A Paschal Theology of Brioche

**sorry for any duplication--blogger hiccuped last week and deleted a few of my posts, so I'm re-posting them now**

When I reached for my Flour cookbook on Holy Saturday, I was a bit taken aback at the length of time the brioche recipe took. I wanted to make this egg- and butter-rich bread for our Pascha this year, but Saturday was the first time I'd looked at the recipe. "Still," I thought, "I can just break it up around our schedule."

And thinking about it after-the-fact, I think it fit perfectly with so much about Easter. Let me tell you about it.

Ingredients (for such a rich bread, it's surprisingly simple--life lessons, anyone?):

5 eggs, for the Pentateuch: the foundation of our faith, and the beginning of God's work in the world. Eggs for new life; eggs to remind us what we have given up for Lent.

Butter! So much butter: 18 tablespoons, to be precise. Nine in each loaf of brioche. Six sets of three. Oh, the richness of the Trinity :) 

Yeast, because we are Children of the Resurrection! 

Flour and water--can't make bread without these. 

Salt. We are the salt of the earth, after all.

---

So, in making the brioche, first you mix the flour, yeast, salt, eggs, and water together in a mixer, making a stiff dough--hardly pliable at all and not soft or supple like bread dough is supposed to be. But kneading is key in this recipe. In order to entice the gluten to break down, forming lovely, long, elastic strands, you have to knead the heck out of this dough. And you also need butter. Lots of it.

The recipe says to add the butter incrementally, waiting to add more until each addition is fully incorporated. Have you made brioche? Do you know how difficult it is to get (slippery, gooey, room-temperature) butter to mix into a stiff dough? It... takes a while. And even then, when all the butter is mixed in, the dough just sits on the bottom of the bowl all gooey and sticky. "How will this ever be bread," I wondered. Joanne said "trust me," though, so I did.

Knead for 10 minutes. Or longer. On medium speed, until the dough comes together and gets satiny smooth and much more bread-dough-like. I was amazed at this transformation. By the end of the kneading, you turn the mixer up a notch or two so that the dough is audibly slapping the side of the bowl. I guess you have to really beat the dough to get a soft, springy loaf... who knew?

Then you put the now-soft-and-supple-and-tasty dough into a bowl, cover it, and let it rise in the fridge for 6 hours, but preferably overnight. I only had 6 hours before we returned from the vigil with a tight schedule Easter Sunday, so I put it in the fridge, hoping for the best.

All the while we waited the Resurrection of the Lord, the dough was resting. "This is the night.." the priest chanted the Exultet. This is the night that Christ rose from the dead, triumphant over death forever. Oh death, where is your sting? Oh grave, where is your victory? And our Easter Bread rested, waiting.

When we got home, late at night, I took the cold, clammy dough out of the fridge and shaped it into two loaves, reserving two little bits for shaping the cross for the top. And, after I placed the braided crosses on top, I covered the loaves in their pans and set them to rise over night. In a warm, cozy spot in my kitchen, the dough slowly expanded and grew to fill the pans, popping over the top, ebullient with the life of the yeast.

Early in the morning, before the sun was up, I woke to my alarm. Time to turn the oven on! Time to bake our Easter Bread. While the oven was warming, I brushed the tops of the loaves with beaten egg, creating the perfect recipe for a golden, shiny crust. Into the oven; set the timer; snooze on the couch.

The bread was done just as the sun was rising, just as the sky was brightening on our happy Easter morn.

And it was delicious.

So delicious, in fact, that I didn't take any pictures. Oops :(

S'Nami Boh

This is the hymn that is sung in Byzantine Churches for the Christmas Eve Liturgy.  Though the tenor of this video doesn't do Fr. Joseph's deep, resonating bass justice, it is a beautiful hymn, which brings Christmas home to my heart just hearing it.

Christ is born! Glorify Him!!

....

Cookies

Nothing happens at the Black's but the Two Little Girls know about it.  Especially in the kitchen.

If you pull out baking bowls or flour or sugar (particularly sugar) or vanilla, you will soon hear the familiar (sometimes dreaded) sound of their little wooden high-chairs *scroooooonkeeeeenkskenrrnenssk* scraping across the dining room, squeaking slowly (but steadily) into the kitchen, and up to the counter, right in front of your workspace.

