Category Archives: quotes

Christmas in the Trenches

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Maria Horvath (blog now inactive) posted this song, scripture and video together many years ago:

We begin this month’s look at the different forms of love with one of the most thought-provoking statements ever made about love.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Christ tells his followers, “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and send rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you salute only your brethren, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” ~ Matthew 5:43-48

The lyrics below tell the true story of a truce between British and German soldiers on the Western Front in 1914. It is told from the perspective of a fictional British soldier.

CHRISTMAS IN THE TRENCHES

Oh, my name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool,
Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school.
From Belgium and to Flanders, Germany to here,
I have fought for King and country I love dear.

’Twas Christmas in the trenches and the frost so bitter hung,
The frozen fields of France where still no songs of peace were sung.
Our families back in England were toasting us that day
Their brave and glorious lads so far away.

I was lying with me mess mates on the cold and rocky ground
When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound.
Says I, Now listen up me boys, each soldier strained to hear
As one young German voice sang out so clear.

He’s singing bloody well, you know, my partner says to me.
Soon one by one each German voice joined in in harmony.
The cannons rested silent and the gas cloud rolled no more,
As Christmas brought us respite from the war.

As soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent,
“God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” struck up some lads from Kent.
The next they sang was “Stille Nacht.” ’Tis “Silent Night,” says I,
And in two tongues one song filled up that sky.

There’s someone coming towards us now, the front line sentry cried.
All sights were fixed on one lone figure trudging from their side.
His truce flag like a Christmas Star shone on the plain so bright
As he bravely trudged unarmed into the night.

Then one by one on either side walked in to No Man’s Land
But neither gun nor bayonet, we met there hand to hand.
We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well,
And in a flare-lit football game we gave ’em hell.

We traded chocolates and cigarettes and photographs from home,
These sons and fathers far away from families of their own.
Tom Sanders played the squeeze box and they had a violin,
This curious and unlikely band of men.

Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more.
With sad farewells we each began to settle back to war.
But the question haunted every heart that lived that wondrous night,
Whose family have I fixed within my sights?

’Twas Christmas in the trenches and the frost so bitter hung.
The frozen fields of France were warmed, the songs of peace were sung.
For the walls they’d kept between us to exact the work of war
Had been crumbled and were gone forever more.

Oh, my name is Francis Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell.
Each Christmas come since World War I, I’ve learned its lessons well,
For the one who calls the shots won’t be among the dead and lame,
And on each end of the rifle we’re the same.

~ John McCutcheon, born 1952, American singer, musician, and composer

This is how the Word becomes incarnate.

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THE NATIVITY OF CHRIST ~ A MEDITATION

…The greatest mystery of the Incarnation is that, having happened once in history, it recurs  in every person that comes to Christ. In the deep silence of the night the Word of God became incarnate on earth: this is how the Word becomes incarnate in the silent depths of our soul, where our mind lapses into silence, where words run out, where our spirit stands before God.

Christ was born on earth unknown and unrecognized, for only the Magi and the shepherds went out to meet him. In the same way, quietly and unrecognizably to others, Christ is born in a human soul, and it comes out to meet him, because a star has been born in it, leading to the light.

We mysteriously recognize Christ in us during prayer, when we discover that our prayer has been accepted and heard, that God ‘came and abode in us’ and filled us with his life-bearing presence. We encounter Christ in the Eucharist, when, having received his body and blood, we feel that our own body is penetrated by his divine energy, and the blood of God runs though our veins.

We encounter Christ in other sacraments of the Church, when through union with him we are renewed and revived unto eternal life. We encounter Christ in our neighbors, when we gain sight of his innermost depth where the image of God shines. We encounter Christ in our everyday life, when amidst its noise we hear his beckoning voice or when we see his manifest intrusion into the course of history.

Precisely so — unexpectedly and suddenly — God intruded into the life of humanity twenty centuries ago, when by his birth he turned the course of history. Precisely so is he born again and again in the souls of thousands of people, changing, transforming and transfiguring their lives, making believers out of non-believers, saints out of sinners, saved out of dying.

When, around two thousand years ago, the Divine Infant was born, the angels sang: ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men’ (Lk 2:14). In our days the world yearns for peace and good will. In the very place where Christ was born there is war, and Bethlehem itself is under siege. The Christian Church prays for peace in the Holy Land and in other countries for the forces of good to triumph over the forces of evil. May the Divine Child born in Bethlehem grant peace to the entire world, and good will to all its people.

—Metropolitan Hilarion (Alfeyev) of Volokalamsk

 

Shame and the modern identity.

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Father Stephen Freeman by his writing has been helping us for a long time, to understand how shame motivates our behavior, both good and bad. There is both healthy shame, which we are “hardwired” with, and toxic shame, which often has unhealthy ramifications down through the generations.

One particular article, “Shame and the Modern Identity,” I’ve wanted to share a link to for some time. In it Fr. Stephen explains how it happens that we start with a necessary form of shame and end up with the painful and crippling emotion of shame.

“We could say that toxic shame, or damaging shame, is the abuse of something that is essential and necessary. That is a useful understanding, and points to just how tricky the acquisition and formation of identity is. It is a razor’s edge and pretty much no one survives the years of its acquisition without a legacy of unwanted shame. The years following that acquisition can often be occupied with the patient work of cleaning up the unwanted bits that shadow our existence. Adults gradually gain a sense of their identity, but very few feel entirely secure about it. ‘Who am I’ can be a haunting question, for example, for someone going through a divorce or a loss of employment. When the props that we have gathered in the establishment of an identity are removed, it’s easy to fall apart.”

If you read the article linked above and still want more, you are in luck. Just last spring Fr. Stephen’s book came out: Face to Face: Knowing God beyond Our Shame. It is good to have much of his wisdom on the subject gathered in one place. Even those of us who aren’t plagued with these emotions ourselves likely know someone who is, and could possibly benefit from more understanding for their sake.

Poetry’s argument with doubt.

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“Doubt is more intelligent than poetry, insofar as it tells malicious tales about the world, things we’ve long known but struggled to hide from ourselves. But poetry surpasses doubt, pointing to what we cannot know. Doubt is narcissistic; we look at everything critically, including ourselves, and perhaps that comforts us. Poetry, on the other hand, trusts the world, and rips us from the deep-sea diving suits of our ‘I’; it believes in the possibility of beauty and its tragedy.

“Poetry’s argument with doubt has nothing in common with the facile quarrel of optimism and pessimism. The twentieth century’s great drama means that we now deal with two kinds of intellect: the resigned and the seeking, the questing. Doubt is poetry for the resigned. Whereas poetry is searching, endless wandering. Doubt is a tunnel, poetry is a spiral. Doubt prefers to shut, while poetry opens. Poetry laughs and cries, doubt ironizes. Doubt is death’s plenipotentiary, its longest and wittiest shadow; poetry runs toward an unknown goal. Why does one choose poetry while another chooses doubt? We don’t know and we’ll never find out. We don’t know why one is Cioran and the other is Milosz.”

-Adam Zagajewski, 1945-2021
A Defense of Ardor: Essays

Krakow 2011 –  Adam Zagajewski