Christmas

Jesus left his Father’s house to sojourn among us—as St. John’s gospel says, “To his own he came, yet his own did not accept him.” (John 1:11)  In Jesus’ incarnation, God gave us an opportunity to welcome his son, but he didn’t force us; instead, he invited us to welcome him.  He wanted us to see divinity in the poor, simple stranger.

     From the beginning of scripture, we see God’s concern for the stranger, the outsider, the immigrant.  Mosaic law says, “When an alien resides with you in your land, do not molest him.  You shall treat the alien among you no differently than the natives born among you, have the same love for yourself, for you were once aliens in the land of Egypt.” (Leviticus 19:33-34)  Again, in Exodus 22:21, “You shall not oppress or molest an alien, for you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt.”

     And this brings us to the story of why the people of Israel were once aliens in the land of Egypt.  It was because of natural disaster, a famine, that Jacob and his sons left their homeland and traveled to Egypt.  Eventually, of course, they were enslaved by the native peoples, and the experience of those years of exile, of enslavement and eventual freedom, would fundamentally shape the religious outlook of the children of Israel.  The plight of Jacob and his family as victims of natural disaster is repeated today in the lives of those who are still forced to flee both human-made and natural disasters.  So many who are migrants bring with them to a new land not just hope and dreams, but scars, scars left by natural disasters, famine, floods and earthquakes, and by political persecution, by genocide, and the loss of family members and friends. 

     Jesus, like Jacob, like Ruth and Naomi, like so many others in scripture, was a refugee, a migrant, a victim of political persecution.  Jesus, who shared fully in our humanity, who experienced all the good and the bad of human life, knew what it was to be a stranger.  Think about it, no sooner is Jesus born than he and his family are forced to flee their homeland.  Jesus’ foster father, Joseph, receives word from an angel in a dream that the king is searching for his child in order to kill him.  What a thing to learn!  Being told that your child is in danger creates the most raw, black terror one can possibly imagine.  I think of what Mary and Joseph must have been going through, how they must have asked God, “How can you let this happen?  Why don’t you strike down this cruel tyrant who is killing infants and children?  You’ve put the hope of the whole world in our hands and now you’re telling us we have to protect him from a madman who has spies and armies and secret police and a terrified populace in his grip who might sell out our own child to save theirs.  How can we leave our homes, our families, and our livelihood, and cross the cruel desert with a baby?”  But God simply answers, “Take the child and flee into Egypt.”  Joseph was a carpenter; he and Mary weren’t educated persons, so I’m sure they didn’t speak Egyptian.  What could they take with them on a journey like that but the clothes on their backs?  I think of the scene of the flight into Egypt in Pasolini’s beautiful The Gospel According to St. Matthew (Il vangelo secondo Matteo).  In that film, Jesus and Mary leave their humble dwelling and take to the road, and the last shot is of the hearth, which is still burning.  Without even having a chance to extinguish the fire, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph were literally forced to run for their lives.

     Jesus and his family eventually returned to their homeland, but I’m sure that for Jesus those words of Exodus, “You shall not oppress or molest an alien, for you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt,” always had a special meaning.

    Today, and every day, we can welcome Jesus into our nation, our neighborhoods, and our lives--in the persecuted, the stranger, the migrant and refugee.  Or we can once again turn him away from our door, we can refuse hospitality, by not finding it in our hearts to make room for him at our inn. 

December 12

Preciosa Morenita,

en medio de la ciudad luminoso y el manto del mar;

el azul marinero del fuego es tuyo,

las conchas del invierno, el recodo de la rama,

y una mano suave de la maternidad universal.

Joy

from joy all beings are born; by joy, when born, they live; into joy they enter at death

                                                                                      --Taittiriya Upanishad 3.6
   

Philo-Sophie

Novalis’ Magical Idealism turns Max Demian’s famous phrase, “Wer geboren werden will, muß eine Welt zerstören” (whoever would be born, must destroy a world),* upside down.  Magical idealism calls us to create a world, in order to be born.

