I’m not entirely sure what I’ve set out to write today. I’ve had lots of Christmas-y thoughts and feelings lately, though, and I hoped to express some of them.
I know Christmas is a hard time of year for many people: some are lonely, some are grieving, some are suffering. However, as I sit here listening to Christmas music I can’t help but feel…joy.
Of course, Christmas is an incredibly ritualized time of year, and psychological studies have shown that we human beings rely on nostalgia and rituals for comfort. If you’ve had a decent childhood, chances are that Christmas carries incredibly powerful good memories: scents, sounds, sights, feelings. And because childhood is a time of imagination where anything is possible, it’s hard to completely erase all those notes of magic even when you’ve long known Santa Claus doesn’t really bring you presents.
So there’s that, and that’s what I’ve enjoyed about Christmas most of my life: those powerful and happy bits of nostalgia floating in the air. Right now, though, the joy isn’t coming from Christmas cookies or the prospect of presents or the decorations being put up.
I’ve been thinking about the symbols of Christmas. I know lots of people will interpret where we get our traditions from and what they originally symbolized and all of that, but that’s not really what I am thinking of. The scriptures say all things testify of Christ, and that has been on my mind as I contemplate this holiday season.
First of all, I know the Savior wasn’t really born in December. But if we celebrate Easter in the spring–and with it, remember the Atonement and Resurrection of the Savior and the rebirth and new life it gives us–it seems fitting to me that we remember His birth in the winter, when life is cold, dark, and bleak. His birth brought hope, light, and love into a weary, cold, lost world.
So I listen to the lyrics of the sacred Christmas carols and I cry, touched by the messages of joy. I can’t help but be lifted up inside, my heart soaring. There is hope and love for each and every one of us, whatever our situation in life, however we may be grieving or whatever we have done.
I love the Christmas lights put up all over town–in and out of businesses, houses, apartment buildings. Whether or not people realize it, they are testifying of the birth of the Light of the World. Everywhere we have monuments to the light we have to pierce the darkness.
We give gifts to each other–reminiscent, I suppose, of the gifts the wise men gave the Christ child–but they also remind us of the gifts He gives us, those gifts which we can never repay.
What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a wise man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give him: give my heart.
Elinor
Marianne
I was at a funeral mass last week and the priest said something that really touched me. He said that even though the family was mourning a death, Christmastime is also about birth. It is about our Savior’s birth, but also individual re-birth, re-commitment, and resurrection, especially the hope of the resurrection of their loved one. Even a sorrowful event can yield to that hope.