Author: mhelbert

The Wheel

Published by mhelbert on December 27, 2018

Wheel turns inexorably onward.
Where does it lead?
Nowhere.
Turning, it turns within another…larger.
Others attach and spin faster and faster.
Yet, going nowhere.
Only round and round and round she goes!
Where she stops, nobody knows!

Hands on a face.
Covering tears.
Hiding zits.
Put away shame.
Yet, the wheel turns inexorably onward.

Why do they call them hands?
They look more like spears.
Weapons in the hands of the wheels.
But, the wheels have no hands.

Grow; Age; Rot…
What if the turning stopped?
Would that keep the rot away?
Would the rot rot?

Wheels in the sky keep turning.
When to sow; when to reap.
When to fertilize the seed.

The wheel begins another turn.

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The Day After Christmas…

Published by mhelbert on December 26, 2018

Well, we made it. Another Christmas holiday in the books. The hustle and the bustle have hustled and bustled stage left. They’ll be kept in storage and refurbished for next year. No more Mariah Carey’s requesting “All I Want for Christmas is You.” Drum and fife, “Pat a Pan,” cleaned and put into their cases. Soon, the trees and decorations in our homes will also be returned to their own storage boxes and shelves. We’ll clean up the glitter and finish eating the cookies and candy. Those stockings that were hung by the chimney with care have been emptied of the goodies that Old St. Nick filled them with.

The build up to the holiday was, for many, fraught with anxiety and stress. Yesterday was the culmination of all of that nervous energy. Now, the pressure has been released and we can get back to normal life. “Survived again!”

For others the slow rise toward Christmas was a journey in growing awe and wonder. Every gift made or purchased. Every card received or sent. Every snowflake falling from a slate, gray sky. All part of the mystery and holiness of the season.

Christmas has always been a dreaded thing. Too much stuff to pack into one month. Too many unreasonable expectations. Seasonal Affective Disorder doesn’t help much, either. But this year it was different. The anxiety level was good. Yeah, there were moments when it felt as though the roof might cave in. Thankfully, those moments were few and far between. For those who know me, this was a Christmas miracle!

For me, too.

What was different this year? I was on vacation from work. However, I take this time off every year. I had all shopping and wrapping done almost a week early. That’s a first! I’m usually ‘wrapping’ that up on Christmas day! Maybe that helped a bit. I wasn’t rushed right up to the last minute. I don’t think that alone could bring about a change in attitude like I experienced.

It could be that this was the first Christmas in I don’t know how many years that I spent completely sober. It’s been nearly 12 months since I had anything at all to drink. That may have been fruit that has grown. I don’t think that was at the root of things this year.

No, I think that this year I took time to reflect on things. I awoke each day and took time to sit before my God in silence. I found something in that time that I hadn’t seen too much of before. It was Grace and Presence that evoked Thanks in me. Yeah, I think that was the difference this year. I found a way to express gratitude. Not just to God. But, gratitude for the people around me. Hey, we were all going through this together, weren’t we? So, I was thankful for companions on the way. We’ve shared struggles and dashed hopes, for sure. We also had times of triumph and dreams realized.

This year it wasn’t Me Against the World. And, I am thankful for that. It was Us walking the path together.

I include all of You in that “Us.”

So, thank you. May you be blessed now, and as we rush toward the flip of another calendar page.

Thank you!

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It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Published by mhelbert on December 25, 2018

