “boring.”
You didn’t have internet? or cell phones? What did you do?
I used something called imagination. It’s nearly extinct, but you can see traces of it here and there . . .
In my experience, they find music the most tedious. Why? I don’t really know. Perhaps it’s because enjoying older styles of music takes work. Gregorian chant, polyphony, opera, and classical music all require effort, something today’s One Direction-crazed teenyboppers or Selena Gomez-infatuated prepubescents just aren’t willing to do.
Music? Effort? It took a whole minute to download this song, and now you want me to think about it?! I don’t think so, old man . . .
But music from days gone by simply isn’t boring. I get that you don’t like it, but it certainly isn’t boring.
Case in point:
“Gaudete”
Rejoice, rejoice! Christ is born
of the Virgin Mary – rejoice!
The time of grace has come—
what we have wished for,
songs of joy
Let us give back faithfully.
God has become man,
With nature marveling,
The world has been renewed
By Christ reigning.
The closed gate of Ezekiel
Is passed through,
Whence the light is raised,
Salvation is found.
Therefore let our gathering
Now sing in brightness
Let it give praise to the Lord:
Greeting to our King.
Clement Moore perpetrated a great crime against Church history when he penned and published the poem “A Visit from Saint Nicholas” in 1823. The mostly-benevolent Church Father known as Saint Nicholas of Myra was replaced with a magical man and equally magical reindeer who should – according to the laws of physics – immediately burst into flames and crash back to earth in a flaming ball of death and destruction the moment they attempt takeoff, simultaneously wiping out elven workshops and delivering barbecue to the North Pole. (I can only imagine Saint Nicholas’ reaction to this development . . .)
Therefore, in the spirit of historical accuracy (or – at the very least – greater historical accuracy than Mr. Clement’s epic failure), I present to you the real “Visit from Saint Nicholas.”
A Visit from Saint Nicholas
‘Twas the First Council of Nicaea, when all through the Church Every Christian was stirring, and starting research.
The search for Truth, that is.
The Church Fathers had chosen their sides with great care, For Nicholas of Myra soon would be there;
^ [this guy] ^
The Elders were settled all smug in their doctrine,
While allegations of heresy swarmed like a toxin;
Gnosticism Just say NO!
Constantine in his robes and Bishops in caps
Were just praying the Church wouldn’t collapse.
But it almost did . . . 1,000 years later.
When out of debate there arose such a clatter, All heads turned around to see what was the matter.
Away to the Council I flew like a flash, Threw open the doors and stopped in my tracks.
The lamps in their sockets were all aglow,
Giving lustre of mid-day to objects below,
Well, duh. That’s what lamps are for, right?
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a lively Church Council – no longer austere –
And a stately Church Father, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it was Bishop Nick.
^ [this guy] ^ in case you needed reminding
More rapid than eagles his discourses came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and I heard him proclaim:
“The deity of Christ cannot be refuted;
Equality with the Father cannot be disputed!”
From the back of the pack there came a loud call:
“That’s not what I think; no, not at all!”
Enter Scumbag Arius
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the naysayer Bishop Nick flew,
With a fist full of fury (and righteous wrath, too).
And then, in a twinkling, I heard a great “Oomph!”
We’re lucky that Nick didn’t kill the poor doof . . .
Constantine and the Bishops all gathered around,
And kicked Nick to the curb like an unwanted hound.
He was thrown into prison and stripped of his office,
His pallium confiscated – so were his Gospels.
Not quite the Santa you remember, is he?
He was left with only the clothes on his back –
Even a beggar had more in his pack.
But his eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
artistic liberty taken
Arius was in favor of kicking his teeth,
But he was outvoted and started to seethe:
“Nick doesn’t deserve proper food for his belly,
Why don’t we just kill him? Someone, please tell me!”
Typical Arius . . .
It was then that they learned just how wrong they all were –
It all happened so fast, it seemed like a blur:
Christ and the Virgin visited his bed
– are we really quite certain this wasn’t all in his head? –
They restored his belongings and sent him to work
Helping poor children and building the Church.
Before and After
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, he walked down the road.
He rallied his strength, to his team gave a whistle,
And strait away they read from the Missal,
But I heard him exclaim, ere he trod out of sight,
“I’ll mess you up, too, should we get in a fight.”
Some Notes on Historical Accuracy
Obviously, I have taken some artistic license. In some cases I was just too lazy to come up with anything thought the original worked just fine. For your consideration:
The Constantine mentioned here is Constantine I, founder of New Rome (aka Byzantium, Constantinople, and Istanbul).
Despite my caption, Arius may or may not have been a scumbag. He did, however, believe that Jesus Christ was inferior to God the Father, while Nicholas believed that Jesus was equal to God the Father. Hence, their disagreement.
By all accounts Arius was speaking when Nicholas couldn’t take it any more and laid into him. That just didn’t work for me. Oh well, deal with it and move on.
I really don’t know how Arius reacted to getting punched in the face. His response is based on what my reaction would have been. Honestly, how would you have reacted?
Although I have Nicholas’ followers reading from the Missal, I don’t think it existed at that time. However, neither do flying reindeer, and you probably like that poem just fine, don’t you?
Anyway, now you have a semi-historical background for the real Nicholas. Combat ignorance and share it!
Yes, this is actually mine.
