O ancient love, processing through the ages:

O hidden love, revealed in human form:

O promised love, the dream of seers and sages:

O living love, within our hearts be born.

- Michael Joncas

"Show me your face before your parents were born."

Zen koan

The ancient sacredness of this time of year . . . .

Wisdom in observing nature and the changing of the seasons . . . .

Not based on fear, but a knowledge of the pattern of change. The longest, darkest night of the year inevitably leads us back into light! The winter solstice: December 25 (now the 21^st of December).

Originally a pagan festival honoring the ancient god of agriculture, Saturn, it became a celebration of the birth (rebirth) of the invincible sun (sol invictus) that included rituals to glorify Mithras, the Persian sun god. Mithraism had some interesting parallels with Christianity and for a while competed with Christianity in an effort to win the hearts and minds of the Romans. The festival of Kalends was also celebrated around this time. It marked the day of the new moon and the first day of the month and religious year.

In the fourth century CE the Greek writer Libanius tells us about the mid-winter celebration of Kalends:

The celebration of the Kalends, is celebrated everywhere as far as the limits of the Roman empire extend. Everywhere may be seen carousals and well-laden tables; luxurious abundance is found in the houses of the rich, and even in the houses of the poor better food than usual is put upon the table. The impulse to spend seizes everyone. One who the whole year through has taken pleasure in saving and piling up money, becomes suddenly extravagant. Those who erstwhile were accustomed and preferred to live poorly, not at this feast enjoy themselves as much as their means will allow. . . .

People are not only generous towards themselves, but also towards each other. A stream of presents pours itself out on all sides. The highroads and footpaths are covered with whole processions of laden people and beasts. As the thousand flowers which burst forth are the adornment of spring, so are the thousand presents poured out on all sides the decoration of the Kalends feast.

It may justly be said that this is the fairest time of the year. The Kalends festival banishes all that is connected with toil, and allow people to give themselves up to undisturbed enjoyment. From the minds of young people it removes the dread of the schoolmaster. The slave it also allows, as far as possible, to breathe the air of freedom.

Another great quality of the festival is that it teaches men and women not to hold too fast to their money, but to part with it and let it pass into other hands.

I am intrigued by the ancient sense of the promise of this season and the impulse to gather close to family and friends, to give to others, and to celebrate. This isn't about doctrine, it's about being human and being connected to the changing of the seasons.

By Kenneth L. Patton:

The days of the year have stiffened in ice,

And darkness has grown upon the land.

The season of cold and early dusk is upon us.

The sun has retreated down the sky,

The living green has forsaken the earth,

And the leaves have fallen.

No longer do the flowers bloom,

And the birds have fled to the south.

But [we] approach the shortened days with gladness,

And the ancient fear is no longer on [our] faces.

From darkness will come light,

And out of the cold it will be born the flaming sun.

The frozen soil is no enduring danger,

And the heavy death upon the earth is no lasting peril.

For seed is stored in the bins,

And the roots in the soil are only sleeping a long sleep.

[We] hold the turning of the year as a promise,

And the renewing of life is [our] solid hope.

The time of the new year is known,

And [we] ready [our] houses for the celebration.

Now the sun will again climb the heavens,

And henceforth the darkness will be pushed back each day.

And the months of snow will give way to the months of leaves,

And petals will fall upon the earth.

The young will be brought from the womb,

And the shoot will burst from the seed.

[We] will walk upon the greening grass,

And [our] plowshares will divide the warming soil.

In the midst of winter the promise is given of the summer season,

And in the midst of darkness there comes the assurance of the light.

In the midst of cold comes a messenger of warmth,

And in the days of death there is heard the good news of life.

Nowhere is the joy of this celebration and the promise of this good news more clearly embodied than in the carols we sing at Christmas time. But we almost didn't have any Christmas carols. Originating, as best we know, in the fifteenth century, this musical form almost became extinct in the seventeenth century. In 1647 the puritan parliament in England officially abolished Christmas. The thinking behind this is expressed in the words of Hezekiah Woodward who, in 1656 called Christmas, "The old Heathen's Feasting Day, in honour to Saturn their Idol-God, the Papist's Massing Day, the Profane Man's Ranting Day, the Superstitious Man's Idol-Day, the Multitude's Idle Day, Satan's - that Adversary's - Working Day, the True Christian's Fasting Day. . . . We are persuaded, no one thing more hindereth the Gospel work all the year long, than doth the observance of that Idol Day once in a year, having so many days of cursed observance with it."

Fortunately, for us, the carols we associate with Christmas, were revived in the nineteenth century and these beautiful songs are now heard and sung throughout the world at this time of year. Percy Dearmer, in his introduction to THE OXFORD BOOK OF CAROLS, writes:

The typical carol gives voice to the common emotions of healthy people in language that can be understood and music that can be shared by all. Because it is popular it is therefore genial as well as simple; it dances because it is so Christian, echoing St. Paul's conception of the fruits of the Spirit in its challenge to be merry - "Love and joy come to you." Indeed, to take life with real seriousness is to take it joyfully, for seriousness is only sad when it is superficial: the carol is thus all the nearer to the ultimate truth because it is jolly.

THE OXFORD BOOK OF CAROLS, p. v.

I think that one of the ways in which music, and particularly our lovely Christmas carols, impacts us is to create space within us for hope, peace, joy and love. This can be the movement of, the opening up to a very profound rebirth within us. To paraphrse the fourteenth century mystic Meister Eckhart, "It does no good for God to be born in Mary's womb if God is not also born in your own heart, too." Jack Kornfield describes this birth as,

This is the Child of the Spirit for whom all things are new. For this divine child there is wonder, ease, and a playful heart. The child is at home in the reality of the present, able to enjoy, respond, to forgive, and to share the blessings of being alive.

Through the child, our journey brings us back to witness with amazement and love the natural unfolding of all that lives. The Buddha declares, "This world and the pure heart that perceives it are luminous." When we allow ourselves to open into innocence, all existence becomes sacred.

Thomas Merton described the moment when he opened his eyes in this way:

Then it was as if I suddenly saw the secret beauty of their hearts, the depths of their hearts where neither sin nor desire can reach, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God's eyes. If only they could see themselves as they really are. If only we could see each other that way all the time, there would be no war, no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed. . . . I suppose the big problem would be that we would fall down and worship each other.

Kornfield, AFTER THE ECSTASY, THE LAUNDRY, p. 293

So here we are together, just past the winter solstice, contemplating a newborn infant in his mother's arms, singing the festive carols of this joyous season, preparing to celebrate with those we love, and opening our hearts and minds to the beauty and the blessings of this time. I leave you with this final thought from the mystic Angelus Silesius, "If in your heart you make a manger for the birth, then God will once again become a child on this earth."

May your Christmas be pregnant with sacred possibilities.

Again Yahweh spoke to Ahaz, saying, Ask a sign of your God; let it be deep as Sheol or high as heaven. But Ahaz said, I will not ask, and I will not put Yahweh to the test. Then Isaiah said: "Hear then, O house of David! Is it too little for you to weary mortals, that you weary my God also? Therefore Yahweh will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel. He shall eat curds and honey by the time he knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good. For before the child knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land before whose two kings you are in dread will be deserted. Yahweh will bring on you and on your people and on your ancestral house such days as have not come since the day that Ephraim departed from Judahóthe king of Assyria."

Now the birth of Jesus the Anointed took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of God appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins." All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by Yahweh through the prophet:

"Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,

and they shall name him Emmanuel,"

which means, "God is with us."

When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of God commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.