Come On Down. We Dare You! (Free Golf On the Blue Monster For The Troops)
I still laugh about Blanca’s introduction to an “American” Roman Catholic version of one of Christianity’s oldest prayers – dating at least to the early third century and Hippolytus’s Apostolic Tradition.
Blanca was a “member of the family.”
With parents (and their parents, their siblings and everyone they knew) from Philadelphia, as kids we “adopted” aunts and uncles.
Because she was working in a South Miami “beauty salon” (That’s what they were called so many, many years ago.) and “the kids” were grown up when “Mrs. Flynn” started going there, Blanca never fell into the “aunt” category. Yet for more than fifty years, beginning in that South Miami salon and then for decades and decades in the only-in-Miami Cuban-style salon in her garage, she always addressed our parents as “Mrs. Flynn” and “Mr. Flynn.”
That didn’t change her role as “part of the family.” Over years, she prepared our mother for (and attended) birthdays, social events, weddings, and an ordination. (If Mrs. Flynn was gonna be getting dressed-up for something, Blanca was part of the process and wanted a full report after it.)
Early refugees from Castro’s Cuba, Blanca and her parents arrived in the United States just as she was beginning kindergarten or first grade.
There she encountered a (then) terrifying dynamic of American Roman Catholic prayer: The Sign of the Cross.
“In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.”
Years later (and in perfect English with her Miami-Cuban accent), she described her terror of GHOSTS!
So true, ya gotta luv it!
Blanca loved – genuinely loved – her “Christmas crib” with the Holy Family, a myriad of shepherds, sheep, camels, los Tres Reyes Magos (Three Wise Men) and paper mâché mountains.
On January 6, Christians worldwide will celebrate the “Feast of the Foreigners Who Saved the Life of Jesus So That He Could Preach ‘Blessed Are the Peacemakers… What You Did For One of the Least of My Brothers and Sisters You Did It For Me,’ Experience Crucifixion and Gift Us With the Resurrection.” That’s one heck of a title for a religious feast. It should also be known as the” Feast of the Heroic Foreigners” or the “Feast of the Courageous Strangers.”
Yup! That’s the feast.
If you believe the ole bumper sticker “Jesus Is the Reason for the Season” (We’re addressing you, Knights of Columbus.) and believe that someone – by fiat – brought back “Merry Christmas,” then you must believe that, except for those “foreigners” – dark skinned or Asian, perhaps the ancestors of Minnesota’s Somalis or today’s Haitian and Afghan immigrants to the U.S., Jesus would have been killed in his infancy and St. Paul could never have written: “If Christ has not been raised, then your faith is useless...” (1 Corinthians 15:17)
While America’s christian nationalists and (too many) politicians deny or overlook Matthew 25:31-46 and the Beatitudes, without the courage of foreigners who defied the orders of King Herod and without His parents rushing Him into exile in Egypt to avoid the tyrant’s inhumane plans, none of us would be “Christian” – nationalists or otherwise. Were he not an emigrant/immigrant – from Bethlehem to Egypt to Nazareth – Pilate’s sign over the head of the crucified Jesus might simply have read IRI. (John 19:19)
History tells us St. Francis of Assisi emphasized three devotions: The Cross, the ciborium (in which hosts consecrated at Mass are kept for distribution) and The Crib. On Christmas Eve 1223, while visiting the Italian village of Greccio, he staged the first “nativity scene” in a cave near the town’s square.
Francis received special permission from Pope Honorius III to hold Midnight Mass at the cave. “I want to do something that will recall the memory of that child who was born in Bethlehem, to see with bodily eyes the inconveniences of his infancy, how he lay in the manger, and how the ox and ass stood by,” he reportedly said.
Folks (especially Franciscans) remain divided on whether Joseph and Mary were represented by living members of the community or images or were even present in the cave. It is certain Francis gathered a living cast – a donkey (“ass”) and an ox. The Infant was a statue.
Francis, a deacon, proclaimed the Gospel account of the Nativity of the Lord (Luke 2:1-20), then preached about the humility and poverty of Jesus. (He was never ordained a priest because he did not feel worthy of celebrating the Eucharist – Mass.) The power of his words, coupled with the enduring image of the living nativity scene, so moved the community that the idea of staging live nativities spread throughout Italy.
Over time, my “manger scene” has grown. Figurines from not one but two sets – one gifted, one inherited - of “Avon Lady” nativities join those from a sixty-plus year-old Hummel set that graced the Florida room of my parent’s home. An ox and donkey “enter” the cave first, inviting the Virgin and St. Joseph (bearing a lantern). The Child is placed in the manger. Shepherds, village people and children find their places on the closest shelves. Because they arrived later, the “Magi from the East” go on higher and lower shelves. Angels – with trumpets, a violin, candles and lanterns – populate the uppermost shelves and, from either side, statues of St. Francis smile contentedly.
