Sunday, December 26, 2010

Twelve Days and a White Christmas





The end of 2010 brought us a lovely surprise in the form of over three inches of snow in our back garden. Living near the South Carolina/North Carolina border means we get more of the North Carolina weather than our neighbors at church and my work get. It's lovely this second day of Christmas morning. Though there are some cars on the highway, for the most part, it's quiet and white blankets the landscape.

Of course, we Western and European Christians have this concept that Mary and Joseph traveled through the dead of winter to Bethlehem; that snow lay on the ground as the beautiful hymn, "Venite Adoramus" claims, and that the infant child though possibly cold in his meagre stable cradle, had a mother and father who tenderly took care of his needs while shepherds and angels called on the new family. This rather romantic view of the Incarnation gives us comfort in our own hardships, but perhaps it also helps us to render the struggles we face in life as unrelated to what God intended them to be. After all, it was a "silent night, holy night," and most of us don't think of our pain and struggles as holy.

Perhaps if we take a look at what the Catechism says about this wonderful birth, we can make the connection to Jesus a little more visceral, a little more profound. Jesus is an "in your face" kind of guy. The life he lived was for our benefit and example. Brother Gregory, OCSO, a monk at Mepkin Abbey, sent me this quote for Christmas and New Year's. "Go see in the arms of the Virgin, God became one of us, so that we might live his life." Living the Christ life is what being a Christian should be all about. We study the life of Jesus in the Scripture and other holy writings; we commune with Jesus in the Sacraments, and through prayer and contemplation, we look at the Lord of Life with adoration and with resolution. In the arms of the Virgin is our life. In the arms of the Virgin is our answer of how to walk day by day. In the arms of a Virgin is Love sent down at Christmas.

For me, it is critically important to keep all twelve days of Christmas. Doing so is certainly counter-cultural, and yet, it's what I need to remind myself that it's not about our packing up the decorations before New Year's day, or returning to work after a generous winter break, or once again becoming obsessed with our struggles and pain laid aside for a moment to remember the baby in the manger. Like the reformed Scrooge, keeping Christmas in my heart all year is vital because it means I will live the life that Jesus lived. I will love and pray, speak the truth, touch those in need, and ultimately die and rise in glory. Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote about this idea in the following poem:
Moonless darkness stands between.
Past, the Past, no more be seen!
But the Bethlehem-star may lead me
To the sight of Him Who freed me
From the self that I have been.
Make me pure, Lord: Thou art holy;
Make me meek, Lord: Thou wert lowly;
Now beginning, and alway:
Now begin, on Christmas day.
Hopkins gives God credit from freeing us from ourselves by giving us the opportunity to be Christlike. Being Christlike means living as Jesus lived. May God help us all to be about doing God's business: feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and visiting those in prison, with grace and compassion, the grace and compassion shown by our Lord as we, too, live the Christ life.

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