I wish you well. May your table be graced with lovely women and good men. May you drink well enough to drown the envy of youth in the satisfactions of maturity. May your men wear their weight with pride, secure in the knowledge that they have at last become considerable. May they rejoice that they will never again be taken for callow, black-haired boys. And your women? Ah! Women are like cheese strudels. When first baked, they are crisp and fresh on the outside, but the filling is unsettled and indigestible; in age, the crust may not be so lovely, but the filling comes at last into its own. May you relish them indeed. May we all sit long enough for reserve to give way to ribaldry and for gallantry to grow upon us. May there be singing at our table before the night is done, and old, broad jokes to fling at the stars and tell them we are men.

We are great, my friend; we shall not be saved for trampling that greatness under foot … Come then; leap upon these mountains, skip upon these hills and heights of earth. The road to Heaven does not run from the world but through it. The longest Session of all is no discontinuation of these sessions here, but a lifting of them all by priestly love. It is a place for men, not ghosts—for the risen gorgeousness of the New Earth and for the glorious earthiness of the True Jerusalem.

Eat well then. Between our love and His Priesthoood, He makes all things new. Our Last Home will be home indeed. – Robert Farrar Capon, The Supper of the Lamb

We are at the end of 2015, a year that I have to say I am glad to see away. We have struggled and we have celebrated, and through it all we have been reminded that this world is but a shadow of what is to come. There will be sort of like here, but better, greater, more glorious, more than our imaginings can imagine.

So I want to leave you with one more song that is so fitting for us at the end of 2015. Eric Peters is a great singer-songwriter who you may not know but really should. Listen as he sings “The Old Year”:

At the end of 2015, I echo the words of Robert Farrar Capon above – “Come then; leap upon these mountains, skip upon these hills and heights of earth. The road to Heaven does not run from the world but through it.” I hope you have celebrated the season with a fullness and richness this year that has nothing to do with the presents that were under your tree but were more about savoring the gifts of God. I pray that we would carry forth in the same way into 2016, ever watchful for the beautiful and the joyful. I will see you next year!

 

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