December 5th, 2016. Light snow offering a fresh start to the morning…cold, brisk… a challenge to get warm and then stay that way. Bob- out the door for a much needed separation, especially in this time of “too much to do!”. Me-determined to get the thoughts out of my head and down in print. Pack up the computer, drop my beau at the Middle School and drive straight to the coffee shop. Not stymied by the tangle of information needed to connect to the internet here, I open a blank in Pages. Already more challenge than I want on a Monday morning…push through…Tiger Hours, my daughter calls them…about one left to write if I will make it to Yoga too.
The page at last...respnding to inspiration….the gift of over 100 university students at Brown University's 100th Lessons and Carols ceremony yesterday. The format is familiar…ancient stories from creation through the birth of Christ, old carols, complex anthems from standard choral literature and new anthems penned by alumni. The sensations are also familiar-the squish of bodies in smaller folding chairs ( an approach designed to conform to the regulation that all must be seated), the indescribable sparkle of a brass ensemble, the smell of hundreds of burning candles creating a glowing congregation of seekers singing the story song, Silent Night.
The message is the same…He promised to come among us, the weak, the hopeless, the fearful and the discouraged, and He kept His promise. So many have lived so hopefully as a result.
To keep a faith, one must adopt a certain mindset, a simple and optimistic one. Some would call it childish. Perhaps that is the draw for me. I have spent a lot of time among young children, and I recognize their overwhelming optimism and persistence. “Ask and you shall receive”, especially if the ask comes in multiple, persistent and exhaustively inventive ways. Is it their innocence that moves us to say “yes”, or our overwhelming love of those childish voices and personalities? Does the "yes" come for reasons too mysterious and numerous to ponder? Within a context of safety and care, how can it hurt a child to make them happy in the moment? How can it hurt us to believe that we too are worthy of the attention of a greater power than ourselves?
Simple knowledge of God, as described in the old and new testaments, leads us to a belief that He (or she?) is loving and fair, just, wise and has high expectations of us. Sounds like a good parent. Hence the naysayers may be correct...faith is a childish behavior.
This season, I choose childish!
As a result,
I feel no embarrassment when moved to tears, as in yesterdays case, by the powerful sound of the organ in Sayles Hall, coupled with countless voices singing “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”.
I am thrilled by the sight of so many students giving me a gift of their festive presence and voices, singing lyrics both poetic and enchanting. (the adult me wonders how many are in the throes of exams today, and did they sleep or stay up all night to prepare?)
I am happy in the moment, surrounded by strangers who pose no threat to me.
I don’t feel the biting cold as I exit the Hall post concert. I’ve got my sugar cookie and cider to keep me warm!
I am content and refreshed, knowing that someone(s) cared enough to “hold me tight” for a couple of hours and made all my angst go away.
Today, I tuck the child snuggly inside me, and return to my adult world. I recognize the worries, heed the warnings, sympathize with the grieving, and ruminate on the challenges ahead. The optimism I feel is adult in nature, knowing the resources I have at hand. The view I bring to each situation is longer on perspective, having reached the age of reason decades ago. The wisdom I am grateful for calms my jittery nerves, as I recognize patterns in human behavior and the impact of collaboration, education, intellectual discourse and compassion in any given crisis.
Today, I heed the words of the wise university chaplain, who reminds us of the work in front of us, even as we revel in the light and love of the season. I am conscious of the yearly refrain spoken by all at the Ceremony of Lessons and Carols- that the work of Christmas only begins on December 25th.
I will make as merry as a child today, as I sort the stocking stuffers and plan for the weeks ahead. I will fear no evil for a time.
I will also tap my adult sensibilities to reach for a higher purpose in some small or big way, to make the season equally bright for some unknown creature, also determined by God to dwell among us, and in need of my attention…
I will make no pretense that things are not tough for many, and I am but a small voice in the wilderness.
I will, however, let hope fill a few extra corners of my heart and mind.
Childish Adult…nice to know me!
