Sometimes the Center Means following the Stream

 Following the stream to its source, or to its destination.

I've always been in love with rivers. In Fifth Grade we studied U.S. geography, and I spent hours pouring over the physical map of the country, following rivers. If I had a canoe, I thought, could I cross the country with just that? Well, it would take some uphill paddling, but turns out you could make it if you started with the Mississippi, turned onto the Missouri, and then up the Platte to one of its sources high in the Rockies. Well, you get the picture. 

What about going downstream? I think of the children's' story "Scuffy the Tugboat," where the little boat starts in a bathtub, but finds his way into a stream and then a river, and finally ends up in the sea.

Either way, you come to know this river that you know otherwise just by crossing the bridge to the other side.  And this is also a way to understand something well, to avoid an extremist view (view from the end of a limb--but that's a different metaphor.)

This isn't just about political centrism.  It has to do with all aspects of life, where we do well to situate ourselves in a spot where we know what's going on and why.

Using the Example of the Jewish Fall Feasts and their relation to Christianity.

My current example has to do with the Jewish observance of Yom Kippur, which has fascinated me for many years. This is a feast first mentioned in the Book of Numbers in the Hebrew Scriptures, where Moses calls for a day of fasting and mortification on the 10th day of the 7th month--ten days after the celebration of the new year on the first day, which is now known as Rosh Hashanah.

I've wondered what happened to Yom Kippur in the strain of Judaism known as Christianity. Clearly, the early Christians did observe Jewish feasts, so why not this one.  I pictured this as a stream that suddenly disappears into the earth, although it has not gone away in Jewish observance, so it's a bit unfair to suggest that it has disappeared. Only in Christian tradition has this taken place.

It took some digging, but it turns out this stream actually continued in Christian practice, being known as the autumn fast. Even Paul refers to this--or Luke, actually, in his account of the turbulent voyage on the way to Rome. Later, Pope Leo the Great claims it to be from ancient times. In my childhood this tradition continued as the fall Ember Days. 

For those nostalgic for the glorious past, when the old liturgy reigned and Ember Days stood proud on the calendar four times a year--in Advent, Lent,  before Pentecost and in the fall, I will assure you that these were not exactly a great addition to our liturgical year. They were there, on the calendar, and we were required to abstain on a Wednesday along with the Friday--or maybe it was just fasting on the Wednesday and Saturday, along with Friday of those weeks. No one made much of an ado about it. In fact, the word "liturgy" was not used in ordinary circles, and you just went to mass. You knew the season changed when the vestments changed color, but that was about it. Worship was much more a question of whether you managed to be present during the three main parts of the mass, which meant you could squeak in by the offertory and leave after communion.  

However, what did start happening during those years was a renewal of the liturgy. Ember Days did not figure in, but a renewed emphasis on the three days of Triduum and the original liturgies of those sacred days was reintroduced. No Ember Days at Pentecost either, but in more recent years, a renewed Vigil of Pentecost. There were new, more authentic and meaningful liturgies of baptism, confirmation, reconciliation, the anointing of the sick, and of Christian funerals and weddings. 

It's as if the stream that had continued from the Jewish tradition had been amplified by new tributaries, giving new life to liturgy.

Now this does not mean that the current of the Ember Days needs to be left out. I am excited at the idea of reincorporating the fall fast and thanksgiving into our year, since it fits so well with the way our lives move into this new season. We have no Church observance to help us with this, even if we do add autumn colors to our environment and begin our new year of Christian education. It has all kinds of possibilities. A fast could mark the beginning of this new season, and thanksgiving, a fitting way to enter fall. 

Ember Days as an outlet for the stream begun in Numbers and continued with Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur gives and example of how exploring the course of something from its source to its endings can expand our understanding of everything in-between. Discovering the endings can help us understand the center.