Third Sunday in Advent 2009: The Voice in the Wilderness

Zephaniah 3:14-20
3:14 Sing aloud, O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem!

3:15 The LORD has taken away the judgments against you, he has turned away your enemies. The king of Israel, the LORD, is in your midst; you shall fear disaster no more.

3:16 On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem: Do not fear, O Zion; do not let your hands grow weak.

3:17 The LORD, your God, is in your midst, a warrior who gives victory; he will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love; he will exult over you with loud singing

3:18 as on a day of festival. I will remove disaster from you, so that you will not bear reproach for it.

3:19 I will deal with all your oppressors at that time. And I will save the lame and gather the outcast, and I will change their shame into praise and renown in all the earth.

3:20 At that time I will bring you home, at the time when I gather you; for I will make you renowned and praised among all the peoples of the earth, when I restore your fortunes before your eyes, says the LORD.

Isaiah 12:2-6
12:2 Surely God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid, for the LORD GOD is my strength and my might; he has become my salvation.

12:3 With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.

12:4 And you will say in that day: Give thanks to the LORD, call on his name; make known his deeds among the nations; proclaim that his name is exalted.

12:5 Sing praises to the LORD, for he has done gloriously; let this be known in all the earth.

12:6 Shout aloud and sing for joy, O royal Zion, for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel.

Philippians 4:4-7
4:4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.

4:5 Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near.

4:6 Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

4:7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Luke 3:7-18
3:7 John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?

3:8 Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.

3:9 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire."

3:10 And the crowds asked him, "What then should we do?"

3:11 In reply he said to them, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise."

3:12 Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, "Teacher, what should we do?"

3:13 He said to them, "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you."

3:14 Soldiers also asked him, "And we, what should we do?" He said to them, "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages."

3:15 As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah,

3:16 John answered all of them by saying, "I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.

3:17 His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."

3:18 So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.

"And the crowds asked him, 'What then should we do?' In reply he said to them, 'Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.' Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, 'Teacher, what should we do?' He said to them, 'Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.' Soldiers also asked him, 'And we, what should we do?' He said to them, 'Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.'"

I should tell you this is one of my favorite passages, because it gives me Biblical warrant to get all self-righteous on everybody else about how they should behave, when I don't do any of it myself, but I don't have to, because I can just quote John the Baptist. I share food with my friends at Christmas, but I don't go out on the street and give it away to people with no food. I have at least four winter coats in my closet, in a climate where I hardly need one more than a few times a year, but I haven't so much as given any of them away to a resale shop. I don't extort money from anyone, but I'm about as satisfied with my wages as the next guy, which is to say: not at all.

But enough about me: let's talk about you.

I don't get off the hook that easily, do I?

Surely God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid, for the LORD GOD is my strength and my might; he has become my salvation.

With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.

And you will say in that day: Give thanks to the LORD, call on his name; make known his deeds among the nations; proclaim that his name is exalted.

I love Isaiah's words but, like most of us, I'm waiting for that day to do the rejoicing. I'm waiting, in fact, for someone else to do the rejoicing for me. I'm waiting for something to make me rejoice. I'm waiting to trust and not be afraid because the last few years especially have been hard ones for someone who thought he'd be a laborer in the vineyard. But enough about me; let's talk about you.

Let's talk about the covenant between me and you. It's what John is talking about. It's all that John is talking about. Jesus will ask, later: "Why did you go into the wilderness? To see a reed bending in the wind?" No; they went to hear about the requirements of the covenant, to find out how they should live. And John told them. Imagine the energy of the man, that people would go out to the wilderness to find him, and would listen, and even Roman soldiers would ask what they should do because they wanted to respond to him. And John didn't give them any doctrinal answer at all. He gave them the answer of St. Nicholas. He gave them the answers of Basil and Ambrose, four centuries later. He gave them the answers of Jesus, of whom he was the herald. Your neighbor is anyone who needs what you have, and you can spare. Your sister or brother is anyone you can help. He gave them the answer of Jacob Marley, 18 centuries later: "Mankind is your business!"

This is where that chain begins. With this energetic prophet in the wilderness drawing people out to see him because what he says, who he is, what he gives or demands or presents, draws them like honey draws flies, like a Christmas tree draws presents, like Christmas carols draw our memories. The covenant between us is not law or culture or tradition. It is not a creature of law, like a contract, or even comparable to a contract. It is not social or even moral or ethical. It simply is. And the coming wrath is not the terrible judgment of a vengeful God, fed up with creatures who ignore and disobey His Almighty Will: it is the consequence of our own actions and inactions and unrighteousness. It is the results of our own mistakes. What then should we do? Take better care of each other.

John never says "Fear God, and keep God's commandments," though that would be wise, and in keeping with the priestly traditions of his father. He doesn't even try to convert the Roman soldiers to Judaism. They ask what to do, he tells them. It applies to all people. The vision here is the one from Isaiah, from Micah, from the prophets: that all the people would come to the place where God dwells, because there would be justice and righteousness for all. There, the fortunes would be restored, and it would be as on the day of a festival. And from what? The consequences of our actions. The creation of the covenant by giving our second one to one who has none, or giving our food to those who are hungry, and treating everyone fairly and equally.

But enough about you; let's talk about me.

When we put this in terms of "me," then it's all about personal satisfaction. If you put this in terms of a single person, it's all about the limitations and the boundaries and the limits and how much I can, or cannot, do. It's all about my ability to alleviate the suffering of the poor, or to warm a heart, or to bring a smile, or to please a child. Christmas is a sad season for the poor, and when it's all about me, it's up to me to make Christmas happier for someone who is poor, to share my abundance with them. And if that doesn't work, well...what then?

But if Christmas is about us. and the Christchild in our midst, the little baby in the stable the angels invite us to come and visit, how does that make things different? If Christmas is about you, and you, and not about me, how does that change my expectations? And if it is for you and you and even you, not about gifts and material things, but about what you need, about what every person needs, how does that change the season?

