Marketplace Monastics

One of you, one of us, I should say, has long commemorated the Twelve Days of Christmas. Today we’re going to commemorate her commemoration.

I’ve always rather … not liked … that song too well. My favorite rendition was the one my grown children performed one Christmas, which … commemorated! … twelve Christmas quirks special to our family … “David drinking eggnog … Kerri caught in a snow storm … Noni’s … Christmas … LETTER!” You should have been here! David guzzled a glass of the real stuff each time through until he was nearly as green as the tree … they threw handsfull of chopped Styrofoam all over my living room to highlight the memory of that unhappy event when road closures kept Kerri thirty miles away on Christmas Eve at a Holiday Inn, and oh my! They read little excerpts from my Christmas letters that were so very well done that I thought they had actually copied from my files … until the entries became more and more ludicrous and hysterical … like “Austin just started his first year at M.I.T. We are all going to miss him, but we will enjoy having a twelve year old systems engineer in the family!”

Here for your consideration … is all this just dragging the holidays out, ad nauseum?

That, of course, depends upon one’s view of the purpose for all these liturgical episodes. To many of us, this season is the greatest preparatory division of the year. Lent is for reflection, repentance, and penance – don’t be frightened by that word. We’re going to give it a facelift coming up! Pentecost is exultant and powerful. Advent and Epiphany are really rather quiet, overwhelmingly hopeful and watchful.

I keep trying, as I read through the Gospels, to keep a complete list of how many times Jesus tells us to “watch and pray,” to “be on guard,” to be “steadfast” or “sober” in our daily  lives. I’ve never completed the count, but it’s OFTEN. When we consider that the Lord doesn’t always repeat Himself, this seems significant to me.

We have three days left in this year, and of those Twelve Days from December 26 to January 6 (the traditional day marking the visit of the Magi, the revelation of Jesus as God in flesh, and thus the day of His revelation to the Gentiles,) today is number 4.

Remember the song? Four Calling Birds … believed to represent the four Gospels, calling to the world to put all trust and hope in Christ Jesus. That’s today!

Let me share another personal anecdote with you: there are a number of us that are currently winding up our FIFTH reading through the Gospels. We started before Christmas last year and have read one chapter each morning, taking notes brief or otherwise, as we choose, all year long. We will finish up early in February. For thirteen months we have shared one discovery or reflection for each chapter when we gathered, weekly.

Oh, how I do encourage you to make the daily reading of the Gospels a perennial habit! This project came to us through a young man who began doing so in prison, doing “hard time,” and whose testimony was to us that on the third time through, his life changed forever. Must have – he is a very influential and Christlike pastor now.

The Scriptures themselves speak of the preeminence of the Gospels.

As you map out your 2015 trajectory, consider including a daily visit to the words of Christ Jesus. For us, those of us who began this quest over a year ago, we concluded that this would be the single best way of having what the disciples had … unmitigated Jesus! That was the only thing that set them apart from you and me … they had three years of Jesus, Jesus, and more Jesus. They left us the core, and the Holy Spirit has given us the unction, of those years so that we can have Him, too.

Three more days … may God grant us grace to spend part of them listening to hear what He has in store for us as this New Year dawns.

Xavier Romero-Frias

Lord Jesus, as we light our tree and our Advent candles today, we will rejoice, not for Christmastide alone, but that we may celebrate it in the truth of Your birth and in the sober majesty of your Passion and Resurrection, and we will pause to remember those in darkness. You are the Light of Life, gracious God. In Your light, may they see light, as once we did.

We celebrate, and they stand outside. We have invited them in, and they didn’t come. We went out to them and they ran away, but Your light reaches around every corner. Their darkness has not been able to extinguish the gleam of love for them that shines in our hearts.

They will come, because they cannot believe without You, and You cannot forget our prayers for them. Some of us never celebrate without a lonely, wounded place where someone loved ought to be, but celebrate we do.

But they are not our Christmas … You are, and we are going to rejoice in every moment of this joyous day. You have taken us for Your own and filled us with Your Good Spirit, and goodness knows how to rejoice, how to enjoy all You have accomplished and how to trust all that You have promised. In You, we celebrate and mourn all at once, for You reign in light. No matter how dark the world or how dark one life may be, our mourning will be turned to joy, and that is real, and that is glorious, for that’s Your Word to us, and He has dawned in our hearts.