The song says that this is the “Most Wonderful Time of the Year!”
I really want to believe that.
But, it’s so bloody hard.
It’s not hard because of all the chaos and turmoil that is churning around the globe.
Politics and the economy effect people, for sure. And, unless you’re part of the 1%, the effect
isn’t necessarily good.
Then there are the wars and famines and stuff. Those things are never good
Families break up, (or, are broken up by the aforementioned war and stuff).
The news carries stories of robbery, rape, murder, fires, floods, etc. that destroy people
and all of their hopes and dreams.
No, these aren’t the things that make this time of the year a tad less than “Wonderful.”
I think that there’s a presumption out there that because of an event 2,000 years ago we
are somehow special. We are made in the image and likeness of some Creator God that
has chosen us to stand on the necks of others. The perceptions that we, at least in the West,
have of ourselves is that we are ‘exceptional.’
But, are we…really?
There’s another story that’s told this time of year. One that may truly be exceptional. A story that was told a very long time ago. A story that should show us what it means to be human in this world. This story talks about vulnerability and danger. There is action and escape. More importantly, though, I think that the story reveals God’s heart in a way that all of the “Thou Shalt Not” commands can never possibly show.
So, let’s take a look, shall we?
“In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to their own town to register.
So Joseph also went up form the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.
And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.’
Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.’
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, ‘Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.’
So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby , who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.”
Take a few minutes. Read it again. Chew on it.
Where are all of the ‘exceptional’ people? You know, the ones with money, prestige, and power. Where are the governments who wage war on other nations? And, their own people. Where is Wall Street, Madison Ave., and all of the other centers of economic power?
I don’t see them. Do you?
I only see a family in a backwater town in an occupied country trying to get by.
So, how is it that so many of us simply don’t get it? We go about life day by day without a care or a clue. “We’re special!” we tell ourselves.
Are we?
No, I think not.
That family in the story was special. As are all of the other families just like them throughout the world.
This is the Most Wonderful Time of the Year?

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Magnificat – The Song of Mary

Published by mhelbert on December 24, 2018

I really wish that there was an image of Mary with a fist raised in defiance. Something to really illustrate the strength of that young woman.

Yesterday at church we used the Song of Mary, or the Magnificat, for a responsive reading. During the sermon our Priest asked us to read it again. Then, he challenged us to take our bulletins home and spend some time reflecting on these words of Jesus’ mother.
Before that challenge, though, he shared some background for the song. He did this, of course, to color our own meditation on it. Well, that is his job; to guide and instruct.
He helped us to understand that at the time Mary was pregnant with Jesus, she was extremely vulnerable.
She was a young woman, probably a teenager.
She was not married. (At least officially.)
She was not well to do. (It was implied in the text that she came from a poor family.)
All of these are what we would call ‘risk factors.’ Any one of which could be life threatening. All of them together? She was in real peril for her life. At the very least, she could be cut off from her people. Her family, friends…her God. And, at worst? The Law of God stated that someone who had committed adultery should be taken outside the town and stoned to death.
And, yet, when God’s messenger came to tell her that God had taken notice of her and desired that she would be the conduit through whom the salvation of her people would arrive, well, her response was epic.
“Behold, the servant of the Lord. According to your word, may it be come to me.”
Wow! Stop to consider that for a minute. A stranger just showed up in Mary’s room and informed her that God thought it would be a great idea if she became pregnant. Right! But wait! There’s more! The child that would be conceived would be called “the Son of the Most High!” Mary, a young woman from a backwater town, who had nothing to offer anyone, let alone God, offered all that she could. Herself.
She knew the risks. She understood consent.
She still gave.
So, when the story tells of her arrival at her cousin, Elizabeth’s home, and Liz’s own child leaps within her because of the child that is growing within Mary, Mary’s own joy cannot be held.
In the face of all of the powers that be who would condemn her for getting pregnant and those who would throw the Law at her, she stood in defiance and gave the praise and glory to the One Who had performed this great act of power.
With that in mind, her is Mary’s Song. Read it. Reflect on it.*
“My soul praises the greatness of the Lord!
And, my spirit rejoiced in God my Savior!
For, He has noticed the lowliness of His servant.
For, Behold! From this time all generations will consider me blessed!
For the Mighty One has done great things to me.
And, His name is Holy!
His mercy is to generations and generations of those who revere Him.
He has performed mighty deeds with His powerful arm,
He scattered the arrogant intent of their heart.
He tore down the powerful from their thrones,
And exalted the lowly.
Those who hunger He satisfied with good things,
And, the rich he sent away empty.
He has come to the aid of His child, Israel,
To remember mercy,
As He spoke to our fathers; to Abraham and his descendants into Eternity.”
*(Translation mine.)
May you have a truly blessed holiday!
And, take a minute to remember a strong, young woman whose own humility before
her God made this all possible.