Like Blanca, I celebrate my “Christmas crib.” It’s tradition, even in the order in which each figure is placed. It ties me to generations and people past.
Miami – Greater Miami – is home to a seemingly endless array of Christmas celebrations: Cuban Noche Buena (Christmas Eve) with the daylong preparation of the lechon (a whole roasted pig), black beans and rice, plantains, flan (a rich custard, best and traditionally prepared in treasured old Maxwell House coffee cans), and lots of music; Haitian Minuit Chretie (Creole Mass at Our Lady of Haiti or the Cathedral), fanals (paper lanterns) and soup jourmou (pumpkin soup); Venezuelan Gaita folk music, aguinaldos (carols), dancing to salsa/meringue, pernil (roasted pork legs), and hallacas (a quintessential dish of mixed meats, olives and raisins in corn dough, wrapped in plantain leaves and boiled; and Nicaraguan gallo pinto (rice and beans), pavo Navideno (seasoned “Christmas turkey” or chicken served with a savory blend of vegetables), tres leches (a moist cake soaked in three kinds of milk) and rosquillas (corn cookies).
And those are just a smattering of our cultures and traditions.
New Years Eve celebrations will begin with early evening concerts at the Bayfront Park Bandshell and on South Beach; boats will crowd Biscayne Bay with folks mesmerized by fireworks from both sides of the Bay and along Miami Beach. The Big Orange, complete with sunglasses, will drop in the seconds before midnight and (hopefully) the whole town will wake early the next morning for the Orange Bowl College Football Playoff Quarterfinal at noon.
No American city or town celebrates the Feast of the Epiphany of the Lord like Miami and la Pequena Havana/Calle Ocho (Little Havana and SW Eighth Street – the main drag of Little Havana). While church calendars mark the arrival of the “wise men from the East” on January 6, Miami’s manana spirit moves it to the following Sunday.
By the time the first marching bands and floats beginning moving on Calle Ocho (the name known even to folks who don’t speak Spanish), the crowds will be packed six to eight deep along the ten-blocks-long parade route. The arrival of the (real) camels and costumed king completes an only-in-Miami celebration. Except, that’s not all…
South Florida cities and towns large and small will observe Martin Luther King Day on Monday, January 19 with more parades and speeches memorializing a man who dared to dream of a greater America, and family cookouts.
Only in Miami…
We are the glorious home of a seemingly infinite number of immigrant cultures and languages. We are a community, a people who celebrate and take pride in Heisman Trophy Winner Fernando Mendoza, who so eloquently expressed his gratitude to his parents and brothers in English and his grandparents in Spanish and closed his acceptance speech encouraging others:
"This is an important one, I want every kid out there who feels overlooked and underestimated, I was you. I was that kid too, I was in your shoes. The truth is, you don't need the most stars, hype or rankings, you just need discipline, heart and people who believe in you and your own abilities. I hope this moment shows you that chasing your dreams are worth it no matter how big or impossible they seem.”
[EDITORS’ NOTE: As much as we might want to send the following letter to members of presidential administration, we won’t. Thinking about sending it or being tempted to send it or enjoying the idea of sending it is not a sin. If you wish/want/desire/need to send it, feel free.]
MR. TRUMP, KRIST NOEM, TOM HORMAN, ET AL:
Between mid-December and late January our weather is the envy of the nation. It would be a great time to send ICE and Homeland (in)Security and National Guard forces to Miami, Little Havana and Little Haiti. Don’t forget Doral (locally known as “Doralzuela,”) where they can sleep, shower and get great meals at the Trump National golf resort. We’re sure the president, moved by the holiday spirt and profound gratitude, will pick up the tabs at the restaurants of his Doral resort and he’d be honored to allow the troops to enjoy an unlimited number of complimentary rounds on his famous Blue Monster course. Just small perks to the troops for being away from their real jobs and their families.
Christmas, New Years, Three Kings Day, MLK Day!
A great season for rounding up, tackling and arresting Brown and Black men, women and children because they are speaking Spanish or Creole – just in case they might be in the United States as refugees from the dictatorships of Cuba, Venezuela and Nicaragua or look “suspicious,” even though you can’t tell us what “suspicious” looks like.
So, put on your costumes (We’re writing to you, Kristi and Kash.) and “come on down.” (That’s an old slogan from the Miami and Miami Beach Chambers of Commerce.) Bring your flak jackets and pose for the cameras while you bloviate about the immigrants who have made our home the great place it is.
Arrest our abuelas and abuelos, tios and tias, our primos and primas.
Come on down. We dare you!
And watch us vote against you for generations to come. Turn Florida blue!
The incredible cornucopia of cultures and people that is Miami is warm and welcoming.
But we’ve got a very, very long memory.
Show us your courage on the streets of South Florida.
We dare you!
THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION TO THIS MATTER.