If we hear the voice crying in the wilderness, what do we hear it saying? And if we hear what the voice is saying, what does it mean to us? To carry on as we have always done, and be blessed in whatever we were doing? Or to do something completely different? To come to the wilderness, where the shepherds are, where the prophets are, where the angels sing? To come back to the city, and see the child, and realize: enough about me, let's think about you. And if we all did that?

What then?

"Christmas is a sad season for the poor"

In their comprehension of poverty and its solutions, most Americans moved little beyond Dickens. They believed their Christmas generosity praiseworthy. Charles Dudley Warner thought the present American Christmas to be "fuller of real charity and brotherly love, and nearer the Divine intention" than earlier Christmases. The New York Tribune found the holiday "hearty and generous-minded, [full of] good-cheer and open-handed hospitality." "Nowhere in Christendom," it contended, "are the poor remembered at Christmas-tide so generously as they are in American cities, especially in our own."

In this show of self-congratulation, Americans persisted in seeing poor relief as a matter of individual action to be undertaken on much the same terms as gift-giving within the circle of family. That is, Christmas was the time to give. The best and largest gifts went to those closest to the circle's center. The lesser gifts, in descending order of value, went out to relatives and acquaintances of decreasing importance. The worthy poor, as the outermost members of the larger community family, received gifts too, though the least valuable of all the gifts given.

Penne L. Restad, Christmas in America, p. 139, 140

Perhaps I should explain who the "worthy poor" were:

A sense that there were those who were worthy of relief and those who were not qualified the attention devoted to poverty relief [after the Civil War], though. Children almost always deserved aid, as did honest women. Seldom did the same plea go out for men. A seasonal article on the New York Tribune implored the public to provide for poor children. In 1877, it reminded readers that most Americans were "Christian people," and advised them to try their best to keep children from being deprived at this time "when they think that all good gifts and gladness come straight from Him whose birthday it is." At the same time, the paper advised the sympathetic to ignore plain street beggars.

As Restad notes:

The sentimentalization of "worthy paupers" at Christmas time, whether in fact or in fiction, did not bring into question the essential structure of the market economy that had, if only indirectly, produced their poverty. Instead, it imbued destitute women and vagabond children with admirable qualities that existed apart from materialism, perhaps even as substitues for tangible wealth. It also aroused the sympathies of readers by giving a face to poverty, and placed the means of solving the problems of hunger and homelessness in the hands of individuals.(p. 135)

I've learned to look to history for lessons in how we got here, and to understand culture as a genetic inheritance (metaphorically speaking) almost as pre-determined as eye color or gender. we think what we think and act the way we act in part because of who our ancestors were, and what they passed on as important and valuable. The "worthy poor" is an interesting category, especially at this season of the year, when even the most unbelieving among us is encouraged to reflect on the lessons of the man who grew up from the Christchild. Well, perhaps lessons is not the right word. As Bob Cratchit puts it to his wife, speaking of his youngest son:

"Somehow he gets thoughtful sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see."

We don't, after all, want to be reminded that Jesus never put a faith test before someone before Jesus would speak to them, and the one time it is recorded that he did, the Syro-Phoenician woman rebukes him quite accurately. We still prefer our Jesus be more like us, and to start him up from childhood that way, every new year.

I'm well aware of the John Cheever story from which I took the title for this blog. First it crossed my mind as just a good post title; then I reflected on how much it represents that American ideal that individual actions can alleviate poverty for the "worthy poor." I can't think of a story that illustrates that better than Cheever's. It's not really a question of generosity, even, because that question gets down to the issue of ownership in the first place. Restad notes in her history of Christmas in America that it was the affluence and abundance produced after the Civil War that led people to think of widening the circle of their gift-giving, to begin to include at all the "worthy poor." Hard to condemn such compassion, and any critique of it looks just like that: condemnation. But there were other voices, even in the 19th century, even in America:

People nowadays interchange gifts and favors out of friendship, but buying and selling is considered absolutely inconsistent with the mutual benevolence which should prevail between citizens and the sense of community of interest which supports our social system. According to our ideas, buying and selling is essentially anti-social in all its tendencies. It is an education in self-seeking at the expense of others, and no society whose citizens are trained in such a school can possibly rise above a very low grade of civilization
-- Edward Bellamy

The ultimate aim of production is not production of goods but the production of free human beings associated with one another on terms of equality.
-- John Dewey

I confess that I am not charmed with the ideal of life held out by those who think that the normal state of human beings is that of struggling to get on; that the trampling, crushing, elbowing, and treading on each other's heels, which form the existing type of social life, are the most desirable lot of human beings
-- John Stuart Mill

The gross national product includes air pollution and advertising for cigarettes, and ambulances to clear our highways of carnage. It counts special locks for our doors, and jails for the people who break them ... It does not allow for the health of our families, the quality of thier education, or the joy of their play.
-- Robert F. Kennedy

We must recognize that we can't solve our problems now until there is a radical redistribution of economic and political power....[What is required is] a radical restructuring of the architecture of American society.
-- Martin Luther King, Jr

There was a story about a Christmas yard display in Detroit that was too political for some of the neighbors. And generally that's our line on Christmas: we want to reserve it "for the children," and of course, that's still how we think of the "worthy poor," as children. Hard to think of men as children, so they get excluded from the "worthy poor" very easily. We also don't like quotes like those above associated with our Christmas revels. Fair enough. But perhaps even at Christmas we could look again at the ideas of scarcity and abundance, and consider again whether charity really means merely scraping the crumbs off our tables, or if it means something more.

Christmas is a sad season for the poor; but that doesn't mean it has to be; or that our charity has to be based on sorrow, either.

Ne timeas, Maria

There is no rose of such vertu as is the rose that bare Jesu.
Alleluia, alleluia.
For in this rose conteinèd was heaven and earth in litel space,
Res miranda, res miranda.
By that rose we may well see there be one God in persons three,
Pares forma, pares forma,
The aungels sungen the shepherds to:
Gloria in excelsis,
gloria in excelsis Deo.
Gaudeamus, gaudeamus.
Leave we all this werldly mirth, and follow we this joyful birth.
Transeamus, transeamus, transeamus.
Alleluia, res miranda, pares forma, gaudeamus,
Transeamus, transeamus, transeamus.