"I'm just gonna see what's in this loodle bowl here," they say. 

Oh Christmas Tree

Christmas trees are a serious business here at the in-law's.  The sagas of tree-getting are many and varied (and hilarious).  There was the year that Dad brought home 4 trees. Yeah--four.  Because they were all that the lot had left.  They were so lonely, I guess. 

Then there was the year that they got a 16-some foot tree, since in their old house they had cathedral ceilings.  And the year they lived 30 minutes from any hardware stores and broke three different tree stands trying to hold up a large-ish tree, which means three trips to and from town to get a new stand. 


There was the year they got a fabulous deal on a tree that was supposed to have gone to a large company for their rather large foyer, but the tree somehow never made it there.  So dad brought that one home.  Seriously--this tree was 10 feet in diameter at the bottom.  It was totally ginormous.  


That was the Christmas Taylor and I had started dating.  


That was also the year the Christmas tree nearly fell on me... [story for another time]

For Unto Us a Child is Born!

My sweet husband and I spent a lovely evening together attending the Handel and Haydn Society's annual performance of Handel's Messiah.  It was beautiful.

Every year, Taylor's family attends a Seattle performance of Messiah in Benaroya Hall and we have been lucky enough to have an organization like the Handel and Haydn society to facilitate our continuing the tradition.  Before I met T's family I'd only ever head parts of the performance in movies or on the radio occasionally.

It's an amazing piece of music.  I confess that I don't like everything about it--the florid arias throughout can sometimes seem a bit much to my taste... but there are certain parts, phrases of a few notes or whole pieces that thrill me every time.  The soprano this year was one of the best we've heard, and the clear, smooth note of her voice rang out high and bright like crystal "Come unto Him all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and He will give you rest."

Thanks Giving

Thanksgiving was always Momma's favorite holiday.  She told me it was her favorite because all she had to worry about was food. And--let's be honest here (in case you haven't figured this out yet)--my family was really into food.

Especially Momma.  

And boy did she "worry" about the food.  Not that she stressed out about it, but she planned and planned for it. I think she really looked forward to the holidays all year long, planning for months ahead of time: stocking up recipes and thinking about what she'd make and how she'd serve it. She loved parties.

She had stacks of magazines with recipes she wanted to try.  Countless cookbooks were piled on her bookshelves. Her recipe box was stuffed with 3 x 5 cards.  Every year she'd try at least one new dish.  Usually, there would be several--sweet, savory, and cookie-y.

Tradition

to Annie
from K.K.

It's not the same when I type it out.  If you want the full effect of the memory those words have for me when I think of them, they have to be in Momma's handwriting, scrawled in pencil on a Christmas gift tag, attached to an evidently hurriedly-wrapped present found on my pillow in the morning.

Kris Kringle presents were just one of the traditions Momma kept during Advent.  I recall, over the years, we did many things through the Catholic grade school we all attended.  Mostly it was a Jesse tree, which we'd color and cut and paste and decorate at school the last week of November and bring home to keep track on throughout December. There were also the paper chains--do you remember those? Each day's paper link had something helpful to do on it.  But it was our domestic church traditions that are most important to me.

Like those Kris Kringle presents.  Now, I could be romanticizing my past, but I seem to recall we got the best KK presents on the coldest, windiest days of the year, when we were most reluctant to get out of bed.  One morning (probably during Kindergarten), I remember waking up and, looking around, perceiving that it was not in fact Christmas yet, I immediately pulled the covers over my head to go back to sleep.  [Sometimes, I still wish I could do that.]

But, there were still those presents that Kris Kringle (who wrote just like Momma...) left for us as the anticipation grew. They were always rather small presents, nothing too elaborate.  Sometimes it was just a candy or treat wrapped up for us. On Sundays, there was a family gift--something we could all share and enjoy.  Sometimes it was a box of tasty Christmas chocolates, or delicious cookies.  Sometimes it was a beautiful Christmas book, which we would read as a family later that night.

In the evenings on the four Sundays of Advent, Momma would gather us around the dining room table which was always laid, quite simply, with the advent wreath and candles.  It was a gigantic wreath.  I have faint memories of it going with the (artificial) Christmas tree we had for years, but I can't be sure.  All I remember was that it was pokey and big and very green and huge. And it was the very first Christmas decoration we got out every year.  There was a white, 5-candle holder that fit nicely inside it, holding our purple and pink candles.  Momma always had a white candle for the middle, to light on Christmas eve.

