Right Glory – Orthodoxy in Its Own Language

When I was in grad school, I had a term paper graded and returned to me. In it, was a phrase, circled in red, with an explanation and an exclamation mark. It read: “Double modal!” The offending phrase was “might could.” I looked at the phrase, which seemed perfectly acceptable to my ear, and puzzled over it. I consulted my wife, the English major. She politely explained to me that my very…

Put the Dickens Back in Christmas

In the late 1600’s in colonial Boston, the celebration of Christmas was against the law. Indeed, anyone evidencing the “spirit of Christmas” could be fined five shillings. In the early 1800’s, Christmas was better known as a season for rioting in the streets and civil unrest. However, in the mid-1800’s some interesting things changed the cultural response to the feast and, in 1870, Christmas was declared a federal holiday (which is to…

Echoes of a Fresh Start

Out of the mouth of babes and nursing infants You have perfected praise, Because of Your enemies, That You may silence the enemy and the avenger. (Psalm 8:2) There are many things about the “elder” years of my life that I prefer to my youth. Had I known then what I know now, perhaps the statement would not be true. Nonetheless, the providence of God has preserved me and brought me to…

Every Generation

In my childhood, it was not unusual to hear someone ask, “Who are your people?” It was a semi-polite, Southernism designed to elicit essential information about a person’s social background. The assumption was that you, at best, could only be an example of your “people.” It ignored the common individualism of the wider culture, preferring the more family or clan-centered existence of an older time. It was possible to be “good people”…

The Blessed Virgin compared to the Air we Breathe

  Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889) was a Jesuit priest (a convert from Anglicanism) and perhaps the greatest modern (?) poet of the English Language (ok, he’s my favorite). I first posted this poem back in 2007, making among my earliest postings. It was brought to attention by my daughter, Khouria Kathryn Rogers, dear to my heart. Like my other children, she is also in every breath I take. The Blessed Virgin compared to…

Have a Dickens of a Christmas

In the late 1600’s in colonial Boston, the celebration of Christmas was against the law. Indeed, anyone evidencing the “spirit of Christmas” could be fined five shillings. In the early 1800’s, Christmas was better known as a season for rioting in the streets and civil unrest. However, in the mid-1800’s some interesting things changed the cultural response to the feast and, in 1870, Christmas was declared a federal holiday (which is to…

The Communion of Friends

You meet someone and like them. You slowly get to know them. Conversation and sharing, listening and learning, a picture or a reality begin to emerge. You think about them when they’re away. You’re aware that you matter to them as well. The thought of anything hurting them is painful. This is friendship. We easily reduce friendship to a set of shared emotions. Why we like someone else, we can imagine, rests on…

The Ark Returns to the Temple

One of the most devastating events in the history of ancient Israel was the capture of the Ark of the Covenant by the Philistines. In scenes almost reminiscent of Steven Spielburg, however, plagues began to befall the Philistines and they sent word to Israel to please come take their Ark back. The story of its return includes its arrival in Jerusalem and King David’s rather problematic dancing in the streets to welcome…

A Royal Nun Sees Her Angel

In the service of Holy Baptism, the priest specifically prays that God will assign an “angel of light” to the life of the child being baptized. In Matthew 18:10, Christ makes reference to the guardian angels of children who “always behold the face of my Father.” Their role is the guarding of our salvation. It is the work of God’s “secret hand” in our lives. That secret, however, is sometimes seen openly.…

St. Spyridon’s Shoes – and My Shoes

  Earlier this year I was making my way to Antiochian Village for a Writers’ Conference. Walking across the expanse of the Atlanta Airport, I became aware of something odd about my shoes. At first, I thought something had gotten into my shoe, a rock, or some such thing. Then I thought that maybe there was something strange about the footbed. One of my toes seemed to be digging unusually deep as…