“Who do you say I am?”
Jesus asked.
Who do you say I am?
The jars lined the walls.
Each one marked:
A weight and words,
“Products of conception.”
Parts, just parts!
Parts, just parts?
Who do you say I am?
©2012 Joann Nelander
“Who do you say I am?”
Jesus asked.
Who do you say I am?
The jars lined the walls.
Each one marked:
A weight and words,
“Products of conception.”
Parts, just parts!
Parts, just parts?
Who do you say I am?
©2012 Joann Nelander
Stolen name replaced by number,
Savaged soul and broken heart.
Hell, a people to encumber.Blind eyes outside in darkness.
Dead souls dismissed the human face.
Stolen name replaced by numberRising from the ashes,
Pledging nevermore.
Hell, a people to encumberYad VaShem, the vault of memory,
Yad VaShem, the ground of tears
Stolen name replaced by numberShoah: families, children.
Here named, remembered, mourned
Hell, a people to encumberFaces pictured in the silence.
Tears cried forevermore.
Stolen name replaced by number
Hell, a people to encumberCopyright Joann Nelander
(experimental Villanelle)
As the New Year begins, the Church reminds us of the importance of a name. We celebrate the Octave Day of Christmas, the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God, and on the Monday after the Epiphany we celebrate the Most Holy Name of Jesus.
Octave means eight. The Gospel for the day relates:
“When eight days were completed for his circumcision, he was named Jesus, the name given Him by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.”
On this eighth day the infant was circumcised and a name given. The name was so important that it was announced by an angel. So important was the Name to God!
The Old Testament reading from Numbers for this day speaks of another Name:
“The Lord look upon you kindly and give you peace! So shall they invoke My Name upon the Israelites, and I will bless them.”
What’s in a name? Mystery! Holy Mystery!
As we begin our year, and as the liturgical year unfolds, celebrating the History of Salvation, let us remember the inhumane of Human History as well. Herod’s holocaust sought to wipe away all hope for humanity, the plan of the Evil One. that might makes right as the world has come to believe.
Yad Vashem, written sometimes as, Yad VaShem, literally “hand and name” means “memorial.”
In the Hall of Names, the victims of the Holocaust of our time are remembered.
“Remember only that I was innocent
and, just like you, mortal on that day,
I, too, had had a face marked by rage, by pity and joy,
quite simply, a human face!”
Benjamin Fondane
Murdered at Auschwitz, 1944
“If we wish to live and to bequeath life to our offspring, if we believe that we are to pave the way to the future, then we must first of all not forget.”
(Prof. Ben Zion Dinur, Yad Vashem, 1956)
Update-Yad Vashem – What’s in a Name
I was reminded of a piece I wrote, God Remembers Their Names on the occasion of Pope Benedict XVI speaking at Yad Vashem Holocaust Museum and then I came upon this : A Hand and a Name by Renee Ghert-Zand.
“How ironic it is that celebrities, who live increasingly public lives, would metaphorically die to have their names and handprints immortalized in concrete, while the victims of the Holocaust would have done anything to have been able to live out their natural lives in obscurity, their names never appearing on one of countless Nazi extermination lists recovered and now housed forever at Yad VaShem.”

Fr.Celsus repeatedly and passionately asked, “Who are you in the story?”
He said that if you are church and this is your story, you must be in it. Who are you? Are you Pilate, who knows the truth and yet rejects it out of fear to chose and serve the world? Are you the good thief on the cross, condemned for sins you really did commit? Are you John, the Beloved Disciple, standing with Mary, the Mother of Jesus? Who are you in the story?
From a homily by Saint Gregory Nazianzen,
We are soon going to share in the Passover
We are soon going to share in the Passover, and although we still do so only in a symbolic way, the symbolism already has more clarity than it possessed in former times because, under the law, the Passover was, if I may dare to say so, only a symbol of a symbol. Before long, however, when the Word drinks the new wine with us in the kingdom of his Father, we shall be keeping the Passover in a yet more perfect way, and with deeper understanding. He will then reveal to us and make clear what he has so far only partially disclosed. For this wine, so familiar to us now, is eternally new.
