Seeking Wisdom

“For we need a little music, need a little laughter
Need a little singing ringing through the rafter
And we need a little snappy, happy ever after
We need a little Christmas now. . .”

I need a little music, not just at Christmas time, but every day. Don’t get me wrong–attempts to be more comfortable with silence has been a constant preoccupation. However, after nearly forty years of sitting quietly in daily meditation, I must also turn on Mahler, Joni Mitchell, Native American flute music, or whatever matches my mood, to stir me into action each day. As I write this, I am listening to KUSC, my favorite classical station for “Mozart in the Morning,” which provides a rich background for my daily tasks. Music takes me to an inner silence and helps distract me from the worries that often plague me when all the demons of life fly into the darkness.

Having been silenced too many times in my life for being a woman, small in stature but with a curious mind and a gift for speaking up, I was often told (verbally and nonverbally) that I was too loud, too forceful, too intimidating. Frequently scolded to “tone it down,” when I was young, I learned to be silent when I wanted to yell out; to swallow anger, dismay, questions, and loud belly laughs so that I would not disturb anyone. It has taken many years of inner work to relinquish these engrained early messages. Music has always empowered me, comforted me, lifted my moods and allowed me to wallow in emotions for however long I choose. Music is the voice of God who repeats “I love you” in the notes, stanzas, crescendos, and lyrics of countless composers and musicians.

It is December 29^th. The doldrums of the Christmas season have perhaps set in at your house and you just want to move on, be done with all the false merriment. Resist the urge. Put on some music you love today. Sit down, cover up with a blanket, and just listen to one great piece, or one favorite album in the space of your own personal silence, a forever gift flowing over the soundwaves of time.

“Let your heart be light. . .from now on our troubles will be out of sight. . .”

The winter solstice, the darkest day of the year, has now passed. Each day henceforth, the light increases, precisely the reason why celebrating the Incarnation on December 25^th is so meaningful in the northern hemisphere. The Light of the World came to dispel the darkness forever.  Mirrored in the landscape of Earth and sky, that hope shines brightly during the Christmas season.

In 1969, more than 500,000 U.S. military personnel were stationed in Viet Nam. There were 11,780 American soldiers dead that year, countless more Vietnamese. In June, I had just returned from doing a USO tour of the east-west Mediterranean, entertaining the troops stationed to protect our NATO allies, most having already served tours in Viet Nam. I was deeply affected by the casualties of war, having seen the desperate look in the eyes of so many young men. That December, I was asked to sing at a Christmas party for a large department store in my home town. I chose to perform “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” because I wanted to uplift the hearts of families who had sons fighting or killed in the war. We were hanging onto hope that “our troubles will be out of sight,” as this emotionally-packed song lyrics crescendo. There was not a dry eye when the song ended, a sign of a deep inner strength best expressed in this human “holy water.”

In March of 2020, the darkness of sickness and death due to a world-wide pandemic descended upon us.  At first, there was nothing but fear and dread, no light in the darkness. Then came the vaccines which shot hope into our lives again. Like the waxing and waning of the moon, hope restores our faith and increases our love.  This is life in all its complexities.

On this fourth day of Christmas, may we allow the light of this ever-present hope warm and inspire us.

“Sleighbells in the air; beauty everywhere. . . “

Yesterday, the day after Christmas, I was walking my dog in the neighborhood happily listening to Christmas carols on my airpods when I passed by a couple in their front yard busily taking down their lights and decorations. No, no, no, I wanted to yell out at them. Christmastime has only just begun! I resisted the urge and said nothing but quickly walked to the other side of the street. Why are people so anxious to let go of the beauty of this season? My irritation was rising as well as my judgment. Maybe they are going on a trip and want this task done before they leave, suggested my better self. Still, a feeling of melancholy engulfed me. Then the song, “Christmas Time Is Here,” sung by Sarah McLachlan came up on my playlist. If you haven’t heard her version, I highly recommend it. It’s a moody song and hers is a very moody, jazzy version but seemed to fit the circumstance.

As I rounded the corner and headed up my street’s steep hill, I came face-to-face with an enormous holly hedge complete with crimson berries. I stood transfixed before it. I had forgotten that holly grows in California. Somehow, it seemed incongruous, as if snowflakes should be decorating its branches. Wait, were those sleighbells I just heard merely in my imagination? I felt my spirits rising like incense at this precious gift, a Christmas decoration that cannot be taken down at a whim. I said a prayer of thanks for this hint of Christmas, evergreen and stalwart, right on my street, all year long.

The song is right—”Christmas time is here. . .and beauty is everywhere.”

