Minute Meditation – Follow the Star

I love going out in the yard in the winter to look at the stars. The clear, cold air makes them seem brighter. Different stars are visible in the winter than at other times of the year. As the constellations wheel overhead, there’s a sense of vast possibility in the universe, but also a sense of permanence. The sun, the moon, the stars, and our own earth travel through time and space but there’s nothing random about those movements. Each has an orbit, an appointed path to travel. Our lives, too, have an appointed path. We move through the seasons of the year, and the seasons of a lifetime. Sometimes it seems as though the only constant is constant change. But the eternal feasts of the Christmas season remind us that the eternal keeps our feet grounded on the earth and our eyes fixed on God’s star, the plan God has for each of our lives.

—from the book The Peace of Christmas: Quiet Reflections with Pope Francis
by Diane M. Houdek

//Franciscan Media//


Minute Meditation – We Are Only Given This Day

What if we could place a meal on the table differently and then hear, finally, the simple things—laughter, rain, and the smell of the sea? What if the dark is spilling the impossible blue on each one who passes by, breaking our hearts open until we see that everything gleams with light—until we are no longer able to “pass by like a dream?” A single sentence, a single word keeps turning life over. We are only given this day.

— from the book Stars at Night: When Darkness Unfolds as Night
by Paula D’Arcy

//Franciscan Media//


Minute Meditation – Creator of the Stars of Night

One of my favorite Advent hymns gives this reflection its title. There’s something wonderful about including the cosmos in our Christmas celebrations. I grew up with fresh-cut Christmas trees, usually a short-needled double balsam. It would appear on the enclosed front porch one day, lying on the swing in the cold Wisconsin air for a week or so before it came in the house. There was always something magical about bringing this little piece of the forest in the house. The artificial trees that have become more practical in my adult life never quite match that splendor. Christmas can become a celebration of artifice and manufactured wonders. From the dangling icicle lights along the roofline to the inflatable cartoon characters on suburban lawns, we run the risk of treating this holiday as a time of one-upping not only the neighbors but also God. But we know deep down that no factory in China can produce something as wonderful as the tiniest miracle in God’s creation. 

Each year, the pope blesses a Christmas tree and crèche in St. Peter’s Square at the Vatican. There’s a protocol in the ceremony that recognizes with gratitude the origin of the tree and the people whose gift it is. It serves as a reminder of the many connections among us, but also the connection with nature that has been a part of the human race from the beginning of creation. Redemption is about more than a perfection of human behavior. Scripture tells us that all creation is redeemed in the coming of the Christ. It’s good to remind ourselves of that as we decorate our homes and yards for the season. 

As you plan your holiday decorations, find a way to incorporate something natural in the mix. It might be a real pine or boxwood wreath on the door, a freshly cut Christmas tree, a Christmas cactus, a dish of paperwhite narcissi, or a showy amaryllis bulb. Not only do these remind us of God’s natural world, in many cases we can watch the miracle of life as they grow and bloom throughout the season.

—from the book The Peace of Christmas: Quiet Reflections from Pope Francis
by Diane M. Houdek


Minute Meditation – Stars in the Night Sky

In this world darkened by despair and deep division, we fumble dimly, to see past self-interest, fears, and endless feuding. But even looking down we can see beyond, like the pilgrim seeking clarity who found a limpid pool, and bending down glimpsed the Milky Way mirrored in the deep. Then gazing heavenward, gaped and gasped at the cosmic show above, while awe-filled silence taught: the stiller you become, the clearer will your reflection be.

—from the book Wandering and Welcome: Meditations for Finding Peace by Joseph Grant


Minute Meditation – Clear, Precious, and Beautiful

Francis wrote his immortal Canticle of the Creatures while in Clare’s care at San Damiano. The incredible power and poetry of this song has long fascinated all who read, study, or sing it. One word in that poem, written in Umbrian dialect, and written during a time of daily nursing by Clare, catches the eye. It is the word clarite. “Praised be you, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars, in heaven you formed them clear and precious and beautiful” (Canticle, 5). This is the adjective for the stars. They are “clarite et pretiose et belle,”—clear, precious, beautiful. In the long dark time of his illness, was it Clare who was this “pretiose, belle, clarite” companion whose light helped him endure encroaching blindness and searing pain? She had been—and would remain—the North Star for all who wanted to follow his way.

— from the book Light of Assisi: The Story of Saint Clare

by Margaret Carney, OSF

//Franciscan Media//