So we would all stand around the table, holding hands, all the lights turned off except the candles.  The first week, Vivian lit the candle. The next week, I got to light two.  Bethany lit three the next week (she got to light the pink candle! Pink because the third Sunday means we're almost there. Christ is almost here!) and Summer lit four the Sunday before Christmas.  On Christmas Eve we'd come home from church and Ray would light all five candles (five, Vivian and I thought, that's a whole lot of candles. I wish I could light that many).

And, holding hands, we would sing. [No, not the song from the Grinch] :)  We sang an ancient hymn, blending our voices in the soft glow of candle light, letting the still, silent darkness wrap our melody round with holy waiting.  O Come, O Come, Emmanuel!  And ransom captive Israel that mourns in lonely exile here, until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.  

This seems to be the season for remembering traditions.  This is time of year when families gather and spend time together, close inside against the cold.  History emerges from dusty attic boxes; it comes to light at the bottom of a hot cocoa mug.  Tradition and historicity cannot be ignored during the holiday season, as they can much of the rest of the year.  But I say it is a blessing that we cannot hide it.

We can't ignore our past stories. We should seek to understand them and pass them on.  Maybe if they make sense, we'll feel more inclined to hold on to them.  I know I will keep mine close, especially as my family grows, and I have my own little ones to tell stories to.

House Full

When Daddy was a younger man, he tells us, he always wanted to live in a house full of beautiful women.  Wouldn't y'know it? He forgot to specify: "whom I'm not related to."  :)  Instead of a houseful of wife-like women, he got a houseful of daughters.  "Even the tortoise turned out to be a girl!" he'd say.  Now, most of his grandchildren are grand-daughters :) Ah well.

Viv and I flew out to CA last weekend because, you see, Summer was visiting from CO  and we thought it'd be fun to have all the sisters together again.  It was :)

The weekend before we flew out was Daddy's birthday.  My sister Bethany, who teaches at our old high school, thought it'd be a good idea to take Daddy out to an encore performance of a Johnny Cash play the school was putting on.  It was awesome!

We went to sushi for dinner and Daddy even tried a piece of raw fish! He didn't particularly like it, but that was fine--it left more for me.  We sipped tea and talked--about theology of the body, music and lyrics, dividing things up, visiting at Christmas--and laughed. It was also nice to sit down to eat dinner that 1) we didn't have to make and 2) we didn't have to clean up.  It was a great meal.  I think sushi should become a tradition in the family now.. one of those things that's developed without Momma around to orchestrate large meals.  It's easy to order, pick up, serve, fill us up, and clean up after.  Addenda to the meal are easy too (rice and miso soup), and (my favorite reason) I'm mostly not allergic to anything in sushi. Hooray! How 'bout it, Family--New Tradition? :D

After dinner we headed over to the high school and sat through a wonderful performance of Ring of Fire, a musical about Johnny Cash.  It was, of course, a high school musical production, but it was wonderfully done--and the troupe is going to Scotland to perform it in a competition!  Well done, alma mater :)

After the concert, Daddy treated us all to ice cream.  We went to Baskin Robins and each got a scoop, which we ate outside--the weather was so nice [really, there's nothing like summer nights in the desert].  I got daiquiri ice, a favorite of mine from childhood.  I love real ice cream, but on a hot summer day (and "hot summer day" where I'm from translates to 120+ degrees with no humidity and glaring sunshine), the cream is just too much. Daiquiri ice was the most refreshing thing out there :) and it hit the spot.

I love my family.  We're all a little nutty, but that keeps things interesting! It was good to see my sisters again and hang out with Daddy a bit.  We really missed you Ray (et al.)!  Hopefully we can all meet up for Christmas--it's been too long since we've all been together (grandkids and spouses included)!

Here's hopin' :)

Pilgrim's Feast (hehe)

Christmas.

I know it's "too early" to be talking about Christmas (ha! not for Byzantines!), but I was very strongly reminded of it today.  We're having some friends over for Thanksgiving this year and I decided it would be fun to make sugar cookies to have for dessert.

