Since it is Christmas Eve, I wanted to talk about what might be my favorite piece of art surrounding Christmas: Esther Strauß’s ‘Crowning’
If you’ve heard of Crowning, it is probably because of the massive controversy surrounding the sculpture. In 2023, Strauß sculpted Crowning for a contemporary art exhibition in St. Mary’s cathedral in Austria. The exhibition was intended to be “a venue for discussion of contemporary questions about women’s roles, family images and gender equality” in the Church, and so Strauß chose to create a truly human portrayal of Mary, the Mother of God. The title of the sculpture is a pun referencing both Jesus’ incarnation as the King of Kings on Earth and when a newborn baby’s head crowns during child birth.
The sculpture showed Mary in the last stages of childbirth— her beautiful, heavenly robes pool around her pregnant stomach as she spreads her legs, hands clutching at the ground below her, eyes turned up to the heavens as she prays for the pain to be over. She knows the joy of holding her baby is coming, but in this movement, the contractions are agonizing and all she wishes is for her God to hold her. Her eyes are filled with tears and devotion as she looks skyward, and her heaving breaths are a prayer.
Crowning was displayed for only a short time before being brutally vandalized because of its “abominable and blasphemous caricature”. A group of anonymous vandals decapitated Mary and stole the head, an action that was praised by many Austrian Christian communities.
Our Lady of Sorrows is an extremely popular depiction of Mary. Simeon says her heart will be pierced, and it is, brutally, as she watches the torture and execution of her Son. We know Jesus brought Mary pain— His life as her child was a glorious blessing to Mary, but it brought her agony. Is it too much to think that His birth may have done the same?
I meant to make a post for the day of the Holy Innocents but the 28th just passed me by. I overslept and couldn't make it to church even though it's one of the ONLY years that the 28th is on a Sunday AND it was year A in the revised common lectionary so we actually would have read Matthew 2:12-23 in church. foolish.
anyway I never thought about this festival or realized it existed until my previous pastor gave a sermon about gun violence and the American sacrifice of children to the second amendment. I think of that every year now on this day and I regret that, at least in the Lutheran church, we only observe it once every three years, at best. All the children sacrificed for power: Black children for police power, Palestinian children for global hegemony, Congolese children for money, American children for guns...
I hope you heard a good sermon for their day today. If you e not already, I invite you to say the Holy Innocents prayer:
We remember today, O God, the slaughter of the holy innocents of Bethlehem by King Herod. Receive, we pray, into the arms of your mercy all innocent victims; and by your great might frustrate the designs of evil tyrants and establish your rule of justice, love and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the union of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Additional Tags: Golden Age, Romance, Cosy, Christmas, Royal Romance, Tudor 12 Days of Christmas inspired, (not the carol), No Drama, Falling In Love, Pre-Raphaelite Inspired, Fluff
Summary:
Ever since the Kings and Queens returned to Narnia, Christmas has been a huge event. This year Lady Asline joins her father in attending the celebrations, though she finds herself drawn to the library where she makes an unexpected friend.
First scene under read more
Lady Asline of Ticemond knew that winter in Narnia was colder than Archenland. She also was well aware of her aversion to the cold. Yet, when her father, Cardin, the Earl of Ticemond, asked her if she would like to join him in Cair Paravel for the Yuletide celebrations there was no way she could say no — even if she had to spend over two months in the cold, with no easy way back home due to the mountain passages freezing over and the sea route being prone winter storms.
After accidentally spending Martinmas to St. Nicholas' Day sitting by the fire in the suite she shared with her father, Asline had to get out. Her close friend Lady Ellyn, Marchioness of Oradge, and her husband Lord Francus, Marquess of Oradge, had suggested that she join them for a walk around the Castle grounds, as was a popular pastime of Narnian's before the snow fell, but it was still too cold for her.
Instead, Asline explored the corridors of Cair Paravel — even then she was wrapped in multiple layers and had her goatskin trimmed cloak fastened tightly. She had heard much about the library and the tales which lived within, and was hoping it would be as cosy as the wood panelled library of her family home.
When she finally found the giant engraved oak doors, she knew she was in for so much more.
The room was huge. Rows upon rows of books, scrolls and loose bits of paper wrapped in string, between each one a table with multiple chairs. Three fireplaces lined the left wall; a grand one in the middle with intricate carving on the stone mantle; smaller, but no less detailed, fireplaces either side of it. Surrounding each fireplace was a collection of plush chairs and cushions. At the rear of the room, a curved staircase led to a second floor of shelves interspersed with windows overlooking Narnia's Northern landscape. Asline was certain that all the scholars of Archenland could find a spot to study and there would still be room to spare.
It had the dual ability to be peaceful and overwhelming at the same time. It was peaceful because the only person in the library, beside herself, was a centaur with glasses perched upon his nose and a stack of books in his arms. But she had never seen so many shelves in one place, she had no idea where she'd find the books recommended by her father.
"Do you require assistance?" He asked, his voice was deep and calming.
"Yes, thank you. I had heard people praise this library, but even what I thought was exaggeration doesn't do it justice."
"Thank you, my Lady, it's an honour to hear such praise." And it was clear he meant it, as a smile tickled at his cheeks and blush danced across his nose. "I am Galethorn, the librarian, at your service."
"Lady Asline. It's a pleasure, truly."
Galethorn was able to direct Asline to the exact shelf for her first book and suggested the far fireplace as a spot to read, as even though he wouldn't expect many people on a day as clear as this, it was one of the quieter spots in the room.
As much as she wanted to settle on one of the comfortable chairs, Asline was still chilled to the bone, and instead sat on the edge of the hearth on a cushion. Her copper curls falling around her face, blocking the world out as she worked her way through a collection of short stories.
Like that she was lost to the passing of time.
The stories had an amazingly Narnian feel with their talking animals and focus on morals, and the author, Aesop, had such a foreign sounding name.
"Do you think, perhaps, that sitting on the fire might help?"
Asline's head whipped up. In the time it took her eyes to go from her book to his freckled face, she had already made a full assessment. He was handsome, well groomed and his clothes were fine; displaying he was a part of the upper echelon of society. Though he couldn't be an Earl or higher, as her mother made her learn the names and faces of all the Archenland nobles of her parents rank and higher and his skin too fair to be of Calormen. He was also carrying a stack of books and had ink staining his fingers; anyone working beyond building connections while visiting Narnia must not have a large staff back home to take care of things while they are away. Or if he wasn't a noble, maybe a successful merchant or an advisor. Either way, she knew she could afford a little less formality.
"I am tempted. With the ceilings as grand as they are here, it's a struggle to keep warm."
His whole face lit up in laughter, warming Asline in a way the fire could not.
"Noted, my lady." He said with a bow before climbing the stairs to the upper floor, a chuckle dancing on his words.
With his departure, she returned to her book, but his smile played on her mind for longer than she cared to admit.
Merry St. Stephen’s Day! I’m celebrating with mulled cider and the Glyndebourne Opera filmed production of Nozze di Figaro. I hope the rest of your Christmas is pleasant and convivial.
A good St. Stephen's Day to you, and thanks for the good wishes for Christmastide! Your observances sound excellent.