It’s from an 1882 Kirchen-Gesangbuch
[Evangelical Lutheran Church, Missouri Synod]
I’ve said quite a bit over the last twenty-one months, but have generally avoidedneglected refrained from things of a more religious nature.
Nevertheless, we are approaching a time of year celebrated by most Christians around the world. I’m referring – of course – to Advent.
My own religious preferences have never been “High Church” so-to-speak. Creeds and liturgies just aren’t my thing, you understand. I have nothing against them personally, it’s just that I think religion of any kind needs to come from the heart. If you’re told exactly how to respond to a particular reading, doesn’t that take away the personal aspect of religion? I don’t mean to start a theological discussion; this is just the way I think.
That said, I find some liturgies absolutely gorgeous. And as I’ve begun to meditate on the Christmas season, I find myself drawn to observing Advent for the first time.
I suppose I should have seen it coming. I’ve spent the last year independently researching medieval and early modern Christian traditions. I’ve waded through beautifully illuminated manuscripts (isn’t the digital age wonderful?), finally putting my college-level Middle English and Frakturschrift skills to use.
For the first time I’ve found myself searching aisles for Advent candles and wondering if I’ve found the right color (confounded colorblindness). I’ve scoured the internet for at-home reading, songs, and meditations.
Last night I lit my purple candle . . .
[ok, so I really found one online] sang Veni, Veni, Emmanuel . . .
Veni, veni Emmanuel!
Captivum solve Israel!
Qui gemit in exilio,
Privatus Dei Filio,
Gaude, gaude, Emmanuel
Nascetur pro te, Israel.
and read Isaiah 40:1-5.
Tröstet, tröstet mein Volk! spricht euer Gott; redet mit Jerusalem freundlich und predigt ihr, daß ihre Dienstbarkeit ein Ende hat, denn ihre Missetat ist vergeben; denn sie hat Zwiefältiges empfangen von der Hand des HERRN für alle ihre Sünden. Es ist eine Stimme eines Predigers in der Wüste: Bereitet dem HERRN den Weg, macht auf dem Gefilde eine ebene Bahn unserm Gott! Alle Täler sollen erhöht werden und alle Berge und Hügel sollen erniedrigt werden, und was ungleich ist, soll eben, und was höckericht ist, soll schlicht werden; denn die Herrlichkeit des HERRN soll offenbart werden, und alles Fleisch miteinander wird es sehen; denn des HERRN Mund hat es geredet.
Advent: A Celebration in Three Languages. And this is just the start!
I’d like to know: do you observe Advent?
If so, what do you do or what are your traditions?
Mr Peabody let me borrow has absolutely no idea that I have the Wayback Machine, so we have to be quick. Pay close attention – there’s going to be a quiz later.
[INSERT FAVORITE TIME MACHINE NOISE HERE]
[The most appropriate response]
We found a Witch! May we burn her?
Look around; can you tell where we are?
That’s right! It’s the Middle Ages.
And what do we have here?
Someone’s been accused of a crime!
No, there’s no need of a jury; these fine people have something better: judicium Dei via trial by ordeal.
What’s that? You haven’t heard of trial by ordeal? Well, you’re in luck! Here’s a quick rundown:
People in the Bad Old Days widely believed God would protect an innocent person from harm, even if that meant suspending the laws of nature. That’s right; God would personally intervene with a miracle to help “prove” someone’s guilt or innocence! No need for evidence, witnesses, or anything of that kind; simply subject the accused to the ordeal du jour and let God do the rest.
Go ahead; pick your poison:
Trial by Combat
You and your accused fight it out. Last man standing wins is right.
May the Odds be Ever in Your Favor
Trial by Fire
Walk a given distance over red-hot ploughshares or while holding a red-hot iron. Wait three days and have a priest examine the affected area. If there’s no sign of injury: congratulations! You’re innocent and free to go. If the area is blistered, festering, or otherwise injured: prepare to die.
A variation of this trial requires you to remove a stone from boiling water or other substance (like oil or lead).
Trial by hot water is pretty much the same as the variation of ordeal by fire [see above].
Trial by cold water is found in the world’s oldest law codes (Code of Ur-Nammu and Code of Hammurabi) and appears reserved for those accused of sorcery/witchcraft. If you find yourself in this unfortunate position, expect to be submerged in the local stream/lake/river and declared innocent if you sink and guilty if they float. Apparently blessed water can’t receive sinners or something like that. Let’s just hope they fish you out in time (assuming you’re innocent). Either way, looks like you lose.
The witch-hunts of the 16th and 17th centuries relied on this method.
Trial by Cross
It’s essentially a staring contest where you risk your life. You and your accuser stand on either side of a cross and stretch out your arms. First one to lower his arms loses. I hope you’ve been doing your calisthenics!
Trial by Ingestion / Trial by Sacrament / Ordeal of the Eucharist / Trial by Poison
In this (somewhat tasty) ordeal, you’re given blessed dry bread and cheese. If you choke, you’re guilty. A variation of this requires you to take the Eucharist after solemnly swearing you’re up to no good declaring innocence. If you’re guilty, you’ll die within one year. So lock your door and become a hermit and you should be just fine.
I wonder if it works on those accused of gluttony?
Have you been paying attention? Good! It’s time for our quiz. Fair warning, though: it has absolutely nothing to do with anything on this page. Still think you’re ready? Then proceed to the next page!
Running In My Head 