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On the Eve of Christmas Eve

Published by mhelbert on December 23, 2018

It’s almost Christmas day. Schedules are hectic with trying to get all of the wrapping and baking and preparations finished. So, I may not publish new posts everyday this week.
Today, I’m reposting one I wrote last year.
I think it’s still pretty relevant.

As those of us who celebrate Christmas prepare for the Big Day on Wednesday, I have a reminder for us all.
There is more Reason for this Season than many of us consider while we’re buying and wrapping and decorating and cooking and singing all in preparation for our Christmassing.
Let me share a bit from an old story…..
“It was a long night, if it were only a night; but Scrooge had his doubts of this, because the Christmas Holidays appeared to be condensed into the space of time they passed together. It was strange, too, that while Scrooge remained unaltered in his outward form, the Ghost grew older, clearly older. Scrooge had observed this change, but never spoke of it, until they left a children’s Twelfth Night party, when, looking at the Spirit as they stood together in an open place, he noticed that its hair was grey.
‘Are spirits; lives so short?’ asked Scrooge.
‘My life upon this globe, is very brief,’ replied the Ghost. ‘It ends to-night.’
‘To-night!’ cried Scrooge.
‘To-night at midnight. Hark! The time is drawing near.’
The chimes were ringing the three quarters past eleven at that moment.
‘Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask,’ said Scrooge, looking intently at the Spirit’s robe, ‘but I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw?’
‘It might be a claw, for the flesh there is upon it,’ was the Spirit’s sorrowful reply. ‘Look here.’
From the foldings of its robe, it brought two children; wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable. They knelt down at its feet, and clung upon the outside of its garment.
‘Oh, Man! Look here. Look, look, down here!’ exclaimed the Ghost.
They were a boy and girl. Yellow, meager, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.
Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude.
‘Spirit! Are they yours?’ Scrooge could say no more.
‘They are Man’s,’ said the Spirit, looking down upon them. ‘And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!’ cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand towards the city. ‘Slander those who tell it ye! Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse. And abide the end!’
‘Have they no refuge or resource?’ cried Scrooge.
‘Are there no prisons?’ said the Spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words. ‘Are there no workhouses?’
The bell struck twelve.

[Dickens, Charles. Stories for Christmas. Platinum Press Inc. New York, 1999. Pp. 72-74.]”

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Jesus Never Ate Chocolate

Published by mhelbert on December 22, 2018

When I was on Facebook, twitter, and tumblr I would share from time to time links to blogs and articles that I thought might interest my friends and followers. I still think it’s a good thing to share the thoughts of others.

So, here is a link to a blogpost by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat. I’ve followed her blog at the Velveteen Rabbi for a while. She is a kindred spirit whom I appreciate very much.

Please take a minute to read and reflect on her poem.

Jesus Never Ate Chocolate

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The Most Magical Time of the Year