“All is calm, all is bright. . .”

“I like being around you because you are a calm person,” said a student I had some years ago. Oh wow, I thought at the time, I must be some actress. I rarely felt calm when I was teaching, although it was a quality I yearned to have, deep within, especially at Christmas.

As I have aged, and especially this year, I feel that sense of calm increasing. After retiring from ministry in September, my spirit is much more receptive of the deep-down serenity that often alluded me during my busier years. Perhaps calm is merely an ideal we strive for our entire lives, but only catch fleeting moments of here and there when we are generative, busy, and restless for more. When we are privileged to live longer, time does not slow down by any means. However, slipping into the stillness is no longer another task on the to-do list. Time spent in contemplation opens the door to the timelessness of the Holy One, a welcome respite any time of the day.

Today, I sat by my fireplace and gazed at the Nativity scene. I allowed the words of “Silent Night” to breathe through my consciousness. “All is calm, all is bright” then permeated my whole being this second day of Christmas.

“Let every heart prepare him room. . .And heaven and nature sing. . .While fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains repeat the sounding joy. . .”

It is Christmas day! Time to celebrate JOY, no matter what the news tells us, no matter what burdens we are carrying, no matter how many injustices remain in our world. The Incarnation of Jesus, the second “big bang” that happened on Earth, infused a light that can never be extinguished. But we have to open our eyes to see it, open our hearts to experience it.

Perhaps because I was born on Christmas Day, my soul is inured with a deep primordial joy when the season rolls around. Lovely childhood memories of Christmases in Minnesota, when my parents were in charge, rise from my daily meditations. We were not rich by any stretch, but we always had a tree, gifts (extras for me, the birthday girl), a special meal and a birthday cake. My heart still expands when I recall soft snow falling at night, the sound of familiar carols during midnight mass in our ancient stone church, my mother wishing me a happy birthday when mass was over.

The Christmases I have lived in California, when I was in charge of the celebrations, are also filled with joy unspeakable. Determined to make every year better, I conjure up the mystical and magical as I prepare during Advent for the big celebration. I bake traditional cookies, prepare sacramental meals, and plan spiritual rituals for friends and family who grace my dinner tables. Everyone must get involved and partake of the food that nourishes both body and soul.

On this first day of Christmas 2021, the joy of our candle-lighting ritual before dinner always elates me. Little white candles in gold candle holders are clipped to every plate. As we light each others’ candles, each person pronounces a blessing. This year, we had twenty people at the table (I have 9 grandchildren)! They blessed family, healthcare workers, friends far away, in hospitals, in nursing homes, or those homeless on the streets who do not have anyone. Most heartening were the tiny chirps of affirmation from our one-year-old in a high chair. She provided a light-hearted accompaniment to the solemn blessings of those who lost a loved one to Covid this year. More nourishing than the meal itself, there are no words to describe moments like these. Tears of joy spilled into my glass of wine as we toasted to another glorious Christmas day.

Every year, beginning on December 25^th, I celebrate the full twelve days of Christmas. Perhaps because of my work in ministry for so many decades, I have been an insistent proponent of following the strict church calendar. But that’s not the only reason. I simply wanted to have a designated span of time to slow down and embrace the Incarnation, the infusion of the divine into every order corner of my life. At year’s end, this practice has steadied and fortified me for whatever the coming new year would bring. I see it as a gift not only to myself but to anyone who yearns for wisdom, seeks more meaning out of life than our consumer culture can ever provide. Rather than feeling let down the day after Christmas (as so many children often experience), or a sense of “good riddance” (as so many adults experience), the anticipation mounts to stay in the “Christmas frame of mind” until we reach Epiphany on January 6^th.

For years, I have written and shared these reflections with family, friends, in person and online and many of you have accompanied me on this little sojourn. So once again, I invite you to take this twelve day journey with me. Resist the urge to take down the tree and put away the decorations early! Tarry awhile in the glow, linger in the light, and feel filled with strength when the first week of 2022 comes to be.

O EMMANUEL, COME, help us know you are “God with us” in your birthless, deathless presence flowing from every leaf, flower, butterfly, bird, animal, and person; show us we are one.

O KING, COME unexpectedly into our carefully ordered worlds and surprise us with your reign of mystical passion; bring us to our knees in adoration before your crown of love.

O DAYSPRING, COME, illumine our hearts with the warmth of your love; give us the courage to bear your light to those engulfed in darkness.

O KEY OF DAVID, COME, unlock the doors of our hearts and free us from the prisons of dysfunction that keep us stuck and imprisoned; inspire us to liberate others from the shackles of shame.