A Collective Breath

Christmas Eve is here!  Complete with snow on the ground, making the White Christmas I sing about happily true this year.  The presents are wrapped with brightly colored paper, completed with sparkly shiny bows.  Cards expressing Christmas wishes to all are nearly ready to be given (my theory is that as long as they go out before the New Year it’s all good).  Soon, the house will be filled with the smell of Christmas Eve chili, lemon pie and a mixture of other goodies; complimented by the sounds of children, friends and family. 

The special time of Christmas is not something that is made up of all these wonderful things, though these are exceptionally lovely things to include.  It is a yearly instance where the world seems to take a collective breath and inhale the sweet newness of an infant in a manger; the feeling we get when we hold a tiny new life that is only minutes, days or weeks old.  Thrust into our arms, the baby’s weight is slight, but it fills us with the weight of love and responsibility. 

The pause of peace that occurs around this time of year is reflected in traditions, spontaneous declarations and heartbreakingly wistful wants of peace throughout history and the world.  The town of Turku, Finland, has declared a Christmas peace since the Middle Ages.  The holly and mistletoe, respectively the kissing plant and the plant of peace, are reminiscent of the kiss of peace monarchs would give and receive from their nobles.  The old history of many carols can be traced to the need of peace that only this new life a baby could bring.  In much more modern history, a desire for peace came out again in the Civil War, even amidst Christmas day skirmishes.  The soldiers’ hearts craved that peace should be the order of the day and reflected it in their letters and songs.  After the capture of Savannah, some northern soldiers delivered several wagons full of food and other supplies to the people who were caught in a land desolated by a bitter war.  In World War I, an impromptu peace broke out in several places as men in opposing trenches exchanged songs, a few gifts, and rallied their impromptu football (a.k.a soccer) teams with cheering, ringing foreign sounds of peace through no-man’s-land.  Much more recent is in war-torn Nigeria; a few Muslim and Christian neighbors have declared this very Christmas a time of peace to celebrate together. 

Beyond the kindness to strangers we many witness at this time, these days have a convention of people drawing in a breath and catching in a singular air of the divine.  I think it is more than just sweet traditions and customs that has brought about these singular moments that we know of, and the thousands we do not know of.  I think it is the celebration of an earthly birth of a heavenly king.  The peace our minds and bodies crave catch a whisper from the spirit, quiet amongst the sounds of wrapping, caroling, sledding, shopping, visiting, and cooking; barely heard and yet keenly felt.  It is the whisper that offers peace, the peace of the spirit.  The peace we have so long wanted is rested in our arms as a new born baby, Jesus.  The emptiness in the longing is filled with the hope of peace.  But, I think that it is not just the baby that impacts in such a tremendous way, it is the man as well.  The man that died for us, died for us out of love and returned to us out of love, to offer peace. 

In the hectic moments the next few days presents, I wish you a merry and peace filled Christmas.  That you will draw in a breath and catch a faint hint of the smell of a new baby in a manger, of a man on a cross, of the promise of peace in love. 

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
 I heard the bells on Christmas day
 Their old familiar carols play,
 And wild and sweet the words repeat
 Of peace on earth, good will to men.

 I thought how, as the day had come,
 The belfries of all Christendom
 Had rolled along th'unbroken song
 Of peace on earth, good will to men.

 And in despair I bowed my head:
 'There is no peace on earth,' I said
 'For hate is strong, and mocks the song
 Of peace on earth, good will to men.'

 Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
 'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
 The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
 With peace on earth, good will to men.'

Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

   

  

Sleeping In

This morning, I woke up with my alarm and then turned it off. Like normal, I slumped back onto the bed and under the covers. Oh pillow, I don’t want to leave you! Waking up nearly 45 minutes later, I realized that I hadn’t left my pillow, I had fallen back asleep. Scrambling to get dressed, do my hair and make-up, I grabbed a banana and stuffed it in my purse.

Life falls into routines, times to get up and times to go to sleep. My body gets used to a certain cycle of time for rest, activity, work, family and when these are mixed up it can be rather disconcerting for the rest of the day.
There are cycles in life as well, and as we move from one to another they can be disconcerting for us then as well. The words of Ecclesiastes 1 are familiar to many, especially from the song Turn Turn Turn by the Byrds.

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:
A time to be born and a time to die,
A time to plant and a time to uproot,
A time to kill and a time to heal,
A time to tear down and a time to build,
A time to weep and a time to laugh,
A time to mourn and a time to dance,
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
A time to embrace and a time to refrain,
A time to search and a time to give up,
A time to keep and a time to throw away,
A time to tear and a time to mend,
A time to be silent and a time to speak,
A time to love and a time to hate,
A time for war and a time for peace.”

I would imagine that you, like me, can think of times that have been for each one of these. I think of birth and dying moments, being uprooted during moves, and planted into new homes. I think of times when I have needed to tear down walls and other times when I needed to have the protection of a high hedge. Weeping and mourning, laughter and dancing, those have also been experienced. Sometimes though, it has been laughing with weeping and mourning with dancing. Stones of judgment have needed scattered, stones of remembrance have needed gathered. Embracing new adventures, new tasks and challenges can be wonderful but at other times I have needed to pull back and regroup. Throwing away is a good thing in spring cleaning, rather for the house or for my life. But, the empty areas are refilled with God’s presence. To tear, to mend, to be silent and to speak, I think in my case though it might also be to sing. Though, there was a time last year that I was yelling at the trees in the backyard, well not so much at them as in there general direction. A time to be silent, to listen and a time to speak, to pray and petition, to confess and praise. A time to love and a time to hate, hating sin, hating what God hates. A time for war and a time for peace, to wage against our inadequacies and our ignorance, our prejudices and judgments.


Yes, those transitions can be quite disconcerting, like waking up late or being jolted suddenly in life.

Signs of Birth

Highway signs tell us which way to go, they point us to the right road, to take caution on tight turns, even duck crossing. There are other signs, like the signs an expectant mother goes through before birth like pains, growing pressures that can let her know the baby is soon to come.

Jesus provided sign posts to his disciples, cautions of the days that were coming. Jesus left the temple and warned them about the temple, “I tell you the truth, not one stone here will be left one another; everyone will be thrown down,” (Matthew 24:1-2). That news must have been very disturbing to hear. In a time of unrest, with Rome increasingly brining pressure to bear on the people, and now the Pharisees were leading a rebellious stance from another side.

The disciples came to Jesus, they wanted to know what was going to happen. The unknown is a very frightening thing, especially when it is a frightening unknown. Jesus provides some caution signs, “Watch out for those who would deceive you, even when there are rumors of war and wars, nations rising against nations, kingdoms against kingdoms, famines and earthquakes.” The signs are like caution signs, but also are described as the beginning of birth pains. The pain and pressure were building.