The Kitchen

I love the sunshine in the kitchen,
The glory of the light awakens
All the familiar textures of pot and china.
This is the home of the house,
The center of its warmth
The articulation of its love.
In the rise of bread, the crust of pie,
And the richness of gravy.
It is the place of your caring.
Fleshed out in the daily details,
Too small to be noted one by one,
But each constructing the heart of the house.

Your delight in us is incarnated here,
And this is the place of our true receiving.
Here we come hungry, thristy and in our need,
To meet the kindness of your hands.
And your friends came,
Finding a warmth they sought and a love they craved.
Not a pretentious place,
A good cause or a moral crusade.
If you will, another Nazareth,
Hidden in the wilderness of the world.
Where kindness feeds a poor Christ and his friends,
And bids them come in from the dark.

–Tim Marks

On a night like this I could wish for wisdom,
To sit outside my kitchen door
In the long twilight hours, draining my glass
And offering my companions more.
What could be better. . . ?
The breeze in our light summer clothing
And blowing the pages of our open Bibles,
Speaking of this world that comes from nothing.

–Peter Marshall

I love poetry, so here’s one that has a good word of encouragment for us women. It was written by Robert Mannyng of Brunne in 1325. Language was a tad different in those days, so the words in parentheses translate the old words. February seems to be a good month to focus on love, don’t you think?

A Woman’s Love

Nothing is to man so dear
As woman’s love in good manere (manner)
A good woman is man’s bliss
Where her love right and steadfast is.

There is no solace under heaven
Of all that a man may nevene (name)
That should a man so much glew (gladden)
As a good woman that loveth true.
None is dearer in God’s herd
Than a chaste woman with lovely word.

Consider, O my soul, what morn is this!
Wherein the eternal Lord of all things made,
For us poor mortals, and our endless bliss,
Came down from heaven; and, in a manger laid
The first, rich, offerings of our ransom paid:
Consider, O my soul, what morn is this !

Consider what estate of fearful woe
Had then been ours, had he refused this birth;
From sin to sin tossed vainly to and fro,
Hell’s playthings, o’er a doomed and helpless earth!
Had he from us withheld his priceless worth,
Consider man’s estate of fearful woe!

Consider what joys he bids thee rise,
Who comes, himself, life’s bitter cup to drain!
Ah! look on this sweet Child, whose innocent eyes
Ere all be done, shall close in mortal pain,
That thou at last Love’s Kingdom may’st attain:
Consider to what joys he bids thee rise!

Consider all this wonder, O my soul;
And in thine inmost shrine make music sweet!
Yea, let this world, from furthest pole to pole,
Join in thy praises this dread birth to greet;
Kneeling to kiss thy Saviour’s infant feet!
Consider all this wonder, O my soul.

Selwyn Image, 1849-1930
Nativity, 1654 Rembrandt van Rijn

from The Mystery of Holy Night by Dietrich Bonhoeffer

If God chooses Mary as his instrument,
if God himself want to come into this world
in the manger at Bethlehem,
that is no idyllic family affair,
but the beginning of a complete turnaround,
a reordering of everything on this earth.
If we wish to take part in the Advent and Christmas event,
then we cannot simply be bystanders or onlookers,
as if we were at the theater,
enjoying all the cheerful images.
No, we ourselves are swept up into the action there,
into this conversion of all things.
We have to play our part too on this stage,
For the spectator
is already an actor.
We cannot withdraw.

What part, then, do we play?
Pious shepherds, on bended knee?
Kings who come bearing gifts?
What sort of play is this, where Mary becomes the mother of God?
Where God enters the world in the lowliness of the manger?
The judgment of the world and its redemption—
that is taking place here.
And the Christ child in the manger is himself the one
who pronounces the judgment and the redemption of the world.
He repels the great and the powerful.
He puts down the mighty from their thrones.
He humbles the arrogant,
his arm overpowers all the proud and the strong,
he raises what is lowly and makes it great and splendid
in his compassion.
Therefore we cannot approach his manger
as if it were the cradle of any other child.
Those who wish to come to his manger
find something is happening within them.

He was a born loser,
accident-prone too;
never won a lottery,
married a girl who
couldn’t cook, broke
his leg the day before
the wedding
and forgot the ring.
He was the kind
who ended up behind a post
in almost any
auditorium. Planes
he booked to fly on
were delayed
by engine trouble
with sickening regularity.
His holidays at the beach
were almost always
ruined by rain. All
his apples turned out
wormy. His letters
came back marked
“Moved, left no
address.” And it was
his car that was cited
for speeding
from among a flock of others
going 60 in a
55 mile zone.

So it was a real shocker
when he found himself
elected, chosen by Grace
for Salvation, felt
the exhilaration of
an undeserved and wholly
unexpected Joy
and tasted, for the
first time, the Glory
of being on
the winning side.

Lucy Shaw