Epiphany: Poverty, Jeopardy, Obscurity

Nativity with Midwife ~ 1913
Woodblock by Eric Gill (1882-1940)

Matrum Noctem ~ Mother's Night ~ Mōdraniht
The Mystery of Birth
Carol of the Epiphany

I sought him dressed in finest clothes,
where money talks and status grows;
but power and wealth he never chose:
it seemed he lived in poverty.

I sought him in the safest place,
remote from crime or cheap disgrace;
but safety never knew his face:
it seemed he lived in jeopardy.

I sought him where the spotlights glare,
where crowds collect and critics stare;
but no one knew his presence there:
it seemed he lived in obscurity.

Then, in the streets, we heard the word
which seemed, for all the world, absurd:
that those who could no gifts afford
were entertaining Christ the Lord.

And so, distinct from all we'd planned,
among the poorest of the land,
we did what few might understand:
we touched God in a baby's hand.

John L. Bell (b 1949)

Shared from
Come to the Table

Adoration of the Magi
Tapestry by Sir Edward Burne - Jones (1833 - 98)

The Epiphany
Stained Glass by Burne - Jones
Epiphany Chapel ~ Winchester Cathedral

Annunciazione

"For he hath regarded
the loneliness / lowliness of his handmaiden."

The Wash House, 1905
by Sir William Orpen (1878 - 1931)

At first glance, I saw this painting as a somewhat out of the ordinary depiction of the conventional Annunciation, with Mary going quietly about her business and the angel Gabriel appearing on the stairs to announce Mary's momentous role in the upcoming birth of Jesus.

But, no! This lowly, lonely, and no doubt tired handmaiden is scrubbing clothes on a washboard and the "angel" in white has not wings on her back but comes bearing yet more laundry!

P.S. June 2019
Angels or Laundry:
"Because unlike when the men looked in
and saw only laundry,
when Mary Magdalen looked in the tomb,
SHE saw angels."

Pastor Nadia
Bolz - Weber

***************
For today's Feast of the Annunciation,
here are some beautiful lyrics from
The United Methodist Hymnal (# 274):

Women in the Night
Woman in the night,
spent from giving birth,
guard our precious light;
peace is on the earth!

[Refrain:]
Come and join the song,
women, children, men;
Jesus makes us free to live again!

Woman in the crowd,
creeping up behind,
touching is allowed:
seek and you will find! (Refrain)

Woman at the well,
question the Messiah;
find your friends and tell:
drink your heart's desire! (Refrain)

Woman at the feast,
let the righteous stare;
come and go in peace;
love him with your hair! (Refrain)

Woman in the house,
nurtured to be meek,
leave your second place;
listen, think and speak! (Refrain)

Women on the road,
welcomed and restored,
travel far and wide;
witness to the Lord! (Refrain)

Women on the hill,
stand when men have fled!
Christ needs loving still,
though your hope is dead. (Refrain)

Women in the dawn,
care and spices bring,
earliest to mourn;
earliest to sing! (Refrain)

Text: Brian Wren, 1982
Music: Charles H. Webb, 1987 or Ron Klusmeier

See previous posts:
Annunciation ~ Blessed ~ Feast or Peace?

The Annunciation
Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones

Annunciazione ~ Leonardo da Vinci

Tree of Forgiveness

ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

Tree of Forgiveness
by Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones

Last week, Gerry and I were lucky enough to view this painting
at The Lady Lever Art Gallery
in Port Sunlight, Merseyside, England
Burne - Jones' treatment of forgiveness made me think of a series of passages I have saved over the years, all with the common theme that forgiveness requires searching your own soul and using your thinking cap:

"In short, I began to think, and to think indeed is one real advance from hell to heaven. All that hardened state and temper of soul, which I said so much of before, is but a deprivation of thought; he that is restored to his thinking, is restored to himself."
Daniel Defoe, from his novel Moll Flanders
Read more on my recent post:
"To Forgive: Reprove, Restore, Reclaim"
on the
The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker
A fortnightly [every 14th & 28th]
literary blog of connection & coincidence; custom & ceremony

Additional thoughts on the topic of forgiveness can be found
<~ <~ <~ by scrolling down in the column to your left


Hawwah*
She was Goddess of the Faeryland
Until she lost the God's new toy --
A red ball of clay --
Lost it accidentally one day
Playing in the orchard.
The God would never forgive her.
He forbade her walking in the garden with him.
He called her serpent
And, divine though she was,
She crawled on her belly
For thousands of years
Unable to forgive herself.

