Sunny and Seventy

If the days and weeks seem to flash by – and Friday arrives before I realize Tuesday is past -- this year has flown by, too – a common complaint from we autumnal gardeners. Now aflame with color, the oak tree across the street daily concurs: 2012 is almost gone – and a new year is coming. Christmas lights, which started appearing the weekend before Thanksgiving, underscore the reality.  The horse-drawn carriages also are back —bringing the sound of sleigh bells and plodding horses.  And again, the season’s luscious music surrounds me.  The magical melancholy of Christmas is here!

The sights and sounds of the Holidays have arrived, but summer 2012 lingers.  And with such moderate temperatures, the prospect looms of another outbreak of West Nile virus carrying mosquitoes for the summer of 2013.  Ho- Ho- Ho. Sunny and seventy makes for an interesting forecast as the holidays speed along!

So, the sights and sounds, if not the temperature, spur me on. We put up a live wreath, duly illuminated with strands of battery-operated tiny lights.  And I have high hopes again for completing the Christmas cards, and getting them in the mail before mid-January. Some years I make it, some I don’t. 

Selecting a proper card – not too schmaltzy, preachy, or vapid – took some time.  I avoided selecting any cards with angels.  Studying Revelation this fall, I learned what Hallmark represents these creatures to be are not like the real ones John met!  They were neither roly-poly cute bundles nor serene and pristine beings. They are terrifying!  And their message is blunt: Woe to the world that rejects still its Creator and Lord! 

Not the jolliest of greetings, huh? That would give a boost to the “take the Christ out of Christmas” crew!

Seventy and sunny may not feel seasonal – and I may not be ready to close out another year of life, but, for Christians, Advent -- four weeks before  December 25 --  is the beginning of a new year on the church calendar.   This preparation time before Christmas  remind the church that Christ has come and is coming again.  Whatever others are celebrating, it’s a time for us to ponder the symbols of  His first coming, Christmas, which are either repressed or ignored:

·      a virgin-birth in a humble stable, 

·      angels that announce to shepherds God’s purpose in coming to earth, and

·      a star which guides wise men to His presence.  

If “Christmas is understanding what God has done for me in Christ,” (to quote a friend), it’s the time when former prisoners can explain to those still bound up what it feels like to be free – and invite them to join us. (Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir)

Others might play the Grinch and try to steal the symbols of  Christmas’ joy – so what? Now is the time for our taking our own personal inventory and preparing, not for Christ’s birth but His return.  

Check your  oil supply now – batteries may not be available  when you need light the most. ( Matthew 25:1-13) It’s time to be ready for His return – the one He commanded that John share with the church.  (Revelation 1:3 )

Other humble thoughts on the Holidays:

Lights Keeping the Blues Away

Christmas Lights

O Little Town of Bethlehem

Christmas Carols --Musical Mallets

I disposed of the Christmas mantelpiece arrangement tonight, leaving the three wooden kings and the angel out until Epiphany: three days hence. But I am still listening to Christmas music.Our cable provider offers more than a dozen music channels – and the one that has been of great comfort this holiday plays Christmas carols and secular music – from the Hallelujah Chorus to Spike Lee singing “All I want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth.” I have listened to it for three weeks and counting.

When the news got too grim, or, other programing too mind-numbing, I found classic carols, new ones, and quiet jazz arrangements of this glorious music comforting. How much greater their comfort as this holiday season closes – it’s as if I am sitting with old friends reminiscing how great the party was we just threw.

Those carols untangle the strands of memories – threads that hold glimpses of grief and joy firmly in place for months and years unravel when certain notes sound – and I am cast back to the times I first heard them. For example, with the first quiet notes of “Silent Night” I am in the choir stall one midnight Christmas Eve service; I look out and see the mother of my friend and fellow junior member. She is fighting back tears; her eldest daughter has given birth to a little girl, Annie, a child born with profound disabilities. At twelve I do not understand how a new born Child of whom we sing will help them.

For melodies that are so familiar, I am sorry to admit how poorly I understood what the Christmas carols were saying – thrilling to their poetry and music – but at a loss understanding what their message had to do with me.

Maybe that’s why Christmas is as much a time of sadness as it is gaiety? We see and hear joyful sounds, but have no joy. We eat glorious foods and are still hungry. Maybe that’s why the Puritans banned “Christmas?”

As much as I complain about its excesses, though, I am glad the Puritans didn’t have the last word. The music of Christmas weaves its magic with memories and expectations of a time of year that seems brightest because the shadows are deepest. Though the carols’ theology may be incomplete, they are a goad – possibly some will keep the treasures of the music in their heart, and ponder, how can this little Child help me?

Verses stayed with me – going into my heart, musical mallets in the Holy Spirit’s determined hand –

How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of His heaven . . .
O holy Child of Bethlehem
Descend to us, we pray
Cast out our sin and enter in
Be born to us today . . .