A “brilliant” introduction to the Inklings writers

well-of-wonder-e-mail-5Just in and currently only available from Paraclete Press is A Well of Wonder: Essays on C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, and the Inklings by Clyde S. Kilby (Professor of English at Wheaton College and founder of the Marion E. Wade Center, a research center including a collection of materials by Inklings authors.)

“Clyde Kilby opened the door on beauty and put us in the hands of a whole set of wise, holy, and imaginative guides.” — from the Introduction by Loren Wilkinson

Listen to an excerpt from the chapter “Into the Land of the Imagination” on C. S. Lewis and how The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe came to be.

Listen here

This book is a brilliant introduction to the themes of themes of myth, theology, and imagination in the fiction and prose of the Inklings writers!

All Creation Waits – Stunning, for Advent


Looking for something new this Advent?

This December, reach for a truly beautiful and unique Advent companion! In this book are twenty-five fresh images of the foundational truth of the Christ story. Portraits depicting how wild animals of North America ingeniously adapt when darkness and cold descend allow us to see and hear, as if for the first time, the ancient wisdom of Advent: The dark is not an end but a doorway to a new beginning.

“Each of the beautiful creatures in this little book is a unique word of God, its own metaphor. . . they announce the Good News of Advent: that through every dark door the creating Love of the universe waits.” — Richard Rohr, OFM

Short, daily reflections that paint vivid, poetic images of familiar animals, paired with charming original woodcuts, will engage both children and adults — a wonderful gift!

A Spiritual Odyssey

path-revealed-e-mail-header-1Just days after turning fifty, Martha Maddux is told she has Alzheimer’s disease. As Martha and Carlen navigate this new alien world, their faith is challenged and they experience spiritual transformation – the “journey from a conventional faith to a stunningly real relationship with God.”

A Path Revealed is a deep spiritual memoir. As Carlen seeks healing for his wife, he encounters God in a new way and finds growth and healing for himself. For anyone coping with a crisis, this book tells the story of finding a spiritual path through the darkest of hours.

“You or a loved one may be staring your own crisis – cancer, stroke, job loss, diabetes, heart attack, home foreclosure – you name it. Regardless of the crisis, the potential for emotional and psychological upheaval is much the same . . . but this is not a story about hopelessness. Rather, our story traces a different path.” — Carlen Maddux

“The reader who travels with Carlen into the mysterious depths of human life, human tragedy, and human relationships will be led to reflect, to ponder, and to expand.  .  .  . I urge [you] to move into the maze and the mystery that is Carlen’s story, which may also lead you into deeper reflection on the maze and mystery of your own story.” — Rev. Dr. Arthur Ross III, from the Foreword

Mozart – In Concert and on CD

Greetings from Paraclete Recordings!

Gloriæ Dei Cantores presents one of the world’s classical masterpieces, Mozart’s Requiem, as well as a hidden gem, Britten’s The Company of Heaven, in celebration of the Feast of All Saints. Led by Artistic Director and Principal Conductor Richard K. Pugsley, this concert will be performed with full orchestra and world-class guest soloists Martha Guth, Soprano; Kathryn Leemhuis, Alto; Aaron Sheehan, Tenor; and Andrew Nolen, Bass. Concerts will take place October 28 & 29 at the stunning Church of the Transfiguration at Rock Harbor in Orleans, Massachusetts (on Cape Cod). This concert is sure to be a highlight in New England for classical music and fine arts lovers.  Click here for more details.
You can also follow Gloriae Dei Cantores on Facebook and Twitter.

More about Mozart!Mozart: Rare Choral Works

In a relatively short life, Mozart achieved “musical immortality” through an astonishing variety of responses to musical form and the human condition, through an unwavering adherence to classical ideas, and through an indomitable spirit that led him through difficult times despite his human foibles.

It is well known that Mozart was a precocious child with musical gifts beyond imagining, and his father Leopold toured him around the great courts of Europe. It was during one of these visits that Mozart’s incredible ear was discovered: after he listened to a performance of Allegri’s Miserere in the Sistine Chapel, he transcribed it perfectly onto manuscript paper.  Because this particular music was a closely guarded composition for the Vatican, Mozart’s transcription was kept under lock and key for no one else to see. Despite the grueling conditions of touring, Mozart gathered serious elements of sacred composition during this time from people like Padre Martini and other fine teachers in Italy.

What is likely not so well known is that Mozart also composed a substantial amount of sacred choral music in his lifetime, much more than the popular Requiem and Mass in C minor.

