The other evening was my “step” into Christmas- when I first find my feet in the middle of the wonderful transformation that occurs every year about this time. It happened when we stumbled across a Salvation Army brass band, complete with bell ringer and red kettle, in Belmont Park of all places- the creaking, clickity-clack of the old wooden rollercoaster off in the distance, alongside songs of joy and peace. Tuba, trombones, the whole bit. Christmas songs done in Reader's Digest style- short and sweet: a verse, a chorus and out. Twenty songs, in 40 minutes or so. A nice smorgasbord of the classics, if you ask me, with a delightful taste of each- unbothered by the goings on all around us. Every year I enjoy a nativity moment like this, when I first feel the magic of the season. Some years it’s a beautiful array of Christmas lights beaming across a clear, star-filled night. Other seasons it’s a smile exchanged across a busy mall, with a shopping-bag-toting fellow traveler and a small child or two in tow. For many years, it was John and Yoko's “So This is Christmas,” which is an entirely secular song, but which manages to communicate the uplifting best of what can be. And maybe that’s what this season is all about- recognizing what is possible. The joy and peace that dwell in us but that too often are nudged aside by harsher, real-world demands and realities. This time of year, goodwill seems to untether more easily into the everyday, to enchant us.
I’m aware that much of this “Christmas spirit” is grounded in nostalgia and commerce, and not connected to, you know, the birth of Jesus. For many years I did not even consider “the reason for the season,” as the billboards remind. It was just giving and receiving and a few much-needed days off from work. But even without Jesus at the center of the holiday, the world shifts for the better, and we with it. And that is worth celebrating. But of course, there is much more to Christmas. The birth of Jesus is why we live in hope. Christmas is an annual booster shot of the stuff, at the end of what is usually a long 12 months. Being hopeful can seem awfully naïve given what we see all around us, but Jesus gives us some pretty good ammunition for the fight. His life and death, and rebirth, point to something bigger and better, here and here-after. It’s the DNA at the center of everything. It's what we can see, and what we can’t. The invisible architecture of spinning atoms at our core. The flour and yeast that disappear into the bread we consume, which sustains us. A precious gem, hiding inside layers of black carbon rock, waiting for eons to be discovered and valued. A diamond is not the only thing that is forever. I hope we all can slow down enough to feel the spirit of Christmas this year, at least once or twice, and consider what it really means. It connects us to each other and to the eternal. It reminds us of what is possible, and lifts us with a hope that sustains our journey.
This is Matthew 1: “Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.”
God with us, then, and God is with us now. So, we celebrate the Manger and everything since, right up to this very moment. The song pairing is “Merry Christmas, Lift up Your Voices.” Until next time, stay safe, be brave and keep walking in the light. Merry Christmas.
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