Ruminations
Submitted by daniel.budd on Tue, 12/01/2009 - 3:46pm.
This past Sunday we decorated our Church for the holidays. So what's a Unitarian Church doing decorating for Christmas? Going pagan, pretty much.
I love all the green garland and wreaths and the red bows, the small glow of the candles in the windows. In Fellowship Hall is a tree with scarves and mittens adorning its branches. And I love that all these garlands and wreaths and bows and candles and trees are so pagan. They speak to me of the complexity of this holiday which draws from so many sources. Sort of like this video game where you push a ball around and collect all sorts of odds and ends (the object being to collect as much as possible). So has Christmas rolled on through the centuries, picking up this and that as it made its way to us.
As I mention in my newsletter column for December (found elsewhere on this site), even Unitarians have contributed significantly to this winter celebration. A Unitarian professor at Harvard introduced the custom of the Christmas tree to his congregation in Lexington MA in 1832. The son of a Unitarian minister wrote "Jingle Bells." Another popular carol, "It Came Upon the Midnight Clear" was written by a Unitarian minister for a Church School celebration in 1849. A few other popular Christmas songs were penned by Unitarians as well.
But perhaps the most significant contribution the Free Church has made to Christmas is the addition of what I call a "non-literalist perspective." What does that mean? It means that the nativity story from the Christian Scriptures is not a news story, not an eye-witness account. As such, you could dismiss it as just another attempt, like so many in mythology, to create an aura around a new spiritual leader by giving him a miraculous birth. But I see more than that.
The Christmas story is about how love and hope can be born in the unlikeliest of places - the manger of the human heart. Christmas invites us to find this place within us, perhaps again, and visit and rediscover the love and the hope that dwell within us, that act as a guiding star in our lives.
I hope you can find some quiet time in the midst of all the Christmas rush to search for your star. It's there; once your stillness clears away the clouds, you can glimpse it out of the corner of your eye.
I love all the green garland and wreaths and the red bows, the small glow of the candles in the windows. In Fellowship Hall is a tree with scarves and mittens adorning its branches. And I love that all these garlands and wreaths and bows and candles and trees are so pagan. They speak to me of the complexity of this holiday which draws from so many sources. Sort of like this video game where you push a ball around and collect all sorts of odds and ends (the object being to collect as much as possible). So has Christmas rolled on through the centuries, picking up this and that as it made its way to us.
As I mention in my newsletter column for December (found elsewhere on this site), even Unitarians have contributed significantly to this winter celebration. A Unitarian professor at Harvard introduced the custom of the Christmas tree to his congregation in Lexington MA in 1832. The son of a Unitarian minister wrote "Jingle Bells." Another popular carol, "It Came Upon the Midnight Clear" was written by a Unitarian minister for a Church School celebration in 1849. A few other popular Christmas songs were penned by Unitarians as well.
But perhaps the most significant contribution the Free Church has made to Christmas is the addition of what I call a "non-literalist perspective." What does that mean? It means that the nativity story from the Christian Scriptures is not a news story, not an eye-witness account. As such, you could dismiss it as just another attempt, like so many in mythology, to create an aura around a new spiritual leader by giving him a miraculous birth. But I see more than that.
The Christmas story is about how love and hope can be born in the unlikeliest of places - the manger of the human heart. Christmas invites us to find this place within us, perhaps again, and visit and rediscover the love and the hope that dwell within us, that act as a guiding star in our lives.
I hope you can find some quiet time in the midst of all the Christmas rush to search for your star. It's there; once your stillness clears away the clouds, you can glimpse it out of the corner of your eye.