Merry Christmas, Lord Jesus, and thank You for it.

that what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled:

“The land of Zeb’ulun and the land of Naph’tali, toward the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles–

the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.” (Matthew 4:14-16)

 Fyodor Bruni, 1858

public domain

Here we are together. It’s Christmas Eve. I hope all your gifts are under your tree and all your cookies frosted. We probably all have a great long to-do list even now, but may we be given to accomplish it in peace … and joy … and glory.

On this night, whatever date it might have been, those couple of thousand years ago, the very highest of the heights came by commandment to the very lowest of the low in Israel. Those shepherds, unwashed, likely somewhat unkempt, Sabbath-breakers by trade, tending the blood payment for the sins of the people, and suddenly the night sky was ablaze with creatures that had come, perhaps in the blink of an eye, from the Presence of God.

Here is the grand dichotomy, the greatest of all in this story: as they sang the glory of God in the atmosphere, they would never be able to sing the song the shepherds will sing. They will never sing the Song of the Redeemed.

We would so love to share their spotlessness. That kind of cleanness is enviable. Still, while they are perfectly obedient, we have the Spirit of Christ alive in our breasts … think how they might covet that! They bow to a glory they will never experience for themselves. They did see one third of their fellows fall, and that without reparation. Because of the same Lord and God, we don’t understand that kind of finality, either. Perhaps we ought better to respect it.

We believe they must have known that salvation was coming to the earth. Surely they could see our condition. Surely they knew, when Jesus their King stepped down from His throne and place at the right hand of the Father, that what He left to do was momentous beyond history, time, and understanding.   Yet they knew, too, that it was completely fitting with His Person. They hadn’t seen it before, but they had seen Him. He was always the Lamb (speaking of shepherds), the Lamb Slain Before the Foundation of the World.

What always had been was about to Be. Never will they know Redemption; never will we know heaven without it. They can see, but they cannot relate. Nevertheless, the glory of it filled their song and filled the skies and filled the hearts of those shepherds, for shepherds do not leave their sheep unattended. I like to think that the joy and glory of the angels was that their Sovereign and God was about to get what He desired, a people to be His own, one with Him, forever, of their own will, by the agency of His grace. These are things that angels can only admire.

Angels don’t make themselves manifest and sing aloud over the meadows in the middle of the night very often. This is Christmas. Our sparkly paper and bows and sweet treats are so paltry, so inadequate to portray the wonder of that night, but our rejoicing can overflow in all our celebration.

I hope, I pray, that sometime this day or evening, as our Advent candles are lit or while we sit and watch them glow, that everything will be done that must be and that everything else will fade away and that we will listen, listen … listen … to hear the angels sing.

And for all that we cannot share with them, perhaps we can take them back to that night and spread a little Christmas in the halls of their glory.

And in that region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.

And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with fear.

And the angel said to them, “Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people;

for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.

And this will be a sign for you: you will find a babe wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.”

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom he is pleased!”

When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.”

And they went with haste, and found Mary and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.

And when they saw it they made known the saying which had been told them concerning this child;

and all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them.

But Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart.

And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.   (Luke 2:8-20)

 Song of the Angels, 1881

William-Adolphe Bouguereaux, public domain

There is something about the extravagance of Christmas, with which many of us have a love/hate relationship, that I love.

I do hate the commercialization of this holy, holy hour. I do hate my own busy-ness when it threatens to turn me into a worse version of myself than I am most of the rest of the year.

I hate when I spend or think I should spend more money than has been set aside for our celebration …

But, I love that we love to spend and do and decorate and sing and sparkle and give and visit and feast and laugh and rejoice and gather and restore and renew and all the other precious things that seem heightened, along with the stress, at Christmastime.

It’s as if Christendom is on watch, and really not just for the presents. That’s such a small part of it all. It’s the watching that we love, I think. The anticipation. That’s the secret joy of Advent.

I was talking with a friend just today who may have to spend Christmas alone. She isn’t lamenting the gifts she won’t get on the day, it’s the fun and the friendship and the festivity. All of those wonderful parts of the holidays are wrapped up in the extravagance of Christmastime … hence the gift giving and the houses that look like red and green peacocks. I am taking a slightly different approach … I think Christendom DOES know the reason for the season, even if we don’t give Him half the attention He deserves any day of the year.

