"Today, and everyday, is a mixed bag." This reminds me of how jarring, and perhaps enlightening, the liturgical calendar is around Advent-Christmas when the heavens align with the spiritual themes. We go from the darkest day of the year, December 21, being the feast of that Apostle, Thomas, who descended into darkest doubt so that the great light of the Gospel could shine even brighter ("for the more confirmation of the faith", as the old Prayer Book says), to the brightness of Christmas Day when the light out of darkness is , imperceptibly, increasing in warm hope (albeit with St. Anastasia's confession in the background). Then, lest we forget the mixed bag, we are immediately slapped with Stephen's martyrdom on Boxing Day, followed by the warmth of the "bright beams of light" for St. John (to quote the old Prayer Book again), and followed yet again by infant male genocide on Holy Innocents (revealing the glory of the 144,000 in Rev 14). A mixed bag indeed.
"Today, and everyday, is a mixed bag." This reminds me of how jarring, and perhaps enlightening, the liturgical calendar is around Advent-Christmas when the heavens align with the spiritual themes. We go from the darkest day of the year, December 21, being the feast of that Apostle, Thomas, who descended into darkest doubt so that the great light of the Gospel could shine even brighter ("for the more confirmation of the faith", as the old Prayer Book says), to the brightness of Christmas Day when the light out of darkness is , imperceptibly, increasing in warm hope (albeit with St. Anastasia's confession in the background). Then, lest we forget the mixed bag, we are immediately slapped with Stephen's martyrdom on Boxing Day, followed by the warmth of the "bright beams of light" for St. John (to quote the old Prayer Book again), and followed yet again by infant male genocide on Holy Innocents (revealing the glory of the 144,000 in Rev 14). A mixed bag indeed.