L'N

*The Hebrew word for Eve.

Annunciation

My second favorite* painting at the Lady Lever Art Gallery:
The Annunciation
by Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones
The artist's model for the Virgin Mary was Julia Stephen,
mother of Virginia Woolf & Vanessa Bell,
and, appropriately, pregnant at the time with Vanessa.

[*Click here to see my first favorite:
"Cordelia's Portion," by Ford Maddox Brown]
To go along with Burne - Jones' painting at the Lady Lever is this magnificent poem by Denis Levertov; I love the coincidental linguistic connection between the two names! Levertov's poem "is inspired by a compelling line from the 6th century Akathisthos (sung while standing reverently) Hymn of the Orthodox Liturgy in praise of the Theotokos (Mother of God): 'Hail, space for the uncontained God.' "

Annunciation
"Hail, space for the uncontained God!"
(from the Akathistos Hymn, Greece, VIc)
We know the scene: the room, variously furnished,
almost always a lectern, a book; always
the tall lily.
Arrived on solemn grandeur of great wings,
the angelic ambassador, standing or hovering,
whom she acknowledges, a guest.

But we are told of meek obedience. No one mentions
courage.
The engendering Spirit
did not enter her without consent.
God waited.

She was free
to accept or to refuse, choice
integral to humanness.
____________________________

Aren’t there annunciations
of one sort or another
in most lives?
Some unwillingly
undertake great destinies,
enact them in sullen pride,
uncomprehending.
More often
those moments
when roads of light and storm
open from darkness in a man or woman,
are turned away from
in dread, in a wave of weakness, in despair
and with relief.
Ordinary lives continue.
God does not smite them.
But the gates close, the pathway vanishes.
______________________________

She had been a child who played, ate, slept
like any other child – but unlike others,
wept only for pity, laughed
in joy not triumph.
Compassion and intelligence
fused in her, indivisible.

Called to a destiny more momentous
than any in all of Time,
she did not quail,
only asked
a simple, 'How can this be?'
and gravely, courteously,
took to heart the angel’s reply,
perceiving instantly
the astounding ministry she was offered:

to bear in her womb
Infinite weight and lightness; to carry
in hidden, finite inwardness,
nine months of Eternity; to contain
in slender vase of being,
the sum of power –
in narrow flesh,
the sum of light.
Then bring to birth,
push out into air, a Man-child
needing, like any other,
milk and love –

but who was God.

This was the minute no one speaks of,
when she could still refuse.

A breath unbreathed,
Spirit,
suspended,
waiting.
____________________________

She did not cry, "I cannot, I am not worthy,"
nor "I have not the strength."
She did not submit with gritted teeth,
raging, coerced.
Bravest of all humans,
consent illumined her.
The room filled with its light,
the lily glowed in it,
and the iridescent wings.
Consent,
courage unparalleled,
opened her utterly.

by Denise Levertov , 1923 - 97
Politically acitve British - born American poet and educator
from her book The Door in the Hive

previously posted poems by Denis Levertov

QK: "The same war continues . . . "

FN: Taste & See

QK: Taste & See

more on The Annunciation
QK: Blessed

The Hesperides

The Garden of the Hesperides
by Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones (1833 - 98)
The Garden of the Hesperides is the Goddess Hera's orchard, in the distant western corner of the mythical world, where was said to grow a grove of immortality-giving golden apple trees, with golden leaves, golden branches, and golden apples. The apples had been planted from the fruited branches that the Great Earth Mother Gaia gave as a wedding gift to Hera and Zeus.

As the blissful garden is near Mt. Atlas, it is the three daughters of Atlas, also called "The Hesperides" who receive the task of tending to the primary tree in the blissful grove. As an additional safeguard, and perhaps to prevent the nymphs from plucking gold apples for themselves, Hera also placed in the garden a serpent-like dragon named Ladon who twines about the tree and never sleeps.

The beautiful Hesperides -- sometimes referred to as The Western Maidens, The Daughters of Evening, or The Daughters of Night -- also serve as the Goddesses of Evening and the Golden Light of Sunset.The Garden of the Hesperides
by Lord Frederick Leighton (1830 - 96)

For more Golden Apples, see
THE FORTNIGHTLY KITTI CARRIKER
my fortnightly literary blog
of connection and coincidence
www.kitticarriker.blogspot.com