Friday, December 13, 2002|
We are a people in search of light. We light our homes, our cities, our streets. We bring things to light, light up when we're happy, try to become enlightened, treasure candlelight, firelight, lighthouses, and, in the end, go toward the light. We fear the dark. We think of the Dark Ages as a time of ignorance and squalor. Dark tales are unhappy, unnatural, the hiding place of those who would harm us. Criminals hide in dark places, cockroaches scurry from the light, evil things live in the dark under rocks and monsters only come out from under the bed in the dark of night. In the dark, we are left with our senses, our fears and our imagination. Our ancient ancestors knew darkness. When night came, there were no street lights, no flashlights. The fireplace and the torch were all there was. The beast was unseen, waiting beyond the fire's light. Our helplessness against the dark became allegorical. Even today we tell stories of powerful dark forces arrayed against the forces of good. Our fear of the dark, is really a fear of ourselves, a fear of the darker, more passionate impulses and feelings we all have. We close our eyes but we don't cease to be. In the dark we can be our secret selves. So it seems no surprise that Christmas was set at the time of the winter solstice. The days, having gotten progressively shorter, darker, are now starting to reverse their course. There isn't a shred of evidence to suggest that December 25th was the date of Jesus' birth, but it seems an apt time for celebration. All of this is by way of wondering, yet again, what place Christmas has in the mind and spirit of a non-believer. I don't go to church anymore, not even on Christmas Eve. I love the music and the candle light, the contemplative mood. It's just the theology that doesn't ring true for me. The value of Christmas, the value of the season, is to celebrate the light in each of us. Christians, Jews and Muslims have been all too willing to shed each other's blood in the name of "truth". That, alone, makes all the seasonal good will suspect. The hectic, hysterical greed that drives the season in the U.S., makes it difficult to take seriously any claims of holiness. But I drive down the streets and see houses lit up, winking at passersby, welcoming neighbors and strangers alike, lighting our path. The lights on the houses aren't for the owners inside (except for competitive, vain, and probably greedy people), but for those of us outside. Christmas is a time for light. Hanukka is a festival of lights. Ramadan ends when the first light of the crescent moon reappears. We are about light.
Stepping away from the commercialism, this ex-Christian finds beauty and spirituality and a sense of peace in the lights of the holiday and in the light that, sometimes, shines from us all. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. |
Last update: 7/12/04; 13:17:17 .