Christmas isn’t Mardi Gras – not even close. It isn’t the Fourth of July … it doesn’t feel like that either, despite the fireworks, food, and frolicking.

I rather think that anyone who has even once heard the Christmas story told will ever relate the spectacular aspects of this event, the lights, carols, trees, wreaths, gifts, ribbons, punch and cookies to that account, at least in small measure, unless they make a strong Ebenezer Scrooge decision against it. Christmas gives itself to extravagance, even if we could refine our traditions at times.

In all of the spectacular-ness, one extravagant individual always stands out to me. I marvel at Mary’s faith and trust and willingness, but upon the heels of her “Be it unto me,” she very soon knew she was pregnant and she knew the Child had no earthly father. Joseph’s extravagance takes my breath away. Extravagant trust, obedience, and love. Extravagant graciousness and mercy and humility. Not that Mary was without those, but Joseph’s “all in” warms my heart in a special way. In a way, Mary, knowing that she was speaking with an emissary from the throne of God, gave herself to glory. By way of a very difficult path.

No “Magnificat” comes from Joseph’s lips, at least not in Scripture. He just got up and did as he was bid.

I don’t want the Lord to find more Christmas in my heart than this kind of extravagance, Joseph’s and Mary’s kind, but here we are, after all, celebrating once again their spectacular trust and praying that it may be found in us.

18 Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child of the Holy Spirit;

19 and her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly.

20 But as he considered this, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary your wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit;

21 she will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”

22 All this took place to fulfil what the Lord had spoken by the prophet:

23 “Behold, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and his name shall be called Emmanuel” (which means, God with us).

24 When Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took his wife,

25 but knew her not until she had borne a son; and he called his name Jesus. (Matthew 1:18-25)

Clifton Mill, West Virginia,

photo courtesy of moofpocket, Wikipedia

I can’t write about this passage … I am powerless to do more than rejoice in it. This God who addresses us as “daughters” and “sons,” because He is a Father!

Look at His love! Look how He comforts us, and with strength!

This is our warfare, my beloved friends! Look at this Warrior – this rejoicing, singing, renewing God! To think that hell is powerless against His joy! If only we would enter into it! He has taken away the judgments against us! Our enemies are cast out!

            He stands … He sings … in our midst. Perhaps you have heard that the word “exult” in the last verse is such a powerful word that it cannot be contained with emotion alone … it is the word for dancing and twirling about ecstatically!

Oh, we are weak with love, but our hands can bend a bow of bronze … it’s true! We can string a bow meant for the mightiest, because we are the mightiest, and we can FIRE arrows into the heart of the Lord’s enemies.

Let’s do that together as we light our Advent candles tonight. Let’s let these realities flood up through our souls and out of our mouths … the tide turns on our praise! We are the mighty in the land, and as we go forth, He dances for joy!

Sing aloud, O daughter of Zion; shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter of Jerusalem!

The LORD has taken away the judgments against you, he has cast out your enemies. The King of Israel, the LORD, is in your midst; you shall fear evil no more.

On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem: “Do not fear, O Zion; let not your hands grow weak.

The LORD, your God, is in your midst, a warrior who gives victory; he will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.       ( Zephaniah 3:14-17 )

photo courtesy of

Msgr. Charles Pope

Archdiocese of Washington

On this fourth Advent Sunday, here is a gift for you … and me. The reading is in Isaiah, chapter 11 … my dear, dear friends … you will see that what we have before us is only a smattering of all that has been spoken concerning us … NOTHING has been left undone; in no way have we been left outside in the cold this Advent season.

I will light my four candles and remember this, and remember you, in prayer.

1 There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots,

            I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing. (John 15:5)

2 And the Spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the LORD.

            This I say then, Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh. (Galatians 15:5)

3 And his delight shall be in the fear of the LORD. He shall not judge by what his eyes see, or decide by what his ears hear;

            the Lord delights in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love. (Psalm 147:11)

4 but with righteousness he shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; and he shall smite the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked.  

