Archive for December, 2018

Come Like Frost Track #2 – Mysterion

Spruitje, mijn hoop (Letters from the Coast)

In 2017 my best friend from my university days had a baby girl, and I became a godparent. Her parents are fairly private with photos and information, so to respect that, I’ll refer to her as “Spruitje,” a nickname I gave her which means “little sprout” in Dutch. This was a natural progression from my first nickname for her, which was “Boontje,” or “little bean.” The first time I ever met her, she was only two weeks old and often curled up, very like a wee bean. Perhaps when she is an adult I’ll switch to “Boomtje,” or “little tree,” although I suspect that despite my best efforts she will always be “Spruitje” to me.

My mother’s elder sister married a Dutch man, and so I knew some of the peculiarities of Dutch culture in a very peripheral sort of way before I met my friend. I marveled over my uncle’s wooden gardening clogs, learned the correct pronunciation of the name Marijke, and received many hand-knitted sweaters from my cousins’ Oma at Christmastime.

My best friend was born to a Dutch mother and an American father, and proudly taught me more Dutch traditions, including some lullabyes (“Slaap, kindtje, slaap!”), the word for “rogue” (schurk), the joys of boterkoek and stroopwaffel, and finally the yearly celebration of Sinterklaas.

Sinterklaas is held on the Feast of St. Nicholas (today, if you’re wondering why I’m writing about this) and is a day of gift giving and festivities. The part my husband and I have been most privileged to enjoy so far has been the receiving of chocolate letters in the mail from my best friend, who now lives with her partner and Spruitje in Utrecht.

This will be Spruitje’s second Christmas. On a video call the other day, it seemed that she recognized me, giggling and pointing, and something happened inside me that has never happened before.

This little person, who came into my life at a time where I had barely managed to escape from an emotional abyss by the skin of my teeth; who was so small and fragile that no matter what happened I wanted to be there for her even across an ocean and a continent, to try in my own small ways to help her grow into something far beyond what I could ever hope to become…

This little person was now growing and would one day be able to say my name, to tell me about her day at school, to maybe ask me questions she doesn’t dare ask her mother, to grow from tiny boon to little spruit to towering boom (and her mother is 6 feet tall so you know she’ll truly be a boom), to seize the treasures of life on her very own having been raised up by everyone who loves her.

There is something special about this little person connected to me not by blood or marriage but love alone. The notion that what I feel for her is merely a biological imperative to protect is so much straw and feathers in the face of the love I felt last summer, staring together down a slowly darkening forest path out beyond her grandparents’ house as we were caressed by an evening breeze and (tipsily emotional), I whispered, “Everything around you is alive. Everything around you is your family. You are a part of all things.”

In the season of Advent, we are called to contemplate the return of the Messiah, who will wake us from our sleep and invite us into a restored world of justice and peace. St. Nicholas, heavily sanitized in secular culture, was actually a saviour of children and young women, rescuing them from abuse and degradation in countless stories. He is also the patron saint of seafarers, those who sail into the unknown seeking adventure, and those who brave wind and waves to bring those of us on the shore the things we need every day to survive.

This little person with whom I share only love is surely the only gift worth thanking St. Nicholas and God for on this Sinterklaas feast and in this season of Advent as I look ahead to an unknown future which can surely not be without hope, having such a child (and indeed, so many children) in it.

Woorden kunnen mijn liefde voor jou niet omschrijven, Spruitje. Prettige sinterklaas!

Resistance Lectionary Part 23: Mary, Queen of Resistance

Today’s Citation: Luke 1:46-56

The familiar tune echoed in my brain and bones as we stood outside the courtroom, enveloped in the smell of sage and the heartbeat of drums: the women’s warrior song.

A gift to the people from Martina Pierre of the Lil’wat nation, I’d heard it many times before I was invited to sing it with many others by Audrey Siegl of the Musqueam nation at an event to mourn victims of the opioid crisis at Christ Church Cathedral in May of 2017. I still remember the look of delight that crossed her face when I told her it was my first time singing it instead of just listening. “Oh!” she cried. “Let me hug you!”

Now, outside the Supreme Court at 800 Smithe Street in Vancouver, we sang it for two friends of mine who were about to be sentenced for their actions as land and water protectors on Burnaby Mountain.

Thousands of years ago, Mary sang with her cousin Elizabeth of a world where justice truly reigns, and righteousness embraces  peace.

Luke’s is the only Gospel that includes this song (and many others). While Matthew tells the story from Joseph’s perspective (and John and Mark remain conspicuously silent on birth narratives save the most abstract references to beginnings), Luke grounds the story of Jesus’ birth in the muddy honesty of unplanned pregnancy and oppression. But once grounded, Mary shoots up from the earth as a trumpet lily, telling her story of liberation and God’s overturning of the old order of slavery.

The story of Mary is also, in some ways, deeply queer. This was explored at length in Guest, Goss, and West’s fanciful Queer Bible Commentary. While not the most scholarly of sources in some ways, it does provide creative reframing of biblical stories in a way that challenges the heteronormativity and formality of past hermeneutics.

In the section on Luke, the story of Mary is one in which Mary is compelled to participate in the work of God through full and enthusiastic consent, and is thereby made pregnant by a force beyond gender and biology, a force in which there could therefore be none of the baggage of oppression and communicative breakdown that so easily exists in any sexual encounter, particularly one in which a child is the result.

Mary is singular, literally, a woman whose sexuality in this instance is fully her own. She welcomes the mystical encounter and its consequences, which are spoken only to her, and is then given complete control of the narrative that follows. Young, brown, living in occupied territory, truly the lowest of the low in her own society, Mary is treated with the utmost respect by God’s sacred agent, and is given complete control. Filled with the Holy Spirit, she becomes a prophet of a new era, an unknowable era in which women and indeed all of creation will be given the freedom to be themselves and offer themselves up as instruments for the continuation of that peace, however that might be made manifest.

Come Like Frost Track #1 – The Rose Carol

Come Like Frost starts December 2nd!

Hi, everyone!

Just a quick post to let y’all know that my Advent devotional album, “Come Like Frost,” drops its first track this Sunday!

Every year since 2015 I’ve produced an album for both Lent and Advent, with the bulk of the material being original devotional compositions. I make these albums myself on my laptop with Reaper, at home with my instruments.

This is my third Advent album, after “Sancta Viscera” in 2017 and “Wild Star” in 2016. “Come Like Frost” includes two traditional pieces and six originals, some of which have not yet been performed in public.

Tracks are posted week by week for free on Soundcloud, and I can make physical copies available on request for $10. You can also ask for “Synaxis,” a double pack which includes “Come Like Frost” as well as this year’s Lenten devotional, “Holding Fast,” for $20.

100% of proceeds from CDs sold are given to a ministry in which I am currently serving. This year’s will benefit Hineni House, the intentional community where I serve as community director and chaplain.

Tracks will drop Saturday nights and Sunday evenings. I’ll cross-post them here and on Facebook.

I hope you enjoy the music as much as I enjoyed producing it!