I had a cold yesterday.  I sat in the foyer, took the bread and water, and left.

My mind is usually pretty active.  Everywhere I go I carry with me a superstructure of plans, goals, attitudes, and mythmaking.  I like it that way.

But it was nice to be too run down for any of that.  It was nice to experience the sacrament and the spirit of it without any preconceptions, hopes, or narrative.

We got a Christmas card this year that said something like “celebrating the birth of the great I AM.”  It is a juxtaposition that startles if you let it, a little baby being born and the great I AM, Jehovah Lord of Armies and a helpless infant.

As a holiday, though, Christmas is just about Him.  At Easter, we do and should think about our personal benefit in tough and intimate terms from the Saviour’s victory over death and sin.  At Christmas, its all about the baby.  So its appropriate that we celebrate Him in all his aspects.  It’s appropriate that it makes for a great party.

Enjoy the season, enjoy the Christ child, enjoy your family. And if you have a moment for some cozy quiet, curl up and enjoy one of these links.

“For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.”

Enjoy these goodies. (more…)

Tomorrow I will have to get the paper bags that I forgot, and maybe one or two other things.  It will probably be crowded aisles and uncrowded shelves.  The people will be tired.  Not jolly, but mostly kind.

You last minute shoppers, I salute you.  You care enough to put together a Christmas even when its frantic.  You care enough to vow you’ll get going sooner next year, and when you invariably don’t, to decide to do the best you can with the short time you have left.  You love Christmas too much.  The great hopes you have are too merry for this earth, so you put your prep off until you have no choice, and you head out to follow the star and see if it will lead you to something wonderful even in the chaos and mess of a stable.

The angel choirs practiced for millennia.  The shepherds came as they were.

By chance three young men met at the beginning of the Path, the one true Path that runs east of the Moon and west of the Sun, the Path whose entrance is hidden and narrow.

Each marveled that he had found the Path and marveled that fate had sent him companions with which to travel it.

“Are you like me, gentlemen?”  the dark-haired one said.  “I found the path by reading old books and discovering the lies that modern scholars told.  I asked the questions they avoided and traced the logical implications that they refused to even acknowledge.  The gap in the leaves that leads here was hard to find, but it was there, and they said it was not.  So I walked through it.  Was it the same with you?”

“No!” the freckled one said brightly.  “One night I heard music.  I got up from my bed and followed it to a dark crossroads, where a voice from the wood told me to always follow signs and  my heart.  I rush in without thinking about the consequences, because I know it will be all right.  Today I saw a dove flying and it shone like it was purest gold.  A crow larger than I have ever seen rose up and attacked it.  I was angry, and called on the powers that be to drive off this crow, because the dove was fair and beautiful.  When I did, an eagle swooped down and struck the crow.  The dove flew on and I followed it here.”

The third one with yellow hair looked curiously at them both.  “I am here,” he said slowly, “because my grandfather and my father walked this path when they were my age.  They told me to come.  They showed me the way.”

The freckled one laughed.  “I love how different our stories are.  We should become companions on this Path.  It is obviously meant to be.”

The dark-haired one nodded.  “Mutual aid and taking advantage of unexpected good fortune such as this are policies that maximize expected value in outcomes.  It is not probable that our presence here at the same time is coincidence.”

The other boy agreed.  “Like my father and grandfather always said, ‘Journey with friends, you’ll all win your ends.'”

Then, because it felt right, because it was customary, because an understanding of evolved human nature suggested it would have positive effects on the primitive subconscious, they clasped hands and swore fellowship.

Virgin Galactic jumped ahead a couple weeks to start a year with tantalizing possibilities for manned space flight. Spaceship Two reached the 50-mile height that the FAA considers high enough to count as “space.” The last time an American rocket lofted men that high was 2011, the last launch of the Atlantis.

Blue Origin announced in October that it will crew a capsule on a similarly sub-orbital trajectory atop its New Shepard in the first half of 2019. Boeing and SpaceX are both on NASA’s schedule to perform manned demonstration flights in the summer of their new orbital capsules. Those projections are close enough ahead to have some potential correlation with future reality. After years of anticipation and many, many adjustments of the projected timelines, this could be the year. How many of the four will have launched before the close of 2019? How many will have launched paying customers, private individuals not associated with the companies or government space agencies in 2020?

“Where is your God now?”

(more…)