Second Sunday in Advent 2009: A Soalin'

Malachi 3:1-4
3:1 See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me, and the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple. The messenger of the covenant in whom you delight--indeed, he is coming, says the LORD of hosts.

3:2 But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner's fire and like fullers' soap;

3:3 he will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, until they present offerings to the LORD in righteousness.

3:4 Then the offering of Judah and Jerusalem will be pleasing to the LORD as in the days of old and as in former years.

Luke 1:68-79
1:68 "Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them.

1:69 He has raised up a mighty savior for us in the house of his servant David,

1:70 as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,

1:71 that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us.

1:72 Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors, and has remembered his holy covenant,

1:73 the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham, to grant us

1:74 that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies, might serve him without fear,

1:75 in holiness and righteousness before him all our days.

1:76 And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,

1:77 to give knowledge of salvation to his people by the forgiveness of their sins.

1:78 By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us,

1:79 to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace."

Philippians 1:3-11
1:3 I thank my God every time I remember you,

1:4 constantly praying with joy in every one of my prayers for all of you,

1:5 because of your sharing in the gospel from the first day until now.

1:6 I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.

1:7 It is right for me to think this way about all of you, because you hold me in your heart, for all of you share in God's grace with me, both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel.

1:8 For God is my witness, how I long for all of you with the compassion of Christ Jesus.

1:9 And this is my prayer, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight

1:10 to help you to determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless,

1:11 having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God.

Luke 3:1-6
3:1 In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene,

3:2 during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.

3:3 He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins,

3:4 as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah, "The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.

3:5 Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth;

3:6 and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'"

Again with the covenant. But you have to start there, or the rest doesn't make any sense. You have to start there, or the story is completely out of context and becomes an empty vessel for whatever meaning you want to pour into it. And what kind of story is that?

So: again, with the covenant. It's not a very American thing, either, covenants. Obligations to others make us uncomfortable. Christmas, the season to remember the birth of the man who told us who our neighbor is, is largely a family affair in America, an occasion to remind us of the importance of hearth and home and blood relations. We have no equivalent in American Christmas literature or lore to the vision of "Ignorance" and "Want" as two starving children cowering under the robes of the Ghost of Christmas Present, no tale that reminds us of even the cry of Jacob Marley that "mankind was my business!" Business is business, and Christmas is about business and family in America, not covenants that bind nations together with obligations that far exceed adhering to certain laws or rituals.

Hey ho, nobody home, meat nor drink nor money have I none
Yet shall we be merry, hey ho, nobody home.
Hey ho, nobody home, meat nor drink nor money have I none
Yet shall we be merry, hey ho, nobody home.
Hey ho, nobody home.

Soal, a soal, a soal cake, please good missus a soul cake.
An apple, a pear, a plum, a cherry,
Any good thing to make us all merry,
One for peter, two for paul, three for him who made us all.

God bless the master of this house, and the mistress also
And all the little children that round your table grow.
The cattle in your stable and the dog by your front door
And all that dwell within your gates
We wish you ten times more.

Soal, a soal, a soal cake, please good missus a soul cake.
An apple, a pear, a plum, a cherry,
Any good thing to make us all merry,
One for peter, two for paul, three for him who made us all.

Go down into the cellar and see what you can find
If the barrels are not empty we hope you will be kind
We hope you will be kind with your apple and strawber’
For we’ll come no more a ’soalin’ till this time next year.

Soal, a soal, a soal cake, please good missus a soul cake.
An apple, a pear, a plum, a cherry,
Any good thing to make us all merry,
One for peter, two for paul, three for him who made us all.

The streets are very dirty, my shoes are very thin.
I have a little pocket to put a penny in.
If you haven’t got a penny, a ha’ penny will do.
If you haven’t got a ha’ penny then God bless you.

Soal, a soal, a soal cake, please good missus a soul cake.
An apple, a pear, a plum, a cherry,
Any good thing to make us all merry,
One for peter, two for paul, three for him who made us all.

Now to the lord sing praises all you within this place,
And with true love and brotherhood each other now embrace..
This holy tide of christmas of beauty and of grace,
Oh tidings of comfort and joy.

The lyrics of that Peter, Paul, and Mary song are classic English folk lyrics for Christmas. They have almost no counterpart in American history. Christmas in England, of course, included a long history of noblesse oblige, something unknown to "independent" Americans. As Penne Restad points out, the English would sing "Christmas is coming,/ the geese are getting fat,/ won't you please put a penny/in the old man's hat?" while Americans "skipped past recent histories and took the singer to Biblical times" in songs such as "O Little Town of Bethlehem." Our Christmas focuses on family, not on society. Those we embrace in brotherhood are already our brothers; or our sisters; by and large.

There are lots of reasons for Christmas to be this way in America. But when someone asks: "Isn't there anyone who can tell me what Christmas is all about?!", we generally answer with the domestic scene of the manger and the donkey and the oxen and the shepherds: and so seldom notice that the manger is hardly a home setting, and that shepherds usually stink, as do sheep, and nobody brought any gifts that night, although probably family was around, and accepted the strangers as welcome guests.

Look at Elizabeth's song again: there's nothing in there that is even remotely domestic. It's about the covenant: the promise of God to the children of Abraham, the people of Israel. It's about the fulfillment of that promise. It's about us, but "us" means everybody in the group, at once, together. It doesn't mean the nuclear family or the extended family around the Christmas tree; or if it is about family, it's about a family that extends much further than any family we've ever been a part of.

"Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them.
He has raised up a mighty savior for us in the house of his servant David, as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old, that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us.
Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors, and has remembered his holy covenant, the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham, to grant us that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies, might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him all our days.

