The Christmas season, for me, always seems to accentuate a deeper sensitivity and awareness to things spiritual. This is as it should be. Something should come of the music, the decorations, the prayers, and the contemplation of the sacred occasion of the birth of Jesus Christ. For me, however, it is a rather quiet and private experience; if I do not find that time or space and allow for a response to it, I am disappointed. The externals of the season should not eclipse the internals that should be and can be stimulated by it.
Yesterday my wife and I attended a funeral for a friend. It added to the sacredness of the season. All components of the funeral were designed to remember the life of a good woman and how her life fit into the moment we have been given to experience mortality in life’s ongoing drama. We were reminded of things we should learn and never forget. Every life has a purpose and has value and it doesn’t end with the funeral—either for the one who passes on to the next stage or for those who are temporarily left behind. I love attending funerals. I’m sure I will attend my own.
Last evening we attended a Christmas concert of vocal music. It, too, reminded us of things sacred and accentuated the spirituality of the occasion celebrated. The virtuosity of the performers , the setting in the nave of a chapel, the deportment of the attendees, the selection and composition of the music rendered all contributed to our experience and the richness of the season.
Strangely enough, I used to not like Christmas because of the pressure of people and ‘presents’—buying them and observing how they were often received. Now I look forward to Christmas because of ‘presence,’ the presence of great things spiritual, just below the surface, that can be enjoyed by all who have “eyes to see, and ears to hear, and hearts that know and understand.”
Have a Merry Christmas. Have a Sacred Christmas. Both are good, but I’ll take the latter.
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