You know, I got all teary-eyed hearing the CBC's narration of A Christmas Carol on the radio this year (not such a great thing to do when one is driving), but I can't shake the vague "Scrooginess" that I get every Christmas. Maybe it's because there's no snow. Maybe it's because Jesus was born in the summertime, and Saturnalia is really not a festival we should be appropriating. Maybe it's because I want to vomit any time I get near a mall for the whole month of December (and most of November). Maybe it's because every symbol that we hold dear at this sentimental time of year, really has nothing to do with the Magnificent, Terrible and Awesome Event that occurred. It has nothing to do with getting together with family (with +/- squabbling), eating way more than is necessary, gift-giving, beautiful trees (though I do like them very very much), big fat elves, rampant consumerism and debt, running around trying to 'see' everybody that you're supposed to over the holidays, drinking too much, too much chocolate, reindeer with sleighbells and red noses, roasted chestnuts, and the whole sentimentality of going 'home for the holidays'.... The Holy Family were actually homeless shortly after they came together....
How did all this mess that we call Christmas come from a dirty, smelly manger of an apparent bastard, refugee child, born in manure, surrounded by illiterate shepherds and foreign, non-Jewish religious men, yet having the heavens singing and dancing for joy for the Saviour had been born? How did we become so syncretistic?
Certainly, I LOVE Christmas trees, and I quite like chocolate, and wine, for that matter (and eating, and parties, and the cocooning we do this time of year). But I wonder: Why do I run like mad, trying to achieve I'm-not-entirely-sure-what, when really, I miss Advent entirely year after year, and the Event that makes the season is -almost- (note I say almost, not is) secondary to the rest? Why do I not fall down and worship in the manure and the hay, and say, The Anointed One, The Ancient of Days, YHWH Himself has brought Himself here, and lament and love the fact that He has chosen to lie, squalling in a feedpen, as wretched as we? Isn't that what Christmas is all about?
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2 comments:
Merry Christmas Charlie Brown! :)
Christmas always sneaks up so quickly, it seems like there's less and less time to prepare one's heart for the remembrance of the Advent every year (even though it's not the real anniversary). I don't know what to suggest, I think lots of people feel the same way as you do.
What wakes me up sometimes are some of the Christmas hymns, which can be quite powerful. When I was a kid, I didn't grasp the beauty of some of the lyrics. "Pleased as man with man to dwell. Jesus, our Emmanuel." and "Mild He lays His Glory by. Born that man no more may die. Born to raise the sons of Earth. Born to give them second birth." I don't know if they had any music on CBC surrounding the narration you heard, but I too have found that when something cuts to the heart, I find I wish I was really more worshipful.
bah, humbug! Christmas has nothing to do with a special season of generosity! and even less to do with festive meals. Julia, you're right -- Advent must not be lost amid the Dickensian imagery. Call me a Scrooge, or a Grinch. phooey to Dickens, frantic coercion to consume in order to give. the stable stinks, the hay is itchy, the animals filthy and noisy. political mayhem, the shame of a pre-wedding pregnancy and imminent homelessness... that's what announced the Birth.
be impatient for 'home'. be frustrated. but be released, because... the Child is born! the King returns! :)
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