Outside my window the snow is softly falling, adding to that generously given earlier in the week. Inside the Christmas tree lights glisten hopefully, its few under-tree presents aching to be opened. The nutcracker people smile, or is it frown, from the mantelpiece.
On a call the other day my sister Sandra asked "Does it feel like Christmas to you?" I'm not sure what I'm supposed to feel. Certainly, Christmas is a time of memories —thankfully, for me mostly good. We truly enjoyed Christmas with our kids, and still do from a distance. "Do you remember when ..." fill in the blank. Christmas in Beijing was a recent high point. Happy memories, tinged with the sadness of life gone by.
For me, besides the anamnesis of Christmases past, Advent is a hopeful reflection on the not yet. Dickens had it right. There's not much we can do about the years gone by, but the future is open, suggestive, and pregnant with possibilities. Much depends on my response to Christmas present. I am not a fan of the phrase "free will." It claims too much. My choices are constrained by my predisposition and character, by outward circumstances that I have no control over, and by a myriad of happenstances. Yet, within those constraints I can choose, and if not totally freely, then hopefully wisely.
In the Christmas story the young girl Mary faced the constraint of unchosen pregnancy. I can hardly imagine how devastated she must have felt. Yet, in the story she does not complain or throw a pity party. She acquiesces—nothing much to be done. But here's the wonder—she chooses to rejoice. Her song, the Magnificat, is still sung today. "My soul proclaims the greatness of God, my spirit rejoices in God my savior." In adversity Mary chose joy.
Christmas is canceled, reports the headline. It won't be the same this year. We did not choose the pandemic. We cannot choose to visit family and friends. But perhaps like Mary the pregnant teenager, in unchosen circumstances, we can choose to rejoice. We can choose to be thankful.
A joy-filled Christmas all!
+Ab. Andy