"Hey, ho, nobody home....." Holiness? Righteousness? And without fear? And what is this salvation? One who "will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, until they present offerings to the LORD in righteousness." Present offerings? Wait a minute? What about the Christmas presents? What about the stockings and the tree? Is somebody really gonna get coal and switches this year? Really? And what is this "crying out in the wilderness" stuff? Who goes out to the wilderness to get a message? If someone cries out in the wilderness and there's no one around to hear them, do they make a sound?

Soal, a soal, a soal cake, please good missus a soul cake.
An apple, a pear, a plum, a cherry,
Any good thing to make us all merry,
One for peter, two for paul, three for him who made us all.

We don't have traditions like that in our Christmas, but we know about them. We sing the songs, we listen to the stories, we know about the cries of Jacob Marley and the redemption of Ebenezer Scrooge. We know Christmas is connected somehow to St. Nicholas; that in some way he became, or might as well have become, Santa Claus. And we know all that tradition of gift giving is not merely pre-Christian, that it has some ecclesiastical warrant, somewhere in the history between that birth we celebrate, and now. We know gift giving is not just about family, because the gift given that makes us celebrate again was not given to us as family; but it was given to us all the same. We know this, and we appreciate Paul's prayer "that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God," even though we don't much think of love leading to knowledge and insight anymore, unless it is about how important the beloved is to us, personally; individually. Even though we don't like to think that we need to produce a harvest of righteousness, whether it comes through Jesus Christ or anybody else. We know Christmas is supposed to be preceded by a refining fire; but we prefer to precede it with decorations and happy songs that remind us of sleigh rides we've never known, or ancient cities we've only imagined: anything besides the here and now.

But the herald who cried out in the wilderness to prepare the way is still in the wilderness, and his voice still carries to us where we are; wherever we are. And as if that were not miracle enough, his voice compels us to look beyond the bonds of family, to extend the season of Christmas as far as we extend the celebration of Thanksgiving: to turn, not in towards those we know, but out to those we are obliged to. To see that our faith is part of the covenant, and the covenant is part of our obligation to each other. And that that, is what Christmas is really all about.

Amen.

And so this is Christmas....again

First, Christmas as we know it in America didn't really get started until the 1820's. It wasn't widely celebrated until the 1860's, and didn't become an official national holiday until 1870. So the "observance" of it (whatever that means) is not all that old. (For a bit of perspective, A Christmas Carol was published in 1843, and many scholars today attribute the "revival" of Christmas celebrations in England to Dickens). And from almost the moment the holiday was observed as a holiday, it was connected to commerce. So the connection between Christmas and shopping, in America, is as old as Christmas in America itself.

Now there are all kinds of nonsense about Christmas being "stolen" by the Church from pagan rituals, as if the Church were a monolithic power which imposed its will on people, or performed clever subterfuges to foil their innate desires, or simply forced them to "Christianize" what were otherwise "pagan" rituals. Which is, anthropologically and historically and even sociologically speaking: balderdash. As succinct and reliable a history as any on the Web is at New Advent, the Catholic encyclopedia. It's notable that the Christ Mass (from which "Christmas" is derived) didn't exist until the 11th century (quite some time after the collapse of the Roman Empire, and the extinction of the Empire's culture. Not too many Saturnalia's going on in the 11th century, in other words.). The first recorded observance of the birth of Christ (which is what, according to Linus Van Pelt, "Christmas is all about". I'll explain my "neutrality" on that point in a moment) is in Egypt in 200 C.E. Again, not a hotbed of Roman culture. Undoubtedly, though, the same Roman culture which inspired the idea of a republic among the "Founding Fathers" in America, and gave London it's "circus," and left behind ruins that the Danes who told the story of "Beowulf" thought the work of "giants," left its mark on celebrations around the time of the winter solstice. So probably there was a habit of exchanging small gifts among friends at the time eventually set aside for Christmas. But it wasn't the church that "stole" that from the pagans because they needed it. As I say, the Church seems to have gotten along without a formal recognition of Christmas for most of its first millenia. (If you want an idea how winter became the birthdate for Jesus, look at the New Advent link above. There are as many explanations as there are scholars to explain it, though, so don't imagine any one explanation is the "truth."). It wasn't, as I say, that "the Church" stole anything (and the distinction between the Church and the people will become important in a moment). More like something survived, or more likely, was revived. Which means the modern assumption:

Capitalism has of course very successfully colonized established holidays, in much the same way as Christianity nicked Halloween, etc., from the pagans. Christmas is nowadays pure capitalism; Santa is all about the advertising, and the marketing, and the purchasing of consumer products, despite what the kitsch figurines tell you.

is not all that historically sound. Which is where I want to take us, tripping lightly through the thorough and excellent scholarship of Penne L. Restad and her book, Christmas in America (New York: Oxford University Press 1995). It is from that book that the historical information in this post, comes.



The fact is, Christmas as we know it and celebrate it in America, is pretty much an invention of the market place, and has only and ever tangentially been related to Christmas as a religious observance, as the "Christ Mass" held to honor the birth of the Savior. It's more like the two celebrations occur coincidentally at the same time of year, than that one is a vulgar and degrading corruption of the Platonic ideal of the other. Once you understand that, the picture becomes much clearer; or perhaps darker.

