It has been a lovely New Year's Day. I've always tried to honor the traditions of the communities where I've lived, and no one celebrates New Year's Eve - Hogmanay - like the Scots. Adjusting for the time difference, I tune into BBC Alba around 6:30 pm on New Year's Eve and thoroughly enjoy the traditional Scottish music (usually in the form of a céilidh, but this year they had to be more creative). And okay, Western Isle Rock is not my cup of tea (with loudly shouted lyrics of we feed the sheep and cut the peat until the day we die). But the traditional music - I love that. There is always a piper to ring in the New Year as I sip a wee dram of Glen Garioch - distilled close to where I stayed in Scotland. When Scotland was put to bed for the night it was time to worship with a wonderful little church in San Anselmo, California (it is near the Seminary where I did my DMin coursework and I would worship there for Vespers every Saturday night I was in residence). And it was a lovely service! I was able to sit and appreciate the many good things that have happened in this really awful year - a reminder that no time is all good or all bad. And then it was off to bed to read until the fireworks shook the house. My neighbors love pyrotechnics.
And in keeping with culinary traditions of NE Ohio, I made sure sauerkraut dishes were prepared for late last night and today! A little good luck this year will go a long way, so I also lit my bayberry candles, which made my Mother and Grandmother smile. I'm not a superstitious person by nature, but after 2020, I'm all in for a little bit of luck!
Today found me at the loom. Exactly a year ago I wound a warp to put on LeClerc so I could weave something beautiful during Christmastide and Epiphany. Now one year later I started dressing the loom with that warp. I have yet to weave in my new home in Ohio, but I came one step closer today. My studio is still hither and yon, so dressing the loom involved lots of improvising (including 4 cans of beans, 4 plastic bags, assorted lengths of texsolv and 4 S hooks). No problem-solving or higher cognitive functions were involved in the fixes - it was all muscle memory. And this very finicky and neglected warp slid on the warp beam as smooth as silk. I was surprised - neglect a warp like this and it often kicks and screams while going on the warp beam. But no misbehaving today - just smiles all the way around. Tomorrow I will thread the heddles - it is a complicated pattern so that will require concentration. Bliss.
Once upon a time I would spend New Year's Day in some kind of retreat - reviewing the previous year, taking stock of lessons learned, noticing my growing edges and planning for the New Year. It was a very thorough and satisfying exercise hemmed with prayer and meditation. But not this year - this New Year's Day it feels enough to have survived last year - no need for the post mortem or lessons learned review. And I dare say that the growing edges are easy enough to see and the lessons learned came with enough ashes and smoke that they will not be easily forgotten! I am fine with keeping up my gratitude practice and doing just one thing at a time to nurture the growth that is happening as a result of this past year. That being said, I am pondering my experience of Christmas this year, as it was both wonderful (truly amazing!) and a little guilt-producing! It is hard to accept feeling joyful when so many are suffering!
I have been part of leading Christmas Eve services since 1984, and this was the first and only time I have thoroughly enjoyed my Christmas Eve and felt present to welcome Christmas Day. Every other year involved the manic rush up to the highly choreographed multiple services of Christmas Eve. The most stressful time was when I lived in Scotland and the singing of Silent Night by candlelight had to end immediately before midnight so the whole church was silent at midnight to hear the church bells toll for Christmas Day! The first year I thought I would have an emotional breakdown trying to keep the trains running right on time! After a few years I relaxed a little - but there was always the worry. Sliding two and from Church in bad weather - not getting home until 1 a.m. and then being too tired to enjoy that it was now Christmas and too wound up to go to sleep. That was the usual sequence of events. Mind you, I find great joy in creating space for Christmas Eve worship that others find beautiful and meaningful. But there was nothing left of me when it was over - and I didn't get to do what I needed to do to enjoy Christmas. Christmas day was usually a blur (especially in Scotland where I had a morning worship service), and with any luck, I started to click in by Boxing Day. But it always felt like I missed Christmas - like Christmas had passed me by.