Published by mhelbert on December 21, 2018

It’s that time of year again. The season changes from Autumn to Winter. We begin the journey toward Spring and New Life. It’s also called the most magical time of the year. Do you believe in magic?
I don’t mean the hocus pocus of Penn and Teller.
Nor, do I mean the song by the Lovin’ Spoonful.
I mean Magic.
Something that cannot be empirically explained.
A world where the laws of physics that exist in our world
simply don’t hold anymore.
How about ‘Spirit’? Sentient beings who may, or may not, inhabit the World of Magic.
Let’s tease this out a bit more.
Do you believe that Magic and Spirit can interact with us in THIS world?
Well? Do you?
I think that these ‘Other’ things are, in fact, a reality.
Let me explain…
In order to see these places, a special tool must be used. It’s a tool called “Child-Like Faith.” And, it’s not just for kids! But, children seem to come about it more naturally than we who are older and wiser. Children are naturally aware of a reality that can’t be measured or quantified. They seem to be able to intuit things that we Olders find it necessary to study and explain.
I think that this is something more than mere belief. Olders can “believe” in something if we can find a tangible basis for it. Like a book or something. But, kids don’t need a book to tell them to believe. They can stand in wide-eyed wonder and awe as the white, fuzzy top of a dandelion wafts away on the breeze.
It’s Magical!
They are able to enter into a story and see and smell the forests where fairies dwell and the oceans that contain wonders that no human eye has ever seen.
It’s Magical!
Who are we to say that such a place doesn’t exist? Perhaps, the people who would say that such belief is delusional or ignorant are actually the ones who are delusional and ignorant!
There are stories in every culture that tell of worlds that are inhabited by beings that no biology book has ever described. Things that Darwin did not see in his travels. But, Odysseus did. Many of these stories were told for training and morality. Aesop’s Fables and countless others that carry messages that are used to form our ethical foundations. But, there are many other stories that don’t fall into that category. Stories where magic and spirits are real and the world of the senses are foiled. Could these stories be windows into real worlds that truly exist? Places that inspire Awe and Wonder in children?
Let’s speculate a bit.
Our empirical sciences point to various electro-chemical reactions in our brains as the true source of creativity. With this in mind, we have created ways to exercise and stimulate these reactions. With enough exercise writers, musicians, artists, and others who visualize thoughts into reality can strengthen their craft and ‘Create.’ And, there you have it, Ladies and Gentlemen. Scientifically proven…there’s nothing special about it. And, absolutely nothing magical.
But, what if?
What if there is something within each person that can be attuned to some other reality? Of course, we would think that science would have identified such an organ, or gland, or something by now. Right? They have pretty much mapped the brain. They can see how various stimuli ‘light up’ different parts of the brain. They can measure and quantify the results of these stimuli. Can they identify the source? What if there is no external stimulus? What reveals different worlds to the writer? Where do melodies and harmonies derive their existence? Where in the world did Picasso get his inspiration?
I’m just a guy who imagines things. I have no idea where the science has or hasn’t traveled. But, what if there is something that lies quietly within us? Some latent ability that enables us to ‘see’ other realities where Magic and Spirit dwell?
That would be truly Magical!

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The Nativity – Revisited

Published by mhelbert on December 20, 2018

Here’s the annual repost of my take on Jesus’ birth at Bethlehem. If you have read my blog you know that I do not hold to the whole “Away In A Manger” story. That story really has nothing at all to do with 1st Century Palestinian life. I believe that this story is a better representation of that. Read with an open heart and mind. Perhaps, we may find a greater understanding of who Jesus was and our part in His family.

The caravan moved slowly up toward Jerusalem. It had been a long journey from Galilee through Samaria. We could not travel very fast because of the young, pregnant woman. Most of the caravan stopped in Jerusalem. We, however, had a few more miles to go to get to our ancestral home of Bethlehem.

We entered the town and located the home of Joseph’s cousin. Entering, we greeted those already gathered. “Shalom! Baruch hashem Adonai!” “Peace! Bless the name of the Lord!” Unpacking our donkeys, we noticed that there were a lot of people already present. It seems that the whole clan had answered Caesar’s demand that we return for this census. Joseph helped Mary up to the living quarters while I got fodder for the donkeys. As I turned to climb the stairs I saw Joseph gesturing angrily.

“No guest room?! My wife is going to give birth at any moment! You must make room for her and the child!”

“No, we cannot. There are too many people. We cannot have one room given to her alone.”

“Wait,” one of Joseph’s aunts said. “We can fix a place for her down below. There is plenty of fresh straw. And, we can put blankets down to help make her more comfortable.”

Mary, being young and new to the family looked at Joseph and nodded. She was already suspect, being pregnant already. She did not want to give the family any more reason to look down on her.