            And with that he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. (John 20:22)

5 Righteousness shall be the girdle of his waist, and faithfulness the girdle of his loins.

Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; (Ephesians 6:14)

6 The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.

If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. (Romans 12:18)

7 The cow and the bear shall feed; their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.

God blesses those who are humble, for they will inherit the whole earth.   (Matthew 5:5)

8 The sucking child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder’s den.

            I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you. (Luke 10:19)

9 They shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea.

            and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.” (Luke 1:33)

10 In that day the root of Jesse shall stand as an ensign to the peoples; him shall the nations seek, and his dwellings shall be glorious.   (Isaiah 11:1-10)

            In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. (John 14:2)

 a young Hass avocado shoot

Ingvar-fed

by permission, Wikipedia 

Yesterday, per our Advent reading, a man blind from birth received his sight.

Today we are told that all flesh shall see the glory of the Lord.

For us, it isn’t a matter of which is more important to us, for we know it is better to enter into life lame and blind (Matthew 18:8.9) than to go with all your limbs and sight into eternal fire. Yet we remember the Lord’s miraculous healing of another fellow in Luke 5:23 …

Which is easier: to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up and walk’?

            All flesh shall see the glory of the Lord? When? Where? How?

Not many of us have ever said to a blind man, “Receive your sight,” or to a cripple, “Rise and walk.” Would that we might.

We can say this … “I forgive you.”

Let’s say it today, as far and as wide as we are able. Perhaps from that saying there will come forth healing beyond anything we’ve known. What matters is that we enter into life, and bring with us as many as we can. Their offense may or may not have been against us – never mind. We have the message of forgiveness in our breast, and many need to hear it in theirs.

There are several historical persons listed in today’s reading. Several of them actually saw the Salvation of God, but the way was unprepared in them.

God grant us to make paths straight through our prayers, our kingdom perspectives, our forgiveness and the message of the Gospel in and through us. We have a part. It may seems small in relation to the billions of souls abiding in darkness, but it is enormous, for no one can do more than to prepare the way for another. Amen.

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiber’i-us Caesar, Pontius Pilate being governor of Judea, and Herod being tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip tetrarch of the region of Iturae’a and Trachoni’tis, and Lysa’ni-as tetrarch of Abile’ne,

in the high-priesthood of Annas and Ca’iaphas, the word of God came to John the son of Zechari’ah in the wilderness;

and he went into all the region about the Jordan, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.

As it is written in the book of the words of Isaiah the prophet, “The voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.

Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be brought low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways shall be made smooth;

and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.” (Luke 3:1-6)

View of earth from Apollo 8, December 24 – a sight unseen but for the last few seconds on history’s clock

(reading from the book of Genesis on that Eve, from space)

NASA photo 

Wherever we find ourselves this Advent season, no matter what is going on around us, there is a truth sheltering us that can change our lives. In the darkness, even in our own blindness, the outcome of all things is meant to manifest the works of God.

Let us, with praise and thanksgiving to the Lord and for His Word, let us not be blind to that reality. All things work together for good for those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose. (Romans 8:28)

How can we know we fit that category? His purpose is that all things be summed up in His Son (Ephesians 1:10,) so we can dedicate our lives to that happy ending, one that nobody can anticipate without faith and hope, and nobody can forestall it.

And as to loving Him, it isn’t that difficult. We love Him the way we would love a spouse, looking to His interests, giving Him time, and lots of it, deferring to His heart and entrusting our own to Him. Enjoying Him! Oh, yes … enjoying Him! Refusing to fret when things don’t go our way … we have HIM!

Now we’re not blind anymore, and if we couldn’t see, we could look to the assurance that God will absolutely find a way to be glorified, blindness notwithstanding. What, after all, is impaired sight compared with the sin and iniquity from which we have been cleansed and set free.

As he passed by, he saw a man blind from his birth.

And his disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

Jesus answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be made manifest in him.

We must work the works of him who sent me, while it is day; night comes, when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”

As he said this, he spat on the ground and made clay of the spittle and anointed the man’s eyes with the clay,

saying to him, “Go, wash in the pool of Silo’am” (which means Sent). So he went and washed and came back seeing.   (John 9:1-7)

S’ant Apollinare Nuovo, Ravenna, Italy

We’ve spent most of this Advent season talking about the Light of the World, and it has blessed us to do so.

Today’s reading speaks of comfort, and as this week progresses, may the Shepherding of God revive our souls.

As Christmas advances, there are so many around us, bereft of comfort and out of touch with God, our Shepherd, ourselves among them when we get too busy, too stressed, too anxious, too overstimulated with all we think Christmas ought to be.  Not that such things are restricted to the Advent season!  Most of us can do that all year long!   We pause today to remember those who are stressed, who are anxious, some almost beyond endurance, and many through no Christmas fault of their own.  Life is hard and tribulations are promised. We lift them up to You, beloved Lord. We lift up our souls, whether peaceful or agitated.