If you want to understand how Christmas got started in America, consider the example of the European Feast of Fools. As New Advent says, it was "a celebration marked by much license and buffoonery." Scholars again differ on the reach and importance of this festival; some crown it as a n important "release valve" of the tensions and pressures of feudal society. Others, like Michel Foucault, downplay it was limited to northern France and a few other regions of Europe, and always opposed by the Church. The lesson for us is that this 'feast' was a folk celebration, not a church one, and its irreverence was tolerated by the Church because they couldn't stop it, more than it was encouraged as a way of reminding the peasants of their place in the hierarchy (a comparison to Christmas in the slave holding South will prove instructive here, if I remember to mention it again). Christmas, too, was a folk celebration, one more honored in the British South (thanks to the presence of the Episcopal church) than in Puritan New England (where it was officially banned for a time, in at least some of the New England states). Restad's history presents Christmas as largely a folk celebration, in contrast to Thanksgiving, which was vigorously promoted in the 19th century by Sara Josepha Hale, who did more than any individual to promote Thanksgiving as a national holiday (ironically, the objections to it were on church/state grounds. It was argued that a national day of giving thanks would violate the First Amendment, an objection that was finally obviated by the times, when Lincoln established that later became the holiday) Aside from the religious entanglement objection, Thanksgiving was regarded as more of a "New England" celebration than a national one, for much of that century. Christmas, on the other hand, crept into public celebrations from many lands and many hands, and was early on largely disconnected from any religious observance, and while promoted as connected to the Christchild, was really no more dependent upon Church sanction than it is now. The idea, in other words, that there was a "pure" Christmas observance once upon a time, which the marketplace or the public square corrupted, is as false as the idea that the Christmas celebration we know now descended in an almost unbroken line from the Saturnalia. It just happens that people like an excuse to exchange gifts and eat a lot of food, and especially for people from a northern European culture, winter is a jolly good time to do that.

The interesting thing about Christmas in America is that it's always been a glorious bastard, a jackdaw of a project grabbing "Christmas trees" from Germany (which may, or may not, be related to the "Paradeisbaum" of the medieval German morality plays) and decking the halls and boar's heads and feasting from England (which may or may not be related to, or even influenced by, Druidic practices. It's always seemed like a bit of a stretch to me to go from kissing under the mistletoe directly back to Frazer's "golden bough"). Carols were a medieval creation coming, per Restad, from pagan folk dances that people liked and simply "Christianized" (like most things, the Church couldn't beat 'em, so it joined 'em), although many of the carols we know today are products of the mid- to late 19th century (so it goes). As Restad points out, Christmas in America was cobbled together from European bits and pieces, and the parts that fit in America stuck, and the parts that didn't fell away.

We forget, too, that America initially had no holidays. Europe had them because of the church, which was universal throughout the different countries of Europe, and because of local customs. But without a universal church, or established local customs, America went, for almost a century, without any national holiday which all citizens could claim as their own. Ironically, again, that holiday became Christmas; but not because all Americans were, or were even presumed to be, Christians.

Stephen Nissenbaum argues that the American Christmas was formed more by Clement Clark Moore's poem than any other single source. Accepting his position arguendo, what is most notable about "The Night Before Christmas" is that it creates a holiday and the celebration of it, without ever getting closer to religion than the word "Christmas" (which the Puritan New Englanders despised as a "Romish" word, but which, by Moore's day, had lost almost all religious connotation). This was more a feature than a bug in the 19th century. Dicken's Christmas Carol comes closer to invoking the religious reasons for the season, but he does it mostly in terms of Victorian sentimentality, than in terms of any church doctrine. Penne Restad points out that Christmas was grabbed onto by merchants in America almost as soon as it emerged as a public celebration. The emergence of the holiday coincided with a renewed interest in the power and importance of domesticity, an interest probably prompted by the Industrial Revolution and the quick acceptance by Americans of the ideals of the Romantic movement. Personally I think it was a combination of Romanticism and the Pietistic movement of the 17th century, which effects lingered long in a Protestant dominated culture, but Restad makes clear the connections between the desires for domestic values and the importance of a uniting holiday, one everyone could gather into despite cultural ("Germany" as we know it, for example, didn't exist in the 19th century. We often overlook how many cultural differences there were between Europeans, differences that carried over into America) and doctrinal differences. In this sense, Christmas was the first truly "American" holiday. Grafted onto European roots, without doubt; but made a holiday both observant Christians and non-Christians (and yes, there were some, even in the 19th century!) could engage in. It's not at all insignificant that Christmas in America began as a religious observance almost anyone could join, and quickly became a public holiday everyone could revel in. And aside from the Puritan's objections to the holiday's Catholic roots, it was the revelry they objected to almost as much.

I have a book of Texas related Christmas stories, one of which tells the fictional story of an East Texas Christmas celebration. The celebration consists largely of a family gathering in the isolating woods of East Texas farms, and the children setting off firecrackers, followed by the men firing off guns and drinking rather heavily. To modern sensibilities, it's a bit of a frightening tale, and you keep expecting someone to get hurt in the semi-controlled mayhem. The climax of the festivities comes when the men take their shotguns and fire at the target of the gate down the drive from the house. They end up splintering it into kindling, and it was a nice, new gate. Fireworks exhausted and shotgun shells expended and whiskey consumed, they go to bed and wake early the next morning to eat a simply country meal. But the story closes with the family patriarch, who did the most damage to his own gate, kissing his wife (in public!) and grinning widely as he says: "I had me some Christmas!" No presents, no treats, no store-bought goodies except the firecrackers and the shotgun shells, but a raucous celebration nonetheless. Connected to the Feast of Fools, or Saturnalias? Not likely; but as I say, it's a good time of year to celebrate a bit freely.

As for the Roman Saturnalia, this will give an idea how it was celebrated:

For New Year, Posumus, ten years ago,
You sent me four pounds of good silver-plate.
The next year, hoping for a rise in weight
(For gifts should either stay the same or grow),
I got two pounds. The third and fourth produced
Inferior presents, and the fifth year's weighed
Only a pound--Septicus' work, ill-made
Into the bargain. Next I was reduced
To an eight-ounce oblong salad-platter, soon
It was a miniature cup that tipped the scales
At even less. A tiny two-ounce sppon
Was the eighth year's surprise. The ninth, at length,
And grudgingly, disgorged a pick for snails
Lighter than a needle. Now, I note, the tenth
Has come and gone with nothing in its train.
I miss the old four pounds! Let's start again!

Martial, tr. James Michie

I'm not sure what the Church took from that, but it wasn't much of a bargain.