Sophie von Kühn—as she has come down to us—is a product of Magical Idealism.   In the poetically inspired, romanticized world of Novalis’ creation, this rather ordinary teenager who liked to play games and eat baked beans and sneak a smoke is transformed, through Magical Idealism, into a celestial being, the only light of the firmament, a heavenly guide.  Like the god who places the hero in the bright nocturnal sky as a burning constellation, Novalis fixes his beloved in the Hymnen an die Nacht, where she will forever be glorified by the children of mortals.  Sophie, like Beatrice, remains for posterity a fixed image: the angelic guardian, the divine messenger—and the prime example of Magical Idealist philosophy in practice.  

* Demian: Die Geschichte von Emil Sinclairs Jugend, Hermann Hesse

Established Now the Kingdom of Eternity

Ja, nichts ist so bemerkenswert, als das große Zugleich in der Natur. Überall scheint die Natur ganz gegenwärtig. In der Flamme eines Lichts sind alle Naturkräfte tätig, und so repräsentiert und verwandelt sie sich überall und unaufhörlich, treibt Blätter, Blüten und Früchte zusammen, und ist mitten in der Zeit gegenwärtig, vergangen und zukünftig zugleich; und wer weiß, in welche eigne Art von Ferne sie ebenfalls wirkt und ob nicht dieses Natursystem nur eine Sonne ist im Universo, die durch Bande an dasselbe geknüpft ist, durch ein Licht und einen Zug und Einflüsse, die zunächst in unserm Geiste sich deutlicher vernehmen lassen, und aus ihm heraus den Geist des Universums über diese Natur ausgießen, und den Geist dieser Natur an andere Natursysteme verteilen.

Yes, nothing is as remarkable as the great sense of simultaneity in nature.  Everywhere, nature seems completely present.  In the flame of a lamp, all natural forces are active, and so they are embodied and transformed everywhere continually--leaves, flowers, and fruit as one, existing in the present, past, and future at the same instant, the whole natural system meanwhile acted upon in a mysterious way by the distant sun, the one sun of the universe, which is linked to all of nature by means of the bonds of light and a train of other influences that can be somehow be communicated, even to our own understanding, spreading forth that spirit which animates everything in the universe, and pouring that spirit on every natural system.

                                                                                                  --Novalis, Die Lehrlinge zu Sais

Sunflowers

A variety of sunflowers are blooming in the garden—great towers of color and light shading one of the apple trees and lantana bushes.  The peaches have ripened and been eaten, and the pomegranates are nearly ripe, and soon the apples with be ready as well (at least the golden varieties).  We are also getting lots of tomatoes and a variety of bell peppers, chilies, and tender, spicy greens.  The days are hot, but the intermittent rains have been good for our garden, and to the community gardening project down at the Sin Fronteras Farmworkers' Center that I am involved with as well.  The mountains are turning green as the desert and its drought evaders return to life and fruitfulness.  

Globe Mallow

The humble, ubiquitous globe mallow (Sphaeralcea sp.) is a favorite of mine when it comes to urban wildcrafting in El Paso.  It grows literally everywhere and can be used like marshmallow or other mallows.  Be careful when harvesting it as the leaves are covered with tiny hairs that can detach and irritate the eyes.  I use only the root medicinally, which when crushed produces a thick mucilaginous poultice that can be applied to wounds, sprains, and even fractures to reduce inflammation, or made into a tea or cold infusion that soothes sore throats, skin burns, and ulcers of the mucus membranes, makes coughs more productive, treats indigestion and urinary tract pain, and acts as a mild laxative.  I've only used the fresh root, but I’m told that it is still useful even after it has been dried.  The beautiful orange-red flowers, incidentally, make a wonderful addition to any herbal tea blend.

