December’s Literary Life

In Henry IV Shakespeare wrote “Farewell, thou latter spring; farewell, All-hallown summer!” referring to these summer-like days in late autumn following a killing frost. Today we call it Indian Summer and it is altogether wonderful. Autumn is quickly drawing to a close and winter is soon to set in deep with its shorter days and longer nights, yet for just a moment, we have the brief remembrance of summer days that remind us of what was, and what is to come again.

When we celebrate communion, we are basking in the Indian Summer of our Christian life. Jesus was here. He was one of us and the life He lived taught us how to live abundantly. The death He died provided salvation and His resurrection is our promise of eternal life. We live here now, for a season in winter, but when we celebrate communion we remember Him, our glorious summer and know with full assurance that we will once again bask in His glory.

As Emily Dickinson wrote

These are the days when Birds come back—
A very few—a Bird or two—
To take a backward look.
These are the days when skies resume
The old—old sophistries of June—
A blue and gold mistake.
Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee.
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief,
Till ranks of seeds their witness bear—
And softly thro’ the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf.
Oh sacrament of summer days,
Oh Last Communion in the Haze—
Permit a child to join—
Thy sacred emblems to partake—
They consecrated bread to take
And thine immortal wine!

Here on Literary Life, the month of Advent is a beautiful occasion to enjoy the season of anticipation as we look forward to Christmas.  Literary Life is a nod to Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s Biographia Literaria which poet and priest Malcolm Guite describes as “…an eclectic mix of autobiography, philosophical history, literary criticism, rambling anecdote, and radical new theology, all held together and threaded through with a constant witness to the power of the Logos, to the great analogy of language. At its heart is the idea that the cosmos is spoken into being by Mind, that nature is itself a kind of language, and that our own use of language is, therefore, a series of clues as to the meaning of both mind and cosmos. So the literary criticism and the theology are not separate and disparate parts of the book; they are the same thing.”

In this gathering of readers from around the world, thanks will indeed be given. In addition to this site, our closest friends from over 130 countries meet in our Facebook discussion group, which you can join by clicking HERE.

Come.  Read with us as you live your Literary Life.

However little he may be fitted to teach others, he wishes to share his thoughts with those whom he feels congenial, but who are scattered far and wide in the world. By this means, he wishes to reestablish his relation with his old friends, to continue it with new ones, and to gain in the younger generation still others for the remainder of his life. He wishes to spare youth the circuitous paths upon which he himself went astray, and while observing and utilizing the advantages of the present, to maintain the memory of his praiseworthy earlier efforts.
With this serious view, a small society has been brought together; may cheerfulness attend our undertakings, and time may show whither we are bound.

Published by

Rick Wilcox

Editor in Chief | Literary Life