Dai­ly Reflec­tion
Decem­ber 21, 1999

By now, it’s quite like­ly that your Christ­mas tree is up and most of your hol­i­day lights and dec­o­ra­tions have trans­formed your home into a place of beau­ty.  But you’re tired.  You’ve tromped through too many malls look­ing for a Poke­mon toy that’s sold out every­where.  You’ve made one too many batch­es of home­made fudge.  If you get one more Christ­mas let­ter about a friend’s child has just won a Rhodes Schol­ar­ship you will upchuck.

It’s time to treat your­self to a peace and san­i­ty induc­ing reminder of what this sea­son is all about.  Use today’s absolute­ly gor­geous read­ings as your text for the fol­low­ing exercise.

Tonight when your house has final­ly qui­et­ed down and every­one has gone to bed, turn out all the lights except those on the Christ­mas tree.  Select your favorite Christ­mas or Advent album (I am par­tial to Gen­tle Night by the St. Louis Jesuits) and play it soft­ly in the back­ground.  Sit by your Nativ­i­ty scene and  read today’s pas­sages in order, start­ing with the  Song of Songs. Put all oth­er thoughts, duties and  con­cerns aside.

Allow the pow­er and beau­ty of the Scrip­tures  to enfold you in peace.

For see, the win­ter is past
the rains are over and gone.
The flow­ers appear on the earth,
the time of prun­ing the vines has come,
and the song of the dover is heard in our land.
The fig tree puts forth its figs,
and the vines, in bloom, give forth fra­grance.
Arise my beloved, my beau­ti­ful one, and come!
Don’t try to fig­ure out what this means.  Just let it encom­pass you along with the lights and music.  You will feel the God of Advent tak­ing over your being as you join the ancient Hebrews in antic­i­pat­ing the com­ing of the Mes­si­ah.  The blue light spe­cials and Martha Stew­art will van­ish from your con­scious­ness.
Take your time - maybe re-read the pas­sage slow­ly or lis­ten to your favorite sooth­ing hymn or car­ol.  When you start to feel utter­ly at peace and very hap­py, con­tin­ue with today’s Psalm and join in its cry for joy - a joy that has noth­ing to do with locat­ing the per­fect gift for Grand­pa on E-Bay.  Lis­ten to a small voice with­in you telling you THIS is what Christ­mas is about.  You may even decide that a bag of pret­zels will do just as well for the staff par­ty as hand-dec­o­rat­ed sug­ar cook­ies or real­ize that you want to take half an hour to vis­it your retired neigh­bor whose only child can’t come home for Christmas.

Final­ly, turn with joy and antic­i­pa­tion to Luke’s exquis­ite account of Mary’s vis­it to Eliz­a­beth.  Jour­ney with Mary and feel her joy at the great com­ing event.  Let it wash over you.  Close your med­i­ta­tion with “Oh Come All Ye Faith­ful,” “Silent Night” or “Joy to the World.”  No mat­ter how tired you are, you won’t want this to end.

To all my read­ers, peace and joy.  I hope my favorite pre-Christ­mas rit­u­al brings you as much seren­i­ty and san­i­ty as it does for me.