This year was different. As the snow feel outside and the winds howled, we celebrated the 7 pm service on Zoom - and although everyone would rather be in the sanctuary, it was still lovely. When the service was over I didn't have to wait several hours for the next one or venture out in the snow. Instead, I went into the kitchen and fixed a light snack, and sat by the tree enjoying my Advent and Christ candles and a little Windham Hill Christmas Music. When it was time I pulled up the little church in San Anselmo on my iPad, and watched their service while enjoying the beauty of the lights in my home. When the service was over I placed Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus in the crèche and I went to bed - feeling very much like I had welcomed Christmas. I had created space - there was space for Christ to be born in my heart. It felt both peaceful and joyful.
Christmas Day was not a day of exhaustion - it was also lovely. I was able to attend the Christmas Day service at the church in San Anselmo, do some things around the house, and accepted the kindness of friends who dropped a Christmas meal at my door (delicious)! In past years I would have declined their kind offer, but this year I decided to try saying yes. Yes can be wonderful - in return it feels like a hug from God when kind people share their love with you!
I always said I wanted to have a quiet Christmas like this sometime after I retire, and had slotted in Christmas of 2030 as the earliest that might happen. I did not expect to have the experience now - I was completely surprised by the peace and joy! And I wonder if there are parts of what I experienced that can carry over to future Advent and Christmas celebration...
I found this interesting reflection by Loretta Ross-Gotta in one of my favorite Advent devotionals. I'm sure I've read this twenty times before, but this year it really spoke to me:
Jesus observed, "Without me you can do nothing." (John 15:5). Yet we act, for the most part, as though without us God can do nothing. We think we have to make Christmas come, which is to say we think we have to bring about the redemption of the universe on our own. When all God needs is a willing womb, a place of safety, nourishment, and love. "Oh, but nothing will get done," you say. "If I don't do it, Christmas won't happen." And we crowd out Christ with our fretful fears. God asks us to give away everything of ourselves. The gift of greatest efficacy and power that we can offer God and creation is not our skills gifts, abilities and possessions. The wise men had their gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Paul and Peter had their preaching. Mary offered only space, love, belief. What is it that delivers Christ into the world - preaching, art, writing, scholarship, social justice? Those are all gifts well worth sharing. But preachers lose their charism, scholarship grows pedantic, social justice alone cannot save us. In the end, when all other human gifts have met their inevitable limitation, it is the recollected one, the bold virgin with a heart in love with God who makes a sanctuary of her life, who delivers Christ who then delivers us. Try it...
I did not intentionally try to approach this holy season a different way this year, but through circumstances and the opportunities of the readings and worship, something started to shift in my heart - in a good way. And I experienced joy - even in these circumstances! I think the pandemic pace played a role, as did the readings from the devotionals and my regularly making time for worship that I wasn't leading (thank you to the dear ones in San Anselmo)! And the pandemic pace allowed for more time for prayer, which is something I need. The work load wasn't less, but it was different. And these differences seemed to open up just enough space for grace to break through!
If I could give up this joy and make the pandemic go away, I would in a heartbeat! But giving up my joy will not control COVID-19. With so many people suffering, I want to take care to make sure my joy does not unintentionally minimize the pain anyone is experiencing. I know that even though the date of the year has changed, the pandemic, polarization, systemic racism, political upheaval, economic uncertainty, climate calamity and all manner of frightful things are still very real and very present. The peace and the joy do not change any of those very real circumstances. But they do help to fortify me to continue God's transformative work. Perhaps that is how God With Us works - the circumstances stay the same, but we have the inner comfort of knowing that we are not in this alone.
To this I can testify: When we create space for God, God meets us in that space. God is with us. We are not alone. And whatever we face in 2021, Emmanuel - God With Us - faces it with us.
How has God been present to you - God With Us - during this sacred time? As you look back (gently) on 2020, what would you like to carry into 2021? What one thing would you like to nurture?
You and God can do it together!
Much love and hope as we begin 2021,
Kim
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