Where were we then? Oh, yes: Christmas has always been two things at once, especially in America. It's never been a particularly religious holiday, so much as it's been a holiday named for and celebrated around a religious observance (which is still more honored in the breach than in the keeping). Christmas became, almost as soon as it was universally celebrated, a celebration of hearth and home, of domesticity (to this day, does a Christmas tree remind you first of Rockefeller Center, or of your childhood home?) Restad shows us that the Christmas tree itself became an American custom because it came with stories of German families gathered around a small tree on a table top, revealed in all its decorations and offerings of presents by the parents to the excited children. It was the American twist that the tree got bigger and bigger until it had to scrape whatever ceiling it was placed under from the floor on which it had to sit. Some things truly never change.



So is our Christmas ruined by all this commercialism? Depends on whether or not you agree with Linus about "what Christmas is all about." I like his answer, personally. But that's the answer for some of us; it isn't, and doesn't have to be, the answer for all of us. Let it be unto you according to your...well, faith, is how the German E&R Church concluded that blessing. But this isn't necessarily a matter of faith. So let it be unto you according to your best interest. Keep Christmas as it best suits you. And may it be a blessing unto you. Now, and into the ages.

SNOW!!!!!!!!!

Okay, it's 38F, and it looks nothing like that picture, and it isn't so much as sticking (and in fact, is barely snowing), but the prediction is for 2-4" (which means it's gonna have to get colder, which is bad, because it's gonna get icy first, and I'm a freeway or two away from home.). And for snow that was promised at 8 p.m. to come at 8 a.m. on near-enough-for-dammit the Texas Gulf Coast, well, it's about as exciting as December gets.

Especially since we could well be back up to the 70's by Christmas Day. Ya never know.



(I couldn't resist adding it.)

Last thoughts of the night....

Or "Before I go to bed" thoughts. Or maybe even: "If you can't welcome the stranger because he doesn't believe as you believe: screw him!"

Perhaps it's because I was up until 3 a.m. Sunday morning (don't ask), and got up at 7 to take my daughter and two of her friends to the Texas Renaissance Festival. A splendid time was had by all, and simply being out of the daily/weekly/monthly/annual routine (although this is the second year in a row we've gone) was enough to make me see life again as something definitely worth living.

Then I came home and read the intertoobz. Or rather, the comments to this post at Huffington Post. The third time I read some "atheist" insisting atheism had no doctrine (and yet insisting "God" is a "being," and so cannot have existence, or have it's existence proven, or something: an article of faith among all atheists who have no clue about theology OR philosophy of religion), I threw up my hands in despair over the number of people who couldn't see the author's point for their own personal myopia about how THEY WERE RIGHT and anyone who disagreed (ANYONE!) COULD JUST SUCK IT!

So I went to Whiskey Fire, to re-read a post I'm going to use in the future, and again, I made the mistake of reading the comments. And after about the fourth person talking about how "the most wonderful time of the year" actually SUCKS!, I decided real life really was like high school, and we're all trapped in a perpetual adolescence that the intertubes let us talk about and enjoy publicly and endlessly.

I mean, I know you can't expect truly intelligent conversation from any open forum where any person with access and a keyboard can respond to the topic, but honestly: "THE STUPID! IT BURNS!!!!!!"

I just gotta stay away from that stuff. And from eating chocolate covered espresso beans after downing a whole pot of coffee. No, that wasn't the reason for last night; but this experience brought back those memories.

I'm gettin' too old for this....*


*adding: everytime I read these yammering idiots (the uninformed atheists, I mean), I reflect on the fact that I am much more comfortable with ambiguity than they are, and much more aware of the complexities of existence, and none of this is a reason to feel superior in anyway. I tell myself that, anyway.

The Kids are Alright

I'm not an "evangelical Christian" in the contemporary understanding of the term. But if young "evangelicals" are saying things like this:

“Jesus, when he lived on this earth, was with the poor and the outcasts,” Ms. Liao said in an interview. “And I want to be where God was at.”

Then I stand in unity with them. We may still disagree on abortion or school vouchers, but we can agree on that. And they are putting their faith where their keister is.

“It’s not that we’ve rejected the issues that our parents were concerned about,” Mr. Soerens said. “We’ve widened the spectrum of issues that can be dealt with on a biblical basis and that our Christian faith speaks to.”

And how did this happen?

While still a student at Wheaton, Ms. Liao took part in a national conference about AIDS for young evangelicals. She volunteered on a weekly basis at a homeless shelter for gay men in Chicago. She met her future husband, Richard Liao, literally over the ladle at a soup kitchen.

Every experience served to confirm what Ms. Liao thought of as her scriptural mission statement, the passage in the Beatitudes that blesses the poor, the meek, the mournful, the oppressed.

As Ms. Liao’s conscience stirred, so did the community of Wheaton’s. Starting with a sprinkling of Vietnamese refugees in the late 1970s, the town and its scores of churches welcomed a growing stream of refugees — few of them white, many of them not Christian. World Relief opened here in 1984 and now has an annual budget of $3.7 million and a caseload of 5,000 immigrants and refugees.

God moves in mysterious ways. And it's almost always personal. As Wendell Berry taught me, you can't think globally and act locally. You can only think and act locally. You work with what is right in front of you; and that is the world, for you. To tell yourself otherwise, is to fool yourself. To act on that truth, is to be a Christian indeed.

Or enough of one, anyway.

"Welcoming the Stranger." A good lesson for Advent. A good lesson, indeed.

Do you see what I see?

Speaking of Biblical interpretation, via Raspberry Rabbit comes this review of R. Crumb's illustrated version of Genesis. Already I want to find room on the masthead for Gershom Scholem's observation "that the imperative for interpretation is the hallmark of all canonical texts."

"The imperative for interpretation." What a wonderful phrase....

And then we could have an interesting discussion about Crumb's interpretations. If only this were a book club, and we all had copies of the text....

First Sunday in Advent 2009: "A Day on Which Absolutely Nothing Happened."

Jeremiah 33:14-16
33:14 The days are surely coming, says the LORD, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah.

33:15 In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land.

