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WintergreenSunday, December 17, 2017
From John 1 Today's first reading speaks of spring, not winter. "As the earth brings forth its plants, and a garden makes its growth spring up ..." Yes, but not today. Not this week. Today much of life is asleep. On December 21 we'll have nine hours and nineteen minutes of sunlight in Urbana. That's almost six hours less daylight than on the longest day of the year. A famous English Christmas carol embraces cold reality. "In the bleak mid-winter, frosty wind made moan. Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone." The writers of Netflix' "The Crown" caught up with the secretly dying King George VI's grief on Christmas, 1951. Carolers greeted the royal family at their family home with this bittersweet carol. "Snow had fallen, snow on snow, in the bleak mid-winter long ago." A quiet, brave five-year-old girl brings the king his gift. In its red box, so bright and new beside the dead red box that contains his royal business papers, sits a lovely paper crown. He puts it on, takes the girl's small hand in his, and quietly the king begins to cry. He dies in February, alone in his bed, on the cruelest day of the cruelest month of bleak mid-winter. A second text today reclaims our right to praise. "Brothers and sisters! Rejoice, always! Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks. Do not put out the Spirit's fire." In the smattering of days between Christmas and the day of his death, the king lit up like a dying light bulb. His energy knew no bounds, even as he coughed blood from his one remaining lung. I think of Mary and Joseph, excited for the birth of their son, no matter what nightmares might await. This is nearly the moment of joy to the world. Glories stream from heaven afar. Let there now be no shadows of far off crucifixion. In this week of final preparation, the angels sing and sing. One more time, Lord, you speak through the child. You carry our crowns in the big red box, and reach up to us so we can put them on our heads. All your love sparkles in the tears falling from my eyes. You hold us all so close, so near your own tears, and your breath warms ours. We are alive with you on this nearly winter day. |
All of us are fast approaching the shortest day and longest night of the year. None escape. The winter solstice will be celebrated with music and drama around the northern hemisphere, but it mostly looks to me like a world-wide, fruitless effort in denial. Party time? Our part of the earth is nearly frozen.