Misericordias Domini was written by Mozart while employed as a court musician in Salzburg, 1773–1777. During a trip to Munich in early 1775 to hear a performance of his opera Lafinta giardiniera, Mozart received a request from the Elector Maximillian III Joseph of Bavariato write contrapuntal music. Mozart accepted the challenge and set the liturgical text of Misericordias Domini to a single-movement chorus. With a spare orchestration of just strings and continuo, Mozart wrote this masterpiece of polyphony and counterpoint based on a single line of text. He alternates homophony and polyphony in the choral writing, while the orchestra interjects and supports the endless variety of musical and rhetorical responses to the text. The work alternates between the soft, solemn refrain of “Misericordias Domini” and the loud, more animated and melismatic polyphony of “cantabo in aeternum” (“I shall sing forever”).  There are strains of a familiar tune within Misericordias Domini which many consider a foreshadowing of the final movement of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony commonly referred to as “Ode to Joy” written in 1824, 33 years after the death of Mozart.  (from the Concert Program notes for Gloriae Dei Cantores concert, July 2014)

Feast of Saint Francis of Assisi

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Today is the Feast Day of Saint Francis of Assisi!

To celebrate, we’re offering 30% off all books about the world’s most popular saint. We know of the great love Francis had for all of God’s creatures, so we are extending the offer to all books that celebrate our animal companions and all that they can teach us about the love of God. Use coupon code FRANCIS at checkout.

New site!

We have a new site!

Thank you for your patience with our recent software upgrades!

We’ve been experiencing some growing pains recently and it became clear that we needed new software and a new website. Our new site is now live and you can use this link to connect directly to your existing customer account!

As a thank you, we are offering a 15% discount off of your first purchase – use coupon code NEWWEB at checkout. Offer expires 9/30/16.

Midwest Book Review: A Short Trip to the Edge

Here’s a review from for newest book from Scott Cairns, courtesy of the Midwest Book Review.

Short Trip to the Edge: A Pilgrimage to Prayer
Scott Cairns

Synopsis: Poet and literature professor Scott Cairns ran headlong into his midlife crisis (a fairly common experience among men nearing the age of fifty) while walking on the beach with his Labrador. His was not a desperate attempt to recapture youth, filled with Short Tripsports cars and younger women. Instead, Cairns realized his spiritual life was advancing at a snail’s pace and time was running out. Midlife crisis for this Baptist turned Eastern Orthodox Christian manifested as a desperate need to seek out prayer.

Originally published in 2007, this new edition of “Short Trip to the Edge: A Pilgrimage to Prayer” from Paraclete Press includes photos, maps and an expanded narrative of Scott’s spiritual journey to the mystical peninsula of Mt. Athos. With twenty monasteries and thirteen sketes scattered across its sloping terrain, the Holy Mountain was the perfect place for Scott to seek out a prayer father and discover the stillness of the true prayer life. Told with wit and exquisite prose, his narrative takes the reader from a beach in Virginia to the most holy Orthodox monasteries in the world to a monastery in Arizona and back again as Scott struggles to find his prayer path. Along the way, Cairns forged relationships with monks, priests, and fellow pilgrims.

Critique: Impressively well written, organized and presented, this new edition of “Short Trip to the Edge: A Pilgrimage to Prayer” with its photographic illustrations is an inherently fascinating and consistently compelling read from first page to last. Informative, thoughtful, written with insight and inspiration, “Short Trip to the Edge: A Pilgrimage to Prayer” is unreservedly recommended reading for all members of the Christian community regardless of their denominational affiliation.

Short Trip to the Edge: A Pilgrimage to Prayer
Scott Cairns
Paraclete Press
PO Box 1568, Orleans, MA 02653
9781612617329, $16.99, PB, 256pp, www.amazon.com



Portrait of Chayo as Saint Jude Thaddeus

by Susan Miller
Look for her upcoming book Communion of Saints from Paraclete Press

I never set out to write a book about the saints. I was a Catholic convert at 37, after a long struggle with discernment which began in my early twenties. I had never been baptised, never belonged to groups, religious or otherwise—even my friends often didn’t know each other. Over the years it seemed more and more important to be part of something bigger, and the Catholic church, as I grew to understand it, drew me in. I traveled a fair amount—to Mexico, India, the Czech Republic, and then in a period of very few years, to Canada, Peru, Spain, Morocco, and repeatedly, back to Mexico, sometimes several times a year. I usually began and ended my travels in Mexico City, the Districto Federal, which its citizens refer to as D.F.

I usually stayed with friends there, and these friends had a remarkable cook named Chayo. During my first visit, when I was 28, Chayo was introduced to me by Clementina, the matriarch of the family. She told me that Chayo had given her own kidney to her son when he was in dire medical condition. When I met her, Chayo was a little reserved, but soon she opened up, usually with some surprising statement out of nowhere. When I was growing up, I was taught that only criminals get tattoos, but I thought for a long time about getting a stem of flowers right here behind my ear. Or Ugh. That picture of me is terrible. Give it to the robbers. She’d tell me horrific cautionary stories about babies who got their toes chewed by rats in the slums of Mexico City, or she could repeat a gruesome joke about the earthquake, its punchline a phrase from a children’s song: A hand here, a foot there…

I can feel already that I’m giving you some of the wrong details. Her toughness was real, but she wasn’t hardened—Chayo radiated gratitude. She was always singing, with the radio, by herself, sweeping up the living room. She wasn’t just cheerful; she seemedMexican Lunch deeply contented. It surprised me when she admitted that, as a girl, she had been very talented at drawing and drafting and had wanted to be an architect. Instead, she had chosen a life of work in the homes of wealthier people. She never appeared dissatisfied or regretful. She had to work hard, coming to work from the North on the bus in the early morning chill, wrapped in a crocheted shawl, cooking and cleaning before most people had woken up.   She was good at her job, proud of her food, loved and respected by the people she worked for, and she always made time to teach me how to make one thing or another. And she shared with me her devotion to Saint Jude Thaddeus, who had helped her when her son’s health was failing.