33:16 In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: "The LORD is our righteousness."

Psalm 25:1-10
25:1 To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul.

25:2 O my God, in you I trust; do not let me be put to shame; do not let my enemies exult over me.

25:3 Do not let those who wait for you be put to shame; let them be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous.

25:4 Make me to know your ways, O LORD; teach me your paths.

25:5 Lead me in your truth, and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all day long.

25:6 Be mindful of your mercy, O LORD, and of your steadfast love, for they have been from of old.

25:7 Do not remember the sins of my youth or my transgressions; according to your steadfast love remember me, for your goodness' sake, O LORD!

25:8 Good and upright is the LORD; therefore he instructs sinners in the way.

25:9 He leads the humble in what is right, and teaches the humble his way.

25:10 All the paths of the LORD are steadfast love and faithfulness, for those who keep his covenant and his decrees.

1 Thessalonians 3:9-13
3:9 How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy that we feel before our God because of you?

3:10 Night and day we pray most earnestly that we may see you face to face and restore whatever is lacking in your faith.

3:11 Now may our God and Father himself and our Lord Jesus direct our way to you.

3:12 And may the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, just as we abound in love for you.

3:13 And may he so strengthen your hearts in holiness that you may be blameless before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his saints.

Luke 21:25-36
21:25 "There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves.

21:26 People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.

21:27 Then they will see 'the Son of Man coming in a cloud' with power and great glory.

21:28 Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near."

21:29 Then he told them a parable: "Look at the fig tree and all the trees;

21:30 as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near.

21:31 So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near.

21:32 Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place.

21:33 Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

21:34 "Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day catch you unexpectedly,

21:35 like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth.

21:36 Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man."

What is a 'day'? Sidereal? The period of time between sunrise and the next sunrise? The 24 hours between midnights? How odd is that, that day ends and begins while we sleep. How, then, do we know the day has come? Because we believe the clocks? The calendars? The sun?

We know these things, but how do we know? We may not 'believe', yet the most common, everyday occurences which order our lives, are the matters of greatest faith. When is it midnight? When is it a new day? Without clocks, how do we know? Without calendars, how are we sure? And why do we accept that clocks and calendars are right? Who told us it was so?

So the day that is coming, the day that we will know the kingdom of God is near: what 'day' is that? And is it a day for all of us, a cosmic day, a universal day? Is it a sidereal day, one to be noted in red on a calendar for generations unborn to learn? Or is it an internal day, a personal day, a day you, or I, or someone in particular, will always remember, even if no one else noticed anything.

My friend in high school kept a calendar, and the year he married it was full of important dates related to his wedding day. His was in June, mine in May. Though he was in my wedding party, and I was his Best Man, nothing was recorded on my wedding date in his calendar. So one day I wrote on it: "Absolutely nothing happening" on the date of my planned wedding. And later he gave me a book of photographs from the wedding, photos he had taken. He titled the little book: "A day on which absolutely nothing happened." It did, of course. It changed my life, and the lives of my friends, and of my family and my wife's family. But was it a day? Did it matter to anyone except those involved? Could it be knowing the kingdom is near is like that?

Look again at what Jesus says:

"There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see 'the Son of Man coming in a cloud' with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near."

The Son of Man will be seen coming in a cloud...well, that's what they will say. And when these things take place, stand up. After? or before? And how will it come, again? Signs in the moon, sun, stars? No; like the leaves on the fig tree. Like an annual occurrence you can read from experience, so will the coming of the Son of Man be. Except it will be unexpected and something no one has experienced, and so unlike anything you've ever known, and it will mean not the end of the time but that the kingdom of God is near. But the kingdom of God is already here. And surely it would be an apocalypse, a revelation (it is all that the Greek word means), to even know that kingdom was near, much less to know it was already and always here. And the Son of Man? How will you know it is the Son of Man?

Perhaps because he will look like that Magritte painting above. That's how Magritte imagined him. Perhaps he will look like that. Why not? It has a certain logical symbolism about it. Why could not God make it so? If the signs are going to be as simple as reading the leaves on a fig tree, who can say how the Son of Man will appear? Will you know him? Are you sure? What makes you think you can read the signs? Those in the sun and the moon and the stars seem to portend evil and great things. But the leaves on a fig tree? Doesn't anybody know what those mean? So which signs do we read? The cartoonish omens from a bad movie? Or the quotidian ones that indicate all is as it was before, and will be again? Is the Son of Man who we will recognize? Or who we will wonder about? And will the kingdom of God come in power and be forced on all the unbelievers, like every other kingdom humanity has ever known? Or will it be different this time? Is the Lord who is our righteousness going to establish a reign like the Pax Romana? Is the kingdom of God the imposition of the ultimate cosmic power?

Or is it the return of summer? The Psalmist says God is the one who instructs the student. Paul tells the church at Thessalonia that he prays for God to direct them. Where is the hand of God in this, the hand that coerces and commands and controls and brooks no argument? Where is the "Biblical" God of the "Old Testament" in "righteous anger" that we all know is the "real" God of Christianity, or at least of those "old" books of the Bible?

Why is Jesus telling us we can read the times as easily as we can read tree leaves? And notice what he warns us about:

"Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day catch you unexpectedly, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man."

This is an advent text, which means it is about keeping awake. That is the first call of the church every time the liturgical year comes around and begins again. Keep awake! And Jesus warns us not to get lost in the quotidian, "the worries of this life." He doesn't warn us against the dangers of war and earthquake and famine and cosmic disaster. He warns us against daily living, not "2012." Nations "confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves" is not a prediction of hurricanes and tsunamis: it's a mockery of how easily disturbed we are, how lightly we are thrown off our comforts. The sea and the waves always roar. If we are confused by them, whose fault is that? There are always signs in the sun and the moon and the stars, but what do they really mean? The Mayan calendar stops at 2012 because they cycle of their calendar ends then, not because time comes to an end. What signs are you reading? Those you think are in the stars? Or what the new leaves on the tree mean?

"Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man." It's a joke, not an admonition. A joke worthy of a Magritte painting, which allows you stand before the "Son of Man." What are you waiting for, the kingdom of God to come near? It's here. Proclaim it! What are you waiting for, God to act first? God has! The adventus is coming, it's only four weeks away. It returns every year at this time, have you not heard, have you not seen? What are you waiting for, a reason to act? You have it! Act now, avoid the rush, beat the crowds to the manger! What are you waiting for, a sign from the trees?

This could be the day. Or it could be another day on which absolutely nothing happened. The choice is yours. If you would be awake, be awake to that. And be aware the Son of Man could come looking like a surrealist painting. After all, it's almost a dream concept.

Amen.

Anticipation

Somewhere in late October or early November, the hits at this blog start piling up: people searching for information on Christmas or Advent, and often passing through here (Google loves me, this I know/For Sitemeter tells me so!). Long before Advent has begun, someone wants to know something about Advent. Long before the weather has started to turn toward winter (at least here in Texas, where the signal Christmas is coming and the goose is getting fat is the turn from highs in the 80's to highs in the 70's), people are already turning their thoughts to the future. And then, this morning, reading the hometown paper in my parent's den, I note this headline:

"America Gives Thanks as '09 Gives Way to 2010."

Really? November 27 and it's "Happy New Year" already? I'd better get the Valentine's Day Decorations up, then! Time's a-wastin'!

I get the same increase in hits before Lent starts, and again weeks before Holy Week. Admittedly twice nothing is still nothing and my sampling is so small as to be statistically insignificant, but we do seem to have created an entire culture to living in a future which is supposed to be better than the present. Today, at 4 p.m., the stores were still open in America, so it was "too soon to tell" if Black Friday presaged a good or ill omen for America's retailers. This a reporter informed me with all seriousness. The reporter might as well have said it was too early to tell how the 21st century would turn out, but with a promise that, with the end of the first decade in sight, we'd know soon. Why must the future be known now, in the present? What happens to the future then? By the time we experience it, it isn't even the present any longer: it's already the past, we've already been there, done that, and we want the future we anticipated to hurry up and get here!

I suspect this is a "liberal" disease, too, one created by spending two much time imagining perfection, and turning away from a world that consistently fails to present it. Late that same evening I came across this post at TPM, which notes that Republicans are more likely to vote in 2010 than Democrats by 81% to 56%. Josh Marshall's sage conclusion?

On the one hand you've got very gunned up conservatives, who make up an even greater proportion of the diminished GOP. On the other you've got a mix of demoralized progressives and other Dems who feel like they got the job done in November 2008 and have checked out on politics ... at least for now.

Apparently we liberals conclude that either we voted for 'em, now they should do the dirty work for us (and PDQ, too!), or we voted, and now we turn away from the messy world to continue imagining the perfect one we'd have if only everyone thought as we did. Which is not to say we should all turn into Alan Grayson, either.

There's something peculiarly American about this, it seems to me, this constant rushing toward a future we can never catch up with, running away from a present we can't quite stand. I can understand not wanting to languish in times slow-chapped power, but this is ridiculous. Of course, hits to my blog are no sign of anything; a smaller sampling is harder to imagine. And the Xmas decorations going up earlier and earlier every year at the stores is understandable: today has become known as "Black Friday" because it supposedly puts retailers "in the black" for the entire year. But do we really dwell so much in the future that even the future is not here quickly enough for us, and the present is just an obstacle to our future happiness?

Everyone feels that way about Christmas by now. It's supposed to be the blessed event of the season, the perfect holiday family gathering which heals all wounds and makes good all expectations; and we start anticipating it in October. Not just in the stores, but on the TeeVee. Christmas TV "specials" crowd out Thanksgiving. A new version of "A Christmas Carol" could hardly wait for October for release. I think it may have already left the theaters. TV specials will crowd the airwaves (if there are any TV stations still actually broadcasting) between now and mid-December, in mad haste to get on and over with before December 25th. I hadn't expected to be looking toward New Year's Day until December 26th, but already I'm wondering if by then we won't already be done with that. Why the rush? Why the hurry? Why have we learned to hasten to the future as if the present was an unlivable reality and the future a place we could actually live if we could only get there in time?

I think there are two related sentiments here: one is a desire for perfection that can never be achieved, and so leaves some of us permanently frustrated with the present. The other is a desire for a future where we finally achieve that mythical "pursuit of happiness" Thomas Jefferson unfortunately, and certainly unintentionally, saddled us with. Jefferson undoubtedly meant, at best, that the pleasure was in the pursuit, but as a nation we've turned happiness into the Questing Beast, and cast ourselves all in the role of King Pellinor. It's something we will never catch, but we all seem to feel it is our ancestral duty to pursue it. The pursuit of perfection leaves us half-crazed with frustration, but the pursuit of the Questing Beast leaves us forever on the quest, and never at rest in the present. Indeed the future, the goal to be obtained, becomes a perpetual present, and while time doesn't come to a halt, it effectively ceases to exist, leaving us in a sort of limbo where we keep looking for temporal boundaries: Thanksgiving, Black Friday, Christmas Eve, Ash Wednesday, the first Sunday of Advent or Lent, the end of school/beginning of school, as measures of, at least, our progress. But rather than observe them, we constantly anticipate them, and by the time they arrive we've rushed past them, looking perpetually ahead to the future that is never coming and never arrives, but pulling it into the present so that present and future are obliterated in a constant Now experienced as Then. Except it isn't experienced; at all. Or just barely.

What would it be like, for once, to slow down? To not anticipate the future, even it's only December, or only Advent, or only the shopping days before Xmas; to not anticipate them, but simply to experience them? What would that feel like? Instead of judging the quality of the days, just to relish their quotidian nature? Instead of rushing to accomplish the future, we think only of the present, and what it requires of us? "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." "Give us this day our daily bread."

What if, instead of asking for so much, we asked for less? And then realized we already had it, and everything we need? What then?