Either I’m a little behind or Christmas came earlier this year. Does that ring a bell, so to speak? I know for a fact that Christmas came earlier in the form of the amount and timing of advertising necessary to try and jump-start us into spending, and therefore, get the economy going. But what I’m really saying is that I have my list, and not everything is checked off. Now I know that that sounds familiar! And so we bring with us tonight that little edge of anxiety which might belie that which we’ll sing later, “Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright”—just that little edge of anxiety that not everything is checked off our lists.
Perhaps I need to remember “the reason for the season” and put everything else in perspective. All of us put an incredible amount of energy getting our Christmas trees up and decorated. And while I got our tree the day after Thanksgiving dutifully from Troop 20, three days ago it was largely untouched. And yet Christmas trees in their modern form were only invented in the 19th Century because Queen Victoria was betrothed and then fell in love with her German cousin Albert and Victorian England imported the German customs, largely pagan in their original form, that now grace our 21st Century notions of what Christmas is supposed to look like.
And then there are the gifts. Gift giving was originally associated with Epiphany, twelve days after Christmas in honor of the Magi who brought gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh to the Christ Child. In many Hispanic cultures Epiphany still serves as the gift-giving holy day which would probably warm the hearts of retailers in this country if it were to catch on. Imagine twelve more days to shop until you drop! Now I love buying and receiving gifts, but it’s a relatively new part of Christmas if we’re counting backward by centuries to the First Christmas.
Back in the 13th Century, St. Francis invented the recreation of the manger scene when he decided he “would like to portray the Child born in Bethlehem, to see the hardships a newborn babe must endure, how he was placed in a manger and how he lay in the straw between the ox and the ass.” And so on Christmas Eve, 1223 A.D.,
A group of barefoot monks led a merrily singing throng of local residents…to Greccio, a simple monastery that was little more than a few interconnecting caves. In one of these, a layer of straw had been spread on the stone and beaten earth floor and a primitive crib had been placed in a corner. Around it were a donkey, an ox, and a dozen peasants Francis had “borrowed” from the feudal lord. All night long, a procession of villagers braved cold and snow to see the unique tableau, their torches illuminating the night. [Kristin Jarratt]
If you’ve ever been to Assisi, one of Giotto’s frescoes depicting the life of St. Francis shows that manger in Greccio, the first artistic depiction of what would become a staple of art for ever after. And while our recreation of the manger scene at the Christmas Pageant last Sunday went off without a hitch, I’ve been very worried about having the requisite figures on this front crèche since my 4:00 p.m. children’s homily depended on the accuracy of actually having those figures there. “Aren’t we missing someone or an animal, and where’s the angel?” Thank God the Altar Guild was more relaxed and patient than I was!
Working our way back from the 19th to the 13th Centuries through the Middle Ages to the Early Church, there is very little if any evidence of those customs of Christmas that so distract us today. In fact, the date of Christmas itself was not determined until the 4th Century A.D., some 300+ years after whatever had happened in Bethlehem. The Bible remains silent on the actual day or season of Christ’s birth, although “shepherds abiding in their fields” suggests a warmer time of the year than late December. Nonetheless, December 25 seems to have gained popularity for celebrating the anniversary of Christ’s birth as an alternative to Saturnalia and other pagan festivals celebrating the lengthening of daylight after winter’s “shortest” day, December 21.
Quite frankly, it never occurred to the Early Church to celebrate the birth of Christ, and what we know about how and when the Bible was written concludes that the stories in Luke and Matthew were something of an afterthought. Mark and John’s gospels have no specific mention of Christ’s birth, save John’s sweeping declaration, “The Word was made flesh and dwelled among us.”
The Rector, you may be thinking by now, is getting awfully close to “Bah! Humbug!” But not true, because the “reason for the season” has recaptured my heart and I am content in the knowledge of God’s love revealed in the birth of a child.
That birth is described by both Matthew and Luke as miraculous. And if we are to have any sympathy at all for the role of Joseph and Mary, it would have to include the fact that life in 1st Century A.D. was also filled with its distractions and its discomforts. It was an unsettled time, just as this 21st Century is an unsettled time, whether politically or economically, or socially. There was the anxiousness of a journey to Bethlehem while Mary was pregnant and the inhospitable reception they received when finally arriving. And yet, I have to believe that Joseph and Mary understood deep in their hearts “the reason for the season,” that something momentous was happening through their faithfulness, and at the end of the day they too were content in the knowledge of God’s love revealed in the birth of a child.
And so let me ask you to join me in putting the lists aside at the least for these few moments in church, taking a deep breath to lower the level of rush and inner turmoil that all of us to some degree bring with us. Join me in putting all our preparations for Christmas in perspective and finding that contentment of spirit that is truly at the heart of it all. Let’s create some space in our souls to ponder as Mary did the import of Jesus’ birth and to thank God for every instance of grace we might receive in that exercise of peace and goodwill.
At its heart, Christmas is more poetic than prose, more intuitive than observably or analytically perceived. Christmas has to do with that much-overworked word we bandy about, spiritual. The real meaning of Christmas has something to do with our prayers, the confidence we have that God hears our prayers, that God answers our prayers.
A wonderful poet I’ve discovered through the Christmas card of a friend is U. A. Fanthrope. She writes this:
There should be law against confusing
religion with mathematics.
There was a baby. Born where?
And when? The sources mention
Massacres, prophesies, stars;
They tell a good story, but they don’t agree.
So we celebrate at the wrong midnight.
Does it matter? Only (dull) science expects an accurate audit.
The economy of heaven looks for fiestas and fireworks every day,
Every day.
Be realistic, says heaven:
Expect a miracle.
And then another poet and an old favorite, e.e. cummings, captures the Christmas spirit when he wrote
i am a little church (no great cathedral)
around me surges a miracle
of unceasing birth and glory
and death and resurrection.
i am a little church (far from the frantic world with its rapture and anguish)
at peace with nature.
i lift my diminutive spire
to merciful Him Who’s
only now is forever
standing erect in the
deathless truth of his presence.
And, finally, England’s poet laureate John Betjeman asks,
And is it true? And is it true,
This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass window’s hue,
A Baby in an ox’s stall?
The Maker of the stars and sea
Become a Child on earth for me?
And is it true? For if it is,
No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant,
No love that in a family dwells,
No caroling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare—
That God was Man in Palestine
And lives to-day in Bread and Wine.
Poetry. Music. Prayer, Art. These are the means by which we can make sense of what Madeleine L’Engle describes as the “Glorious Impossible.” These still my soul and are the antidote to all that would unnerve me, to all that would fuel my doubts and my fears. Jesus, the Prince of Peace, is born. And so in the words of an Irish Blessing:
The light of the Christmas star to you
The warmth of home and hearth to you
The cheer and good will of friends to you
The hope of a childlike heart to you
The joy of a thousand angels to you
The love of the Son and God’s peace to you
—An Irish Christmas Blessing