One day, near the end of my trip, Clementina announced that Chayo was to take the day off from cooking and spend it with me at the Basilica of the Virgin of Guadalupe. She navigated our trip to the North of the city by communal van, subway, and a brief walk through one of the city markets that springs up at every corner in D.F. She told me that I’d recognize the Basilica from a distance: it’s the one that looks like a big stupid circus tent, she said. She was right—it wasn’t exactly an architectural triumph—but we rode the conveyer belt under the miraculous tilma of Juan Diego together, and visited the old cathedral, now sinking into the ground and filled with ex voto paintings by cured postulants. It seemed silly, though somehow quaint, to get a photo taken on a donkey, as people were doing on the hillside leading up to the smallest chapel. We walked up the hill to that chapel, and there both Chayo and I stopped to pray.

Praying can be such a private thing—and for each of us, it was—but somehow, I felt that the barriers between us, of language, nationality, religious upbringing, had somehow softened a little—that Chayo recognized in me the rootless quality that made some kind of home so important to me, and that I understood more about her solitary experience of belief. I don’t know if that day affected her feelings about me, but by the end of the trip, she was referring to me as her “American daughter.” It took another decade before I committed to my conversion, but I have always remembered her own example of faith as a model for me.

It was only later that I started to think of Chayo as a version of her favorite saint: the patron saint of impossible causes.

Portrait of Chayo as Saint Jude Thaddeus

In a green apron, Chayo stirs chayote soup,
holding her palm taut so she can daub a taste there

to check the salt. Her skin doesn’t feel the heat
though if I try the same I blister myself. She sings

while she chops chives into tiny rings
that float on the surface of the liquid.

When Clementina first told me about her, she taught me
in Spanish riñones, kidneys, because Chayo gave one

to her son, who almost died when his failed.
In Mexico City she pinned a bean-shaped charm

to the skirt of a statue. Priests, I dont talk to much,
she says, but San Judas Tadeo, him I trust.

 I prayed to him to intercede, to heal my son. She lifts a copper bowl
down from the cabinet and hugs it

against her chest with both arms. Now he works
as an engineer, and lives with his girlfriend. She sets the bowl

on the counter, lifts a stack of plates onto
the wheeled cart she uses to set the table.

She wraps warm tortillas in a cloth, spoons salsa
into a shallow dish, fills the serving bowl

with pale green soup I watched her form
from three chayotes, a potato, and bouillon.

Above her the stove-light burns in its hood,
illuminating each loose strand of hair on her head.

Nothing, she tells me, is a lost cause. This soup,
for example. If you cook it too long, add water and Norsuiza.

 If green beans turn dark, a little baking soda keeps them bright.
She smoothes her hair and straightens her apron,

ready to serve. And if you use a pressure cooker
for frijoles, theyll be perfect inside of half an hour.

This poem was originally published in Collective Brightness: LGBTIQ Poets on Faith, Religion, and Spirituality, edited by Kevin Simmonds (Sibling Rivalry Press).

Mary and Martha in Chicago

By Sunset Septuagint

Have you seen the painting “The Scream”? I am currently on a trip to Chicago which began by travel on a full airplane which was late in landing. On arrival everyone immediately stood up, jamming the aisles while the passengers who had close connecting flights were fighting to get through to the front… What mayhem! Too bad there was no announcement for those not in a hurry to wait until the others got off.

Then I got in line to get a taxi…..there was a break in the barricade so wheelchairs could get through but behind the wheelchair others were cramming forward to get to the head of the line. Others ran to the end of the line behind the people waiting so they could hop into the cabs first without having to wait in line.

I am a very impatient person myself but this time I had no deadline so I started a conversation with a woman beside me in line and wound up telling her I was in Chicago for a doctor’s appointment. She asked the name of the doctor and when I told her, she said her father had the same surgeon and she told me how wonderful he was! Suddenly a weight of anxiety was miraculously lifted from my shoulders.

I thought of the Mary/Martha sermon last Sunday in church. It wasn’t the work that Martha was doing that was the problem but her anxiety and worry. By the grace of God alone for that moment in the taxi line, I was able to choose the better part to have a friendly chat with another person, and Jesus used the conversation with that woman to calm my fears!

Engraving by Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeld

Engraving by Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeld

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