I made the dough yesterday (being careful not to sample any--darn food allergies!) and stuck it in the fridge until this afternoon.  I wasn't expecting to be brought back to my childhood holidays. But there I was, remembering all the many times we'd made sugar cookies at Momma's house.

We'd make dozens and dozens of cookies, all shapes, all sizes, and for all the holidays. We'd have turkeys and pilgrims and leaves and pumpkins. There would be stockings and santas and Nativity figures and Christmas trees and presents and reindeer and sleighs.  There would be snowflakes and snowmen and bells and stars and gingerbread men (and women).  Then we would spend countless hours decorating them (with all different colors using only spoons and toothpicks!) for all the different holidays.  There were always sugar cookies around from November through January in our house. It was beautiful :)

So go ahead, siblings, try it. Make some sugar cookie dough, close your eyes, and smell it.  Then take a small taste, and you're in Momma's kitchen, elbows propped up on her butcher block table, kneeling on the bench, waiting to pick away (and devour) more scraps of sugar'd cookie dough.  Next thing you know, you'll be wondering where the sprinkles are so you can shake the sparkle-colored sugar over the lovely cookies before Momma puts them in the oven.  I can already taste the powdered sugar frosting she used to decorate them.

Momma's sugar cookie recipe
Cream in mixer:
--3/4 c crisco (or other solid shortening; using butter makes the cookies come out pretty soft, and more prone to breaking when you decorate them)
--1 c sugar

Add:
--2 eggs
--1 tsp vanilla extract

Sift together and add to liquid ingredients:
--2 1/2 c flour
--1 tsp baking powder
--1 tsp salt

Refrigerate dough for at least 4 hours (I did it overnight--it keeps a few days).  Roll out on to floured surface and cut cookies out.  Bake on ungreased cookie sheet for 6-8 minutes at 400 degrees.

St. Philip's Fast

[I know it's a little early, but T and I are going to NY today and I won't have time to post until we get back.]

Today is the eve of the Feast of St. Philip and (for Byzantines) the eve before the beginning of Advent.  This year, as a Kris Kringle present, I made an Advent Calendar for Taylor's family :)

Hope they like it.  And I hope this post hasn't spoiled the surprise, since it's one day early!

Black's Advent Calendar

Soup Night

Mm... cold weather. The perfect time for soups of all kinds!  Especially soups made from the lasting produce from the warm summer.  During Lent when I was growing up, our parish would have a weekly "soup night" (on Wednesdays).  We would pack our bowls and spoons (usually we used the "motor-home" spoons--not Momma's good silverware) and napkins and cups into the soup night basket.  (Incidentally, sibs, I saw this lady at the farmer's market with that exact same basket! So many memories!)  Ooh, and then when we got to soup night, they'd have fresh bread! and you could smell it all the way outside the parish hall.  Sometimes Momma would make her pull-apart bread (recipe to follow later, hopefully).  That bread with butter and hot soup is a recipe for happiness in a bowl :)

But I digress.  I decided last year (probably due in large part to the chilly frigid Boston winters) that soup night should be more than just a Lenten thing.  Once the weather cools down, I try to do at least one soup a week, and if I made a big enough recipe: PRESTO! instant hot lunches.

------------------------

And so... I made beet soup the other night.  The soup was quite tasty, but the real reason I am posting to highlight my favorite kitchen gadget.

My stick blender!

I didn't know they had nifty things like this until I read about it in a cookbook.  I had done plenty of blended soups before.  Well I knew the tedious process of scooping out all the chunks-of-whatever in the soup, putting them in my regular blender, and returning the blended soup to the pot.  Of course, you'd have to do this several times if you made a big recipe, since not all the solids would fit in the blender at the same time.

And the results were never uniform.  Maybe I didn't do it right, but I always ended up with only semi-smoothly-blended soups, rather than the sweetly creamed soups in the recipe pictures...

And then enlightenment dawned!  I had discovered the easy way to blend my soups.  My stick blender (which was a present from my Sweet P'Taylor) has been the most labor-saving device (compared to scooping, blending, returning to pot, repeating ad nauseam, and cleaning up the plop mess between pot and blender), at the best cost, and the most convenience.  All I have to do is plug it in, stick it in the pot, and push the button.

