Christmas lights have sprouted up on houses all over the neighborhood. Except ours. Our strand of large, old-fashioned bulbs spent three neglected years trimming our eaves until thoroughly bleached and faded by the sun. I was finally shamed into taking them down. Now, I am trying to convince the rest of the family that our not having lights provides needed contrast for the twinkling homes around us. After all, if every house had lights, what would be the novelty in that? I am not winning the argument.
The Christmas concert we attended last weekend opened with "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence". The Vanguard University choir filed in through the doors of St. Andrew's Presbyterian church holding candles and sang the ancient chant a cappella, including these lines:
Spreads its vanguard on the way,
As the Light of light descendeth
From the realms of endless day,
That the powers of hell may vanish
As the darkness clears away.
The coming of Jesus that we remember each December is about light breaking into darkness. And yet, somewhere between the daylight savings time change and early December, I notice a creeping spiritual and emotional lethargy. Part of it I attribute to S.A.D., something I scoffed at until I had enough time trials to observe the trend in myself. In December, I am leaving for work in the dark, coming home in the dark, and spending most of my day in a cubicle far from a window. The extra daylight hours I productively enjoyed during the summer have gone. In our highly-regulated society, we expect trains, planes, and emotions to run according to our schedule. But, they don't. Therefore, we find treatments. Yet, I wonder if this seasonal response of my body and mind to the dark is not really the best preparation for the Savior. I understand that the time of year we celebrate Christmas is a result of melding the church calendar with pagan practice and that Christians in the southern hemisphere are getting Christmas suntans. But, I am who and where Providence has placed me, feeling the darkening winter days and looking for the Star that will break through once again.
P.S. - I recommend the Fernando Ortega rendition of "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence" as an addition to your Christmas music library.
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