It is for us to learn what this drinking is, and for him to teach us. He has to communicate this knowledge to his disciples, because teaching is food, even for the teacher.
So let us take our part in the Passover prescribed by the law, not in a literal way, but according to the teaching of the Gospel; not in an imperfect way, but perfectly; not only for a time, but eternally. Let us regard as our home the heavenly Jerusalem, not the earthly one; the city glorified by angels, not the one laid waste by armies. We are not required to sacrifice young bulls or rams, beasts with horns and hoofs that are more dead than alive and devoid of feeling; but instead, let us join the choirs of angels in offering God upon his heavenly altar a sacrifice of praise. We must now pass through the first veil and approach the second, turning our eyes toward the Holy of Holies. I will say more: we must sacrifice ourselves to God, each day and in everything we do, accepting all that happens to us for the sake of the Word, imitating his passion by our sufferings, and honoring his blood by shedding our own. We must be ready to be crucified.
If you are a Simon of Cyrene, take up your cross and follow Christ. If you are crucified beside him like one of the thieves, now, like the good thief, acknowledge your God. For your sake, and because of your sin, Christ himself was regarded as a sinner; for his sake, therefore, you must cease to sin. Worship him who was hung on the cross because of you, even if you are hanging there yourself. Derive some benefit from the very shame; purchase salvation with your death. Enter paradise with Jesus, and discover how far you have fallen. Contemplate the glories there, and leave the other scoffing thief to die outside in his blasphemy.
If you are a Joseph of Arimathea, go to the one who ordered his crucifixion, and ask for Christs body. Make your own the expiation for the sins of the whole world. If you are a Nicodemus, like the man who worshipped God by night, bring spices and prepare Christs body for burial. If you are one of the Marys, or Salome, or Joanna, weep in the early morning. Be the first to see the stone rolled back, and even the angels perhaps, and Jesus himself.
Cribbed from the bulletin of St. Thomas Aquinas Catholic Church, Rio Rancho, NM (author unknown)
A nurse on the pediatric ward, before listening to the little ones’ chests, would plug the stethoscope into their ears and let them listen to their own hearts. Their eyes would always light up with awe, but she never got a response equal to four-year old David’s comment.
Gently she tucked the stethoscope into his ears and placed the disk oner his heart. “Listen,” she said……”What do you suppose that is?” she said He drew his eyebrows together in a puzzled line and looked up as if lost in the mystery of the strange tap -tap- tapping deep in his chest.
Then his face broke out in a wondrous grin and he asked, “Is that Jesus knocking?”
An Army of Marias is how Glenn Reynolds of pajamasmedia describes the watch groups forming in response to widespread looting in Conception, Chile in the wake of the horrendous earthquake. Reynolds writes:
This is why Americans have guns. And why getting to know your neighbors is an important part of disaster preparation.
Here’s a hell of an aside (H/T Glenn Reynolds): To Keep and Bear Arms by Doctor Zero. It starts off:
Twenty-five years ago, a little after sunrise on a Monday morning, the front door of my house was kicked in by a man who had blown his mind with crack cocaine. He marched my family upstairs at gunpoint. When I reached the top of the stairs and turned around, he put the gun in my forehead and pulled the trigger. Read the rest here.
“My adventures in the Pittsburgh International Airport during the worst snow storm of the century. After arriving late for a flight at 7:40 PM to LGA I decided to stick around my gate until my flight at 5:40 and had a BLAST!
I was on my way to New York City to attend an audition for the national tour of the wizard of oz (coming to pitt in April) when I missed my flight by 15 minutes due to the weather. I knew the only way to make it to the audition was if I spent the night and took the 5:40 AM flight the next morning. They told me to sleep in the kids area. I eventually made the US airways flight (although it was an hour late) and did well at the audition. I danced than had a callback to sing.
“