Dream

Es ist immer derselbe Traum

Ein rotblühender Kastanienbaum,

Ein Garten voll von Sonnenflor,

Einsam ein altes Haus davor.

Dort wo der stille Garten liegt,

Hat meine Mutter mich gewiegt;

Vielleicht - es ist so lange her -

Steht Garten, Haus und Baum nicht mehr.

Vielleicht geht jetzt ein Wiesenweg

Und Pflug und Egge drüber weg,

Von Heimat, Garten, Haus und Baum

Ist nichts geblieben als mein Traum.

It's always the same dream

A chestnut tree blooming red,

A garden full of sunflowers,

By a lonely old house.

Where the garden is quiet,

My mother cradled me;

Maybe--it's so long ago--

There is no longer garden, house, and tree.

Perhaps now it’s a meadow

With plow and harrow over it,

From home, garden, house, and tree

Nothing is left but my dream.

                --"Traum," Hermann Hesse

A Quick Project

This is a photo of a raised bed for vegetables that I constructed in one night out of 100% recycled wood found in the alleys of our neighborhood (mostly from old box springs that people had thrown out).  I actually collected the wood on foot and dug the dirt I used to fill it that same night. The green landscape cloth lining it is made 100% from recycled plastic water bottles.

Those Who Were His Own Did Not Receive Him

The cruel psychological torture Jesus must have endured in being rejected by “his own.”  Those who should have naturally welcomed him, the righteous, the spiritual, the “do-gooders,” the wise, those who absolutely and sincerely believed they were on the side of decency and justice; they were the very ones who pushed him away.  And further, he had to endure seeing many good people, people who should have been his most faithful companions, go over to the side of those who rejected him without even realizing what they were really doing.  So he befriended those who didn’t count: the losers, the marginal, those who were seen as not amounting to anything.  In the end, they, too, abandoned him, at least temporarily, choosing to stand with the in-group rather than the outsider; Peter, his trusted friend, telling the “popular kids,” the bullies, “I don’t know him.”  Jesus shows supreme love when he dies for all of them, for the very humanity that has discarded him--that has shown itself unworthy of his love.  

     It is that love which we must have for all our brothers and sisters, even in the face of rejection and marginalization, of being cast out and being seen as unworthy, even though we be as lonely and mocked as Jesus by the very people who see themselves as blameless, for it is that love which saves not only us but them as well.

Our Daily Bread

Die Philosophie kann kein Brot backen, aber sie kann uns Gott, Freiheit und Unsterblichkeit verschaffen.

Philosophy can bake no bread, but it may give us God, freedom, and immortality.

                                                            --Novalis

                                                                                                                       

Fortunately, Libby does bake bread for us amateur philosophers.

...participating, humbly, in God's design:

"give us this day our daily bread,"

Jesus asked us to pray

for this work, divine.

The Fruits of the Earth

peaches ripening, and rosemary

Whoso eateth of the fruits of the earth

And rendereth not to the goodness of heaven

The gift of his labour, that man is a thief.

He robs the whole world…

                --Bhagavad Gita, tr. Vinoba Bhave     

tender nopales, and tunas about to bloom

      

young chile pepper plants glistening in the morning sun

cactus flowers and bees

May 5 (International Day of the Midwife)

In the garden: two American Painted Lady butterflies in a fragile mating dance.  The pomegranates are blooming, and tiny apples and peaches hang from the trees, set to slowly ripen in the days ahead.  Mint and California poppies and rosemary and catnip everywhere.  Lantanas and scabiosas draw the butterflies, who lay their eggs on the lilac (Tiger Swallowtails), orange trees and rue (Giant Swallowtails) and parsley (Black Swallowtails).  Soon the chaste-berry trees and tiny spearmint flowers will also draw the Sleepy Yellows and Western Pygmy-Blues, and the wonderful Western Tailed Blues with their clever, antenna-like decoy tails.  In the garden: fertility and life and beauty.