There are so many for whom Christmas is just another week, perhaps another difficulty, through which to survive. With all the business and activity of Christmas, we remember them as You remember us, and we ask that we might be given to keep our hearts light, in this season and always.  All of our souls, their and ours, always in your care, always watched over, always protected, though storms do rage.

If we cannot speak tenderly to them in person, we speak tenderly of them to You, Lord God, Almighty King. Ours are now the voices crying out, and we do cry out in prayer over them and in praise to the Lord, the Lover of their souls, “Behold your God! He comes with might, and He will feed you like a shepherd, and with His arm He will gather you and gently lead the nursing ewes!”  That is my prayer for you, too, and for all of us as my candles are lighted today.

Oh, Merry Christmas, world! In the midst of all affliction, all confusion, all pain, all hard service, even oppression, He will lead us out, He will gently lead us, and where we are most vulnerable, He makes every special provision that we and our young will flourish in His care.

 Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.

Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned, that she has received from the LORD’s hand double for all her sins.

A voice cries: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain.

And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together, for the mouth of the LORD has spoken.”

A voice says, “Cry!” And I said, “What shall I cry?” All flesh is grass, and all its beauty is like the flower of the field.

The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the LORD blows upon it; surely the people is grass. The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand for ever.

Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good tidings; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings, lift it up, fear not; say to the cities of Judah, “Behold your God!”

Behold, the Lord GOD comes with might, and his arm rules for him; behold, his reward is with him, and his recompense before him.

He will feed his flock like a shepherd, he will gather the lambs in his arms, he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young. (Isaiah 40:1-11)

 Woodcarving, Shepherds Crook and Lamb

Carsington Water Park, England

Steph Goodway, by permission

That’s quite a statement Jesus made to Nicodemus that night. Not just the one known by nearly everyone who watches football in America, but the one a few verses down:

But he who does what is true comes to the light, that it may be clearly seen that his deeds have been wrought in God.

It reads as if, when we do what is true and keep ourselves in the light of truth, it will be plain to see that what that we do comes from God.

Lots of times, though, for our deeds to be seen to have been formed in light, we are showcased in pretty thick darkness.

Not only that, but there are lots of things going on that are invisible to others, only seen by the agents of darkness – and angels that dwell in unapproachable light.  We don’t expose others in their sin, but devils see and wonder at the secret deeds we do that pierce their dark abode, acts of kindness and generosity and friendship.   When they’ve made men and women, and some children, so obnoxious and wretched that nobody wants to be around them, you and I take time with those troubled souls, we listen to them, and even learn to enjoy them. We love them not just to bring them to the Lord, but because He loves them already.

Initially, and perhaps for a long while, nobody does seem to see what’s going on, and many wouldn’t care anyway. But as time marches on, what has been wrought in God and carried out through our faithfulness, begins to shine. How many times have we heard the testimony of someone who was steeped in darkness, but one soul, one grandmother or one friend or a boss or a neighbor, one person would not be intimated by darkness. No one saw the light streaming there until it radiated through the redemption of one lost beyond human help.

And all the while, as we are shining a path of love and truth for others, unbeknownst to us, the Light of the World begins to stream through our everyday lives, our speech, our eyes, our deeds, our hope, our love. In all this, our goal is to make it very, very difficult for anyone to maintain a love for darkness. We loved it once, and we remember what it was like when one brave soul stepped down into the mausoleum of our death holding just one bright candle.

My prayer, as I light my Advent candles today, is that you and I will not grow faint in the dark, for darkness will not overpower the Light by which we live and love.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

For God sent the Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.

He who believes in him is not condemned; he who does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God.

And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil.

For every one who does evil hates the light, and does not come to the light, lest his deeds should be exposed.

But he who does what is true comes to the light, that it may be clearly seen that his deeds have been wrought in God.   ( John 3:16-21 )

Three bees wax candles found at the Alamannic gravyard of Oberflacht, Seitingen-Oberflacht, Kreis Tuttlingen, Germany. Dating to 6th or beginning 7th century A.D. They are the oldest survived bees wax candles north of the Alps.

Bullenwachter, by permission