With a week to go

[pecunium]

Christmas is coming.

A feast of hope. Depending on how one measures things it is the third, or fourth, most important feast of the liturgical year. Apart from that, however, even for the devout it is the most joyful. Part of that is the compacted length of it. Lent is forty days, and Eastertide another forty beyond that.

Advent is four Sundays, and the Feast of Christmas is twelve days (though it lingers, in the Church, until the 2nd of February), though most call it quits before Boxing Day.

Easter (the most important feast) lacks something. I think it lacks the sense of rebirth and hope that comes from the innocence of the Nativity. Easter is full of grim tidings, the whiff of the grave is upon us. None of that scent (save the myrhh of the wise men, alluded to in a few carols) taints the dark nights of the Christmas season.

So, with that in mind, I offer up a song. Recent in vintage, and less than cheerful in sentiment, though full of passion, and love and hope.

All the streets are filled with laughter and light
And the music of the season
And the merchants’ windows are all bright
With the faces of the children
And the families hurrying to their homes
As the sky darkens and freezes
They’ll be gathering around the hearths and tales
Giving thanks for all god’s graces
And the birth of the rebel jesus

Well they call him by the prince of peace
And they call him by the savior
And they pray to him upon the seas
And in every bold endeavor
As they fill his churches with their pride and gold
And their faith in him increases
But they’ve turned the nature that I worshipped in
From a temple to a robber’s den
In the words of the rebel jesus

We guard our world with locks and guns
And we guard our fine possessions
And once a year when christmas comes
We give to our relations
And perhaps we give a little to the poor
If the generosity should seize us
But if any one of us should interfere
In the business of why they are poor
They get the same as the rebel jesus

But please forgive me if I seem
To take the tone of judgement
For I’ve no wish to come between
This day and your enjoyment
In this life of hardship and of earthly toil
We have need for anything that frees us
So I bid you pleasure
And I bid you cheer
From a heathen and a pagan
On the side of the rebel jesus.


Jackson Browne, and the Chieftans

The Bells of Dublin (an album everyone ought to own, at least if they have to deal with Christmas. Elvis Costello's St. Steven's Day Murders is precious, Anthony Burgess' reading, the ceilidh medley [with a glorious Boar's Head Carol] Derek Bell on the harp, Paddy Maloney's whistle, and a joyful sense of toegetherness in all the pieces make it worth the money, and more than).

If I forget to say it between now and then, enjoy your holidays, take time to smell the pine trees, light a candle (so much better than cursing the darkness) do some random kindess; and try to keep the flame alive, until next year; when you can rekindle it anew.

Comments

[patgreene.livejournal.com]

Interestingly enough, I find Easter to be a more profound spiritual experience than Christmas. BIrth is amazing, and joyous, and innocent, but resurrection is joyous and triumphant.