I rave about it whenever we have friends over for a blended soup :) In just a few minutes, it turns a chunky soup into a smooth-textured delicacy.  And the only thing I have to wash is the bottom half of the stick blender (which, by the way, is dishwasher safe!).

We have the KitchenAid blender right now, available for $50.  But before this one, we had the Cuisinart blender (for $30), which worked beautifully (until we tried to blend some chunked chocolate into a milkshake... that dinna work so well).

The only real improvement in the KitchenAid over the Cuisinart that I've noticed is that the KitchenAid has multiple blending speeds.  (though I've only ever used one, so far). Maybe the lower ones would be better for mashed potatoes? Maybe the higher power ones are better for breakfast shakes or something?  I'd have to read the "d-istructions" (as Daddy would say) to find out.

But in the mean time, as fall wraps its brightly-leafed arms around Boston and chills the air, I will have a steady stream of quickly-blended soups ready to ward off the cold.

Happy fall! Happy soup-making!

Buckwheat Pancakes

I love pancakes.  In some ways, I love them more than waffles because they're easier to make--and to change.  The experimental pancake recipes I've attempted have always turned out better than the waffle-flops.  But pancakes are really tasty, and they're pretty versatile, too.  I can make a whole batch on the weekend, T and I will eat about a quarter of it, and then we'll bag 'em and freeze 'em for the rest of the week.  Instant toaster-breakfast! I like that.

Pancakes were always somewhat of a treat for us, growing up.  Momma would use the Jiffy pancake mix, so they'd be very quick, but it was always a treat because pancakes are much more of a sit-down breakfast type of food, rather than a hurried-rush-before-driving-the-kids-to-school food, a situation for which cold cereal is more fitting :)

As Viv and I grew up, my family started the tradition of Saturday morning breakfasts.  I have some fabulous memories of those!  We'd wake up when we wanted to (Momma was usually up by then anyway, though) and we'd all have a nice sit-down breakfast together, talk about our week, what we intended to do that day (ah, and even the best of intentions often ended in after-breakfast afternoon naps) :) and general pleasant conversation.  I think it was my parents' way of getting to know their "babies" more as young adults than, well, their babies.  Pancakes were a common item on the table those mornings--a huge, heaping stack of white-golden fluffy cakes, ready to be spread with sweet-salty butter and drizzled-just-right with real maple syrup (when we were kids, we liked the "real fake stuff" but our taste buds have since evolved).

My favorite of late have been buckwheat pancakes.  It's a simple recipe, and makes a good number of pancakes.  They're great with syrup or jelly or even peanut butter, and, on cold days, they go very well with a nice steaming cup of tea :)





Buckwheat Pancakes

Sift together:
2 c buckwheat flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp sugar (optional. You can also substitute 2 T molasses, which you would add to the liquid ingredients)

Add and stir till just combined:
3 c buttermilk (or any milk substitute)
2 T melted shortening

On Food... and other things

I have been thinking about food a lot lately.  And by "lately" I mean more along the lines of the past several years.

I don't know precisely when it started.  Perhaps when I got married? maybe when I stopped eating at the campus dining halls? or maybe when I left Momma's homemade meals and went to college?  But thoughts have been ruminating in my head for some time, and I think I have recently come to a few conclusions.

Two particular books helped solidify these conclusions: Nourishing Traditions and Omnivore's Dilemma.  The first I received as a wedding/first anniversary present from a family friend (whose husband is a doctor) and the second I borrowed from T's parents, after they read it. There were many other influences and  nudges along the way, but these two books were the primary drivers.

I don't want this to turn into a debate about nutrition or "the way things should be," or even the way things were "in the good ol' days." I don't want to sound like a nut :)  But still, I do have some very strong opinions about food (unfortunately, anyone who's come over for dinner at our house knows this. I can get... a little carried away).

And so, to the point.

First of all, food is nourishment for our bodies. People want to stay alive, right? So they eat. Good. But the nourishment food offers us, as community beings, isn't only physical.  In many ways, food can nourish us spiritually, too.  John Paul the Great's theology of the body teaches us that there are physical realities that point to spiritual truths.  I think that food (at least to some degree) is the same way.  Good food, eaten in the company of good friends, bringing back good memories, creating new memories, etc., etc., can nourish our souls just as much as the cells in our bodies.

