Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Painting In the Octave of Christmas

I hope you are all having a wonderful Christmas Octave. Sorry I haven't posted (in a week!). Sorry, alao, that I missed my installment of New Translation Tuesday yesterday. I'll be back on track next week.

I am taking this week off from my work at WLP and am heavily involved in a project here at my home. Basically, I am spending this week painting doors. For some reason, when this townhome was built, all of the doors were installed with the factory primer on them, but were never painted. The level that I am working on now has 26 doors in all. Needless to say, this is tedious and very time-consuming, but I enjoy it while I listen to some of my favorite classical music. The challenging part is painting the molded section, like the one you see in this photo. But, enough about door painting.




I enjoyed a peaceful Christmas. I hope you did as well. I went to Mass at 6:00 P.M. on Christmas Eve. The crowd was dissapointingly small, but the choir was terrific. I substituted at my parish on Sunday, because our music director went home after Christmas. When I arrived, people were bustling about shoveling the snow off the ramps and staircases. Inside, there was a flurry of activity, because it was very, very cold. The furnace wasn't working, and never did work the entire morning. It was in the low 20's outside, and probably in the 40's inside. My fingers just wouldn't do what they were supposed to do on the piano. And, I had decided not to wear a winter coat, just a sportcoat, to church. Needless to say, between the two Masses, I donned a warm winter coat and a pair of those wool gloves that don't have any fingertips. I played better at the 11:30.




As I sat there and ministered at St. James, it dawned on me that there are so many Catholics around the world (we number just a little above one billion at this point) who worship in much worse circumstances than did we at St. James this Sunday. I remember visiting shanty towns in Peru in the early 1980's and worshiping in shacks with dirt floors. The walls were painted by the local people and showed scenes of great struggle in the midst of their poverty. The music at that Mass filled the entire town. So, as we sat huddled together in the cold at St. James on Sunday, we were joining our voices--not only with the choirs of angels--but with millions of others around the world, celebrating in different places the Feast of the Holy Family.

I hope that you are well and that, as we prepare to begin a new year, you feel the call to unite your voice to so many others in praise and thanksgiving to God.

Gotta sing. Gotta pray.

1 comment:

Nick Wagner said...

Hi Jerry. Sounds like you'll have plenty of options for an Epiphany chalking!