Im laying out of church tonight because of rampant flu, but Im having church in my head. What I will miss most about being there is singing Angels We Have Heard On High with the big Christmas Eve crowd and Silent Night in the darkness with everyone holding their small candles. Oh, those two songs! The huge trippy chorus with in-egg-shell-seas-day-ose and the simple lullaby harmonies, tender-and-mild. So which is Christmas? I say both. Through a simple birth in the most unlikely of circumstances, God places that small candle not just in our hands but inside every one of us. Thats the trippy part. Thats the so awesome that part of it has to be in Latin part. Every. One. Of. Us. Baby Jesus is an image of vulnerability. Each of us is born into and of vulnerability, too. Its ironic that Santa has become the dominant image of Christmas. Its so much easier to tell a child that whatever you want is a jolly chat away than to be prepared for when that childs heart is broken, when her health is challenged or when his dream simply doesnt come true. To be a caring witness we have to experience our own vulnerability. Painful and difficult as that kind of wordless love may be, it IS what connects us as humans. Christmas Eve is a story of vulnerability. We get to be Mary, trusting the angel who said fear not. We get to be Joseph, who released his fear and shame because he understood his purpose. We get to peek inside the manger, humming the lullaby about heavenly peace, even though we know what lies ahead for that innocent babe. And thats when we need our candle. Every time we choose to fear not, our candle glows. We lean down in the pew to light the candle of the eager child next to us or we pass the light to the person we love most in the world or to a total stranger. Whether we are in church or not. Its trippy alright. Deep peace, yall.
Posted on: Wed, 24 Dec 2014 23:09:12 +0000
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