Happy International Day of the Midwife to my midwife friends everywhere!  May we honor you on this day and always.

The New Jerusalem

The wonderful view from Alexander Heights looking west.  The words, “You are the light of the world.  A city built on a hilltop cannot be hidden,” (Mt. 5:14) naturally come to me as I gaze on this place (Barrio Rio Grande and Sunset Heights), this view that contains so much of my own personal history, and family history as well.

This is another short stop on journey to the East, “die Heimat und Jugend der Seele” (the home and youth of the soul), the fair, shining streets like those of the New Jerusalem.

Spring

Spring has arrived.  It was a little uncertain at first, as the cold days occasionally returned, but it is truly here, and truly a welcome spring.

Flowering almond

Pomegranates, apple blossoms, mugwort

Beim Erwachen begann er fröhlich sein Tagwerk, erbaute sich eine bequeme Einsiedlerhütte, grub seinen Garten, und pflanzte Rosen und Lilien, auch andere Wohlgeruch düftende Blumen und Kräuter, nicht minder Kohl und Küchengewächse nebst fruchtbringenden Obstbäumen hinein. Die Elfe unterließ nie jeden Abend im Zwielichten ihm einen Besuch zu machen, erfreute sich über den Gewinn seines Fleißes, lustwandelte mit ihm Hand in Hand am schilfreichen Gestade des Weihers auf und ab, und der bewegliche Schilf flötete dem traulichen Paare einen melodischen Abendgruß zu, wenn es die Luft durchsäuselte. Sie unterwies ihren horchsamen Lehrjünger in den Geheimnissen der Natur, unterrichtete ihn von dem Ursprung und dem Wesen der Dinge, lehrte ihn die natürlichen magischen Eigenschaften und Wirkungen derselben, und bildete den rohen Kriegsmann zu einem Denker und Weltweisen um. 
                                    

Upon awakening, he began his work cheerfully, and built himself a comfortable hermitage, dug a garden, planted roses, lilies and other fragrant flowers, herbs and kitchen vegetables along with fruitful orchards. The elf never failed to visit every evening at twilight, enjoying the profits of his industry and strolling with him hand in hand on the reedy banks of the pond, as the moving reeds whispered a melodious evening greeting to the intimate couple when the breeze passed through them. She taught her disciple universal teachings in the mysteries of nature, informing him of the origin and the character of things, instructing him about natural magical properties and their effects, and in doing so, formed the raw soldier into a thinker and philosopher.

                                                                     --Johann Karl August Musäeus, "Libussa"

Rue in flower with bee balm shoots in the foreground

The Palisades Canyon Loop

Libby and I took the dogs up the trails of the Palisades Canyon Loop (Crazy Cat Canyon) in the Franklin Mountains today.  The trailhead is only a couple of miles from our house.  The desert is very dry, but the lechuguillas and yuccas and creosote are all clinging to life amid the harshness.  Occasionally, the light green of a mesquite with newly-sprung leaves brightens the landscape.  The Franklin Mountains are all about geology, though.  The twisted formations of Lower Ordovician El Paso Group Limestone are mixed with the Upper Ordovician Montoya Group Dolomite and the Silurian Fusselman Dolomite.  There is a spot where the bright yellows and reds of the fossil-rich (trilobites, cystoids, brachiopods, nautiloids, sponges, etc.) Lower Ordovician Florida Mts. Formation meets the Silurian light grey-white-to-almost-pink Fusselman Dolomite in a sharply-defined discontinuity.  Amid the jagged limestone and dolomite cliffs and the stark, spectacular canyons lie the humble beauties of a bright Texas rainbow cactus or an occasional wildflower.

Chert lenses in the El Paso Limestone

Lechuguillas clinging to life

Yucca, acacia (not yet in leaf), lechuguillas, and Texas rainbow cactus

Fusselman Dolomite

Prickly pear cactus and calcite