O res mirabilis

 I love Christmas carols. The ones that Marge Simpson described as “weird and religious-y” that sing about God and angels and baby Jesus in the manger.  The ones that tell of the Christmas story and the miracle of that night. The ones that, sadly, don’t often make it into the rotation on the radio.  Because of them I really love the liturgy for the 12 days of Christmas (which begin December 26 - the day after Christmas, and end on January 6, the feast of the Epiphany or the Day of the Kings). 

Christmas Eve Mass begins with a carol concert, which includes all sorts of songs. Like, Gabriel’s message with its haunting melody; Handel’s Messiah often features, with For Unto us a Child is Born, singing the beautiful words from Isaiah, which form part of the readings of the Christmas Eve mass (the vigil or midnight mass).  Often, the opening hymn is Adeste Fideles or O Come All Ye Faithful which is, in its own words, “joyful and triumphant.”  That describes so many of my favourite carols.   They are unabashedly full of joy and triumph. It’s really the only time of the year that we openly celebrate life. The carols sing of joy, gaiety, happiness, wonder and awe. We sing of peace, glorifying God (even on secular music channels, some carols are regularly played. Not many, nor often, but still.). 

The Christmas story is retold every year, and each time there’s a new element that becomes the focus. The futile search for a room at the inn is popular, and often begins a discussion of homelessness, or immigration, or refugees.  The shepherds watching the flocks precede talks on welcoming the underdog, or of accepting those on the fringe of society.  The magi (who don’t actually arrive for at least a year) are spoken of as the stranger in our midst, seeking acceptance or the seekers after truth.  Not to mention the immense volumes of legends that talk of the seeming crowds of people who visited an anonymous couple with a baby in a windowless cave in a town that was “least of all in Judaea”  I mean, really, there are lovely legends of the first Christmas rose, which was provided as a gift to one who went to visit the baby but who had nothing to offer,  Or the holly, the ivy, the Christmas tree itself... two thousand years of tales, practices and adaptations lead to many, many legends!  Yes, many of them are Pagan in origin, but that doesn’t detract from their beauty or truth. 

This year, it occurs to me to focus on the deep diversity of the story. It’s a tale of immigrants who moved to a new place because of political issues (the census ordered by Augustus Caesar) who faced a housing crunch, and who relied on the kindness of strangers. Then there are the visitors- human and angelic - who come to visit them.  The visitors range from wealthy, powerful men, to the dregs of humanity. They are all welcome. The news was shared first with society’s outcasts, then others came to see the baby, and finally came the magi, who were wealthy scholars and astronomers who had been studying the signs for many years. One legend says that there were generations of men watching the skies for the sign that would tell of the coming. They were welcomed into the halls of power until it became clear that they sought a different power and then they were seen as tools for its destruction. 

The carols remind us of all of these things.  We sing of Once in Royal David’s City; While Shepherds watched their flocks; O Little Town of Bethlehem; It Came upon a Midnight Clear; the First Noel; Sleep little Jesus; All men poor and humble; We Three Kings; O Holy Night, Gloria in excelsis... and many more. My favourite is O Holy Night, a carol I remember learning when I was maybe 5 or 6, and even at that age, it swept me away to that long ago night in a windowless cave. A feeling that was reinforced when I visited Bethlehem on pilgrimage and Fr. Brennan sang it at the cave. Not in the immense and beautiful Church of the Nativity, which is grandiose and awe inspiring, but in a cave “like the one they might have used.”

But as inspirational as that is, the most joyful carol is Joy to the World, with its clamouring shout of that opening Joy!  Compare that to the beautiful lullaby sounds of Silent Night, which touches on a different aspect of the story. 

Who could be angry at happiness?  I’m going to skip all the arguments about the fakery of Christmas, that it’s really pagan, and that it’s non biblical. Yes, the church adopted and adapted various practices.  I’m sure that early celebrations were more pagan than Christian, until some groups (like the Puritans) decided that celebrating Christ’s birth was sinful and cancelled Christmas for a hundred or more years. (Their obsession with witches is another of their problems!). Once again, if you don’t celebrate, then that’s your choice, and I pity you for missing an opportunity to share joy with your neighbours. Even if Christmas with all the presents, shopping, perfect preparations is not your thing (it isn’t mine!) spending time with the people you love is definitely a worthwhile undertaking.   It’s a fabulous thing to share joy with others, and even more when you contemplate that the reason for celebrating is the birth of a baby. 

Let’s pick out a few carols and belt them out loudly for Christmas  remembering all that is light and good in the world and share it around   Merry Christmas!