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Thoughts on the End and the Beginning
Christmas has always had its ugly stepbrother, Xmas. C.S. Lewis in 1954 wrote a witty and biting essay about the difference between Christmas and "Exmas". The former is a time of a spiritual regeneration, while the latter Exmas is a carnival of hype and phoniness. Like Lewis' imaginary Exmas revelers, we in the Euro-American West usually find ourselves exhausted by the yearly mania, but each year we look forward to it again. Overall, it's a great deal of hullabaloo, but for me, it's a celebration of birth and death, as well as of light and darkness. Despite all discussion to the contrary, Christmas is fundamentally about the birth of Jesus. Of course, during the same time period, there is the celebration of Chanukah as well, and of Winter Solstice. There is also the newcomer Kwanzaa, which is dedicated to "reassessment, reclaiming, recommitment, remembrance, retrieval, resumption, resurrection, and rejuvenation" according to a Kwanzaa website. Light and new light are themes, in one way or another, of all of these celebrations. A child is born, bringing light and hope to a dark wintry world, and at the same time (at least on the Western calendar) the year is ending. All of those hopes and dreams of last Christmas are either fulfilled or to be forgotten. We have either done what we hoped we would do, or we didn't. So, for me, Christmas is a great time of beauty and poignancy. I don't much give much thought to the Xmas Rush. It is a season where, as the preceding months melt away, I am given a moment to consider what has happened to me over that time. I am surrounded by beautiful lights and beautiful music, and I make contact with friends I have not seen or heard from in a long time. I like the idea that everyone is lighting candles or menorahs, casting away the winter's darkness. I like the sentimental movies and the Holiday Hit songs. Growing up in Arizona, I have no memories of a White Christmas. For me Christmas is a tree (maybe green plastic) draped in shiny garlands and glass ornaments. I remember one of my favorites as a child was a blue glass bulb with the beginning verse of "Silent Night" embossed on it in snow-covered letters. I would put the bulb close to my eye, and the world would turn soft blue. I liked the words that I read on it. Those words gave me a feeling then, as they do now, of the whole world taking a quiet deep breath, and looking up into a starry night sky. I remember some Christmas Days and some of my gifts, and I remember bits and pieces like my candy-cane-striped pajamas with the feet in them. I remember getting an Erector Set one year, and a Space Rocket Launcher that fired a spring-loaded missile into the air. I do not remember any noisy parties. I recall cold bright days, but no snow. Holiday festivity is usually tied in my mind to the commercial, with my memories of department store decorations. Sleigh-bells and such are only lyrics in songs for me. By the way, does anyone go caroling from house to house anymore? Once, when I was visiting in Minnesota, I actually did go caroling with my wife, my in-laws and their kids. They live in Adams, a small farming town, and so people there know each other and it is still a custom to go from place to place singing songs. We walked to the home of the parish priest, and sang a few carols for him. Then we sang at the homes of some families that lived within walking distance. It was snowing and very cold. Then we went to a senior care home and sang a few carols to the folks there. Some of them were faraway into their own private worlds. Some were hooked up to oxygen tanks. Others were bedridden. Most of the people there smiled, and listened. One man we sang to looked up at us from his bed and thanked us when we were done. Another man just sat in an armchair, staring into the air. That man died a few days later. After caroling that night, we walked home through the snow, and had hot chocolate and cookies. When I heard about that man's passing a few days later, I was struck by the thought that it had been his last Christmas on earth, and I had been part of it. That made me glad to have been there with him, if only for a few songs. That is how I prefer to celebrate the holidays. I want to have some moments during that time to do something that includes others in some way. I go to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve not because I am a good Catholic, but because it is in my personal history to do so. Having been raised Catholic, I have been to Mass on Christmas many times. I go now to join together with a group of strangers in a mutual remembrance and celebration. I enjoy the always hopeful, and sometimes poignant, moments that come in a Mass. People who are sick, or dead, or hurting in some way are remembered, but always there comes the story of the birth of a Savior. There is always an upside to life, according to Christmas. It has become my personal tradition to listen on Christmas night to my well-worn cassette tape of Dylan Thomas reading his short story "A Child's Christmas in Wales." More than the "Nutcracker" (or Dickens), I love hearing his rich, deep Welsh voice tell of a boy's adventures in his hometown, and among his family and friends. Despite the fact that the piece begins "One Christmas was so much like another…" I feel that no Christmas is like any other. Each person's experience is unique. So much has changed since last year! That is because the season is also about death. The past moves away from us with the last page of last-year's calendar. There are no more bubbling gaslights for Dylan Thomas - both have gone away. For myself as well, there are so many years passed by, so many Christmases, that I can't remember every one. My memories may be lacking, and my holiday activities few, but I perceive everything about the season in the light of the perception of all those other times and places. The holiday season is a time of transition and renewal, even for those who hate the holidays and would prefer to ignore the whole thing altogether. It is the one time in the year when nearly everyone is thinking of someone else. School is ended. Work has ground to a halt. The airlines are filled with travelers rushing somewhere to be with family and friends. The earth has circled the sun one more time, and will begin a new journey. We all need a time where we can take a deep breath and celebrate what we've gained and what we've lost. It really doesn't matter when or how one commemorates this transition and rejuvenation, it's just important that one does. I look forward to each Christmas because of all my Christmases past. It reminds me that there will always be birth and death and change, and that each day is a gift, and that each person's life is also a gift. In the season of dying sunlight, there is a moment when, like the story of the menorah, the oil that is nearly gone is miraculously renewed. I remember the song lyric that says "it's a miracle to be anything at all!" Indeed it is. Stephen Michael Barnes |