For my birthday two years ago, I received Cold Weather Cooking.  [I highly recommend this book.  Not only are the recipes fabulous but the stories that Chase adds to the recipes make them tastier, somehow.]  We all have our favorite cold weather recipes that remind us of something.  I love soups.  Anytime it's rainy or cloudy or cold outside, it's a "soup" day for me.  It warms up the kitchen and it warms up my body.  Who's to say it doesn't "warm up" my soul, too? Served at a big table, in a warm house, with warm-from-the-oven bread, and surrounded by friends--is there a better recipe for a happy evening? And what about that favorite dish your Mom always made? Why else would it be called comfort food if it didn't bring comfort?

My point is this: food is important stuff. It should be held in high regard. It should be respected.  Pollan has a great description in his book of a microwavable can of soup that's been "re-designed" to fit in the cup holder of your car.  Ooh! the innovation! the convenience!  :Þ  I can't think of a better image to demonstrate the drastically low place food--real food--holds in our society today.  Everything else in our lives these days is fast-paced, erratic, busy, bustling, and frantic.  Let food be something comforting again..

As the main cook in our household, I take food seriously.  I want to feed my family good things that come from a good place.  I want them to be happy with the food they're eating and I want them to be healthy people.  I want them to have a good attitude toward food and to love it without obsessing over it.

I value the traditions that I have inherited with the types of foods I eat, even the little ones. Having certain foods at certain times of year, for instance. The grocery store has been the death of eating seasonally.  It seems the only thing we get seasonally now is candy (ever notice you can never find Candy Corn in February?).

Another example: I like to sit down to eat my breakfast (heck, I like to eat breakfast)--no on-the-go breakfast bars with a latte in a paper cup for me, thankyouverymuch.  And I like family meals--even though we're just a family of two right now, I try to have a sit-down meal every night and chat about our day.  We pray whenever we eat, thanking God for His gifts (T usually adds: "which Annie has made") and asking for that bounty to continue.

So, because we need to eat to survive, food has a very central place in our lives and culture. That should be acknowledged (in a healthy way).  No gluttony (as in: more is always better). No starvation (as in: food = enemy of my figure).  This doesn't mean we can't have decadent foods, but it does mean that those foods have their place and shouldn't be super-sized out of it.  Hold on to eating traditions.  Keep a good balance. Make good food.  And eat it in the company of loved ones.

I have more to say but I think this is enough for one post :)

CHRIST IS RISEN!

Indeed, He is risen!

What a beautiful holiday Easter is!! We went to the Vigil last night at St. Clement's--it was lovely! I always love to see the church so prettily decorated (one of the reasons we were married during the Easter season), and the priests so finely dressed. Truly, Christ is Risen, just as He said!

Mass was wonderful yesterday evening. The church was dark as we walked in and took our seats. After my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I was able to faintly discern the lilies lining the steps before the altar. I could discern an image of the Risen Christ above the Tabernacle, and the church smelled of incense already.

The liturgy began outside before a small coal fire which was blessed. The Easter candle also was blessed and lighted, and we began our procession into the church as the priest sang, "Christ our Light" to which we responded, "Thanks be to God!" As the congregation filled the holy space, our vigil candles were lit, one by one, from the Easter candle and the church was ablaze with candle light. In this ancient light, the Light of Christ, the Exultet was sung by the main celebrant: This is the night... this is the night. Oh happy fault.. oh necessary sin of Adam, that gained for us so great a Redeemer!

Then the liturgy of the word began--three of the seven readings from the Old Testament were read, with psalms in between--all in darkness. The epistle, too, was read in the dark... Then the lights came on as the Gloria began (a bit out of order, I think) and the Alleluia was sung, and the Resurrection Gospel (the Good News) was proclaimed!! I got goose-bumps as the gospel narrative was read--the earth shook, and an angel from heaven came down, rolled away the stone and sat upon it! I can't imagine being the ointment-bearing women seeing such events. But what I love about those women, is that they believed the message and immediately went to tell the disciples. Almost as a "reward" for their faithful action, Jesus meets them on the way! He is THERE before them: their Risen Lord! For three days their world was shattered, but in a moment it was changed and renewed forever. In one moment, unending joy entered their hearts and the Love from God was present to them in a new, ever-permeating, and everlasting way!