Evening came. Mary was having contractions every few minutes. One of the aunts acted as midwife. They made Mary as comfortable as possible.

Joseph was upstairs with the rest of the family. He was pacing the floor. One cousin scolded him, “Sit down and relax! Everything will be fine. This is not the first child ever born!”

But, everyone knew that many first pregnancies did not end well. Especially, when the mother was as young as Mary. In addition, both Joseph and Mary were anxious about the child. That strange man that had appeared nine months ago had said some very strange things about this child. As the birth drew near, the young parents wondered what kind of creature was about to enter their world.

It seemed as though Mary had been laboring for hours. With a final push the child arrived. With a cry, the child took his first breath. The midwife lifted the child and tied off the umbilicus.

“It’s a boy!”

Joseph gave a sigh of relief. The others began to pour bowls of wine and a party celebrating the birth of a first-born son began. They sang and danced and drank. When Mary was cleaned up and the child wrapped in clean cloths, Joseph was summoned to come down. He looked compassionately at Mary. She was so strong and brave…no longer a child. Joseph reached into the feeding trough in which his newborn son had been laid. He picked him up.

“My son, Yeshua!”

A little later I looked up and saw a small group of people entering the house. By the staves that they were carrying I could tell that they were shepherds.

“Who let this rabble in?” I thought. Shepherds were not usually welcome among respectable people. They walked over to where the child lay sleeping.

“We were out in the field tending the sheep. Suddenly, there was a great light in the sky! We feared that something was going to take our sheep and harm us! Then, we heard a voice saying that a child had been born…here…in Bethlehem. The voice said that this child is the Messiah who we have been waiting for!”

Another shepherd spoke up saying, “Then there was a great host praising God! They gave God glory and said that peace was to reign between God and those whom God favors!”

We poured bowls of wine for the shepherds and continued to celebrate throughout the night.

However, Mary had a puzzled look on her face. She said nothing!

May God Bless you all and Merry Christmas

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The Eyes Have It

Published by mhelbert on December 20, 2018

They say that the eyes are the window of the Soul.

Not so much that they allow light to enter,

But, they allow the light within to radiate outward.

People may change the color and style of their hair or the shape of their nose.

Grimace and pout; Giggle and laugh.

Fold arms and raise angry fists.

Dance a jig or march a dirge.

The eyes, though, are truthful.

Nothing is hid from one who knows how to see.

Open your eyes! And, I will see your soul’s light reflected in my heart!

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Wednesday Musings

Published by mhelbert on December 19, 2018

Yesterday was interesting. And, not because anything out of the ordinary happened.
I had lunch with the Rector of the church I’ve attended since September.
But, before I left to meet Fr. Alex, I watched “Ghosts of Christmas Eve” with
The Trans Siberian Orchestra. I really like TSO. Being a musician I appreciate
what the arrangers did. Especially, since I cut my musical teeth on Prog Rock from
the early 70s, the mash-up of classically inspired shredding guitars is a favorite.
So, when the first scene opened I found it strange that my emotions began to surface.
In fact, until late in the program it took a concerted effort to not sit there and bawl like
a baby. Now, I’ve had music affect me emotionally before. Certain passages and sequences
of notes charge me up. Chills and constricted arrector pili muscles appear on my arms.
Yesterday was different, though. And, honestly, I have no clue why. The script and acting
in the program were mediocre at best. Contrived and frivolous at worst. Was it simply
the music? I don’t think so. The wave of emotion began well before the music really took off.
Maybe, it was the idea of the young runaway spending Christmas Eve in a run down old
theater. The old story goes that no one should be alone on Christmas. As I write this, I’m
still not sure what the deal was.
But, I’m kinda glad for it. It proves, once again, that I am not Mr. Spock. I do have emotions
that surface and cause me to reflect. And, in spite of everything, I am connected to other
people and the World at large in ways that are not always predictable.
Maybe, that’s a good thing.

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