The renewal of baptismal promises: I DO reject satan, and all his works, and all his empty promises. I DO believe in God, in Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Spirit. I DO look for the resurrection of the dead, and life everlasting. Amen.

Communion, as always, is especially moving after the Good Friday communion service, to once again witness the miracle of the Eucharist. To be truly one flesh with God... and be a true member of the Body of Christ, devoutly processing to receive Him into their hearts.

And the closing message: Go in peace, Alleluia! ALLELUIA!
Our response, which should be our response every moment of every day: Thanks be to God, Alleluia! ALLELUIA!!
for Christ is RISEN!


..just as He said.

December 13, 2007 - Of Egg Nog, Christmas Trees, and Colored Lights

It's only 12 days to Christmas (I have a countdown on my Google homepage), and I find myself feeling like a little kid again! I have always loved Christmas, but my favorite parts of the Holiday and the Season have changed over the years, and rightly so. But the anticipatory excitement is still there...

I remember working on presents for my parents in "secret" (didn't they always know what we were getting them though?) and teasing them about what a surprise it would be on Christmas morning when we all opened our gifts. Watching the presents under the tree multiply as packages arrived from friends and family and as we finished our presents (we even counted how many we had, occasionally). I still get a thrill making surprises for family, for T, and for our friends! There were the Kris Kringle presents which appeared on our pillow in the morning or on the dining room table next to the Advent Wreath. Singing "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" around the lighted purple candles with all our different voices "making a joyful noise" waiting for Jesus' birth. The Advent paper chains made in school--brought home to tear off one link per day and do the "good deed" listed on the inside. I remember the annual Christmas Pagent which our Catholic school put on and how I (and everyone) always wanted to be a main character in the tableau. I remember the Christmas Eve children's mass where all the CCD kids got to act out the Gospel reading with much pomp and circumstance. After the Mass, my family would all pile into the car and take a "scenic" route home looking at Christmas lights, singing carols, and eating hamburgers (yes, that was our Christmas eve dinner--Hamburger Stand).

I remember waking up at 3 in the morning and walking around the house, dimly lit by the twinkling tree lights and various Christmas villages set up with lights in the windows, gazing in wonder at the plethora of gifts newly set out for our discovery.

The Santa cookies were eaten and the milk gone; the Christmas Kringle (pronounced: kring-ly) was on the table waiting to be sliced for breakfast; and our stockings were stuffed to overflowing.

---

Then there was a Christmas morning one year when my younger sister and I woke up at 7am. The sun was up (we always had to wait until sunrise to open our Santa presents) and mom and dad were up too (we usually had to drag them out of bed)! We felt "grown up" and that we had somehow "missed" the experience of Christmas. But... I still get giddy when I wrap presents. I love to decorate the house and to revel in the warmth of the home while the cold weather blusters outside. I love the soft glow of Christmas lights (on a tree, in the window, on a garland) at night after the sun has gone down. I love the sparkle and tinkle of the ornaments on the tree. I love to bake!! cookies, cakes, candies, drinks (nothing ever tops momma's home-made egg nog!). I love Christmas music, movies, and letters.

And this is T's and my first Christmas "to ourselves." When we were dating we each went home for C'mas; when we were engaged we went to my parents' house; our first married Christmas was at T's parents' house. Not that we mind "sharing" our Christmas, of course. There are few things better than spending time with family at the holidays! But.. we got our OWN tree this year! We decorated it with our ornaments--ornaments we bought on our honeymoon, ornaments we were given as wedding presents, ornaments from our childhood. We're beginning our own traditions and customs.

I will still make the Christmas Morning Kringle, just like Momma always did. We will sing the Byzantine Advent prayers every night, just like T's family does. We will get Kris Kringle presents and leave out cookies for Santa (T says "Sure we can do that. I like cookies!"). Then when we have children, we can tell them the stories of our first Christmas in Boston; about our first (small) tree and the presents we got. About how it might be "Mommy's first white Christmas." What we had for dinner (Christmas roast, mmmmm!)--how we started most of the traditions they will be familiar with when they ask us how it all got started.. So here's to Christmas--to traditions old and new; to egg nog, colored lights, sparkles, and lots of singing to the New Born King!