Poemen said, 'Whatever hardship comes upon you, it can be overcome by silence.'
--The Desert Fathers
Wrong.
Christmas Eve is, without a doubt, the busiest day of the year in the households of, I'd say, anyone who works in a church. Since both my parents work in churches, Christmas Eve has always been the stressful, "don't push your mother's buttons" day of the year. Bon Air has three services on Christmas Eve - the "children and families" service at 5pm, the evening service at 7pm, and the candlelight service at 11pm. Not to mention participating in the Living Nativity when I was in youth group. I would be a shepherd so I'd get to play with the baby goats. It used to be that my family didn't eat dinner on Christmas Eve--there simply wasn't time. Then another family in the church realized we didn't eat on Christmas Eve and made us food for several years. Let's not even mention the years when Christmas Eve is on a Sunday. Now, things are slightly less busy, but I'm still heading over to church around 4:30 to bring my mother some dinner. I have no responsibilities for the 7pm service, but at 11pm I'm serving communion (YAY!) and reading scripture (also yay!). I'm not singing as of yet, but we still have... 8 hours for my mother to say, "Epworth's singing this song that you've sung before, sing with the altos."
But in the craziness, I love it. It's a familiar crazy that returns every year.
When I was in New York last week, I was walking along Broadway and happened to pass the church I attend there. I noticed that the doors were open and the doorman was out front. He's usually only there for services, he's not around just when the church building is open (and it wasn't visiting hours at that time), so I crossed the street to see what was going on. He saw me coming, yelled, "YOU'RE BACK!" and gave me a huge hug. He asked if I was coming inside. I asked what was going on, and he told me it was the church school's Christmas pageant. So I went on in and watched. Adorable.
We sang along with the hymns, and when we reached "Silent Night", this incredible feeling of peace came over me, and I realized it's because I'm used to singing "Silent Night" at the near-end of the 11pm Christmas Eve service. By that time, it's technically Christmas Day... midnight has passed, the lights in the church have been turned off and everyone in the church holds a lit candle as we sing this song. It's a beautiful, quiet, tender moment before the organ lets loose and the lights come up and we boisterously belt out "Joy to the World". If there is ever a moment in my life that is still, it is this moment on Christmas Eve/Morn. It's the moment where all tremors cease. And it's just a moment. Only a moment, out of all the days of the year, but sometimes it's just those brief moments that we need, especially in this busy time. A moment, to remember, to reconnect, to remember why we do all of this. Because the point of all of this is Christ.
More on that tomorrow.
There are moments in our lives, there are moments in a day, when we seem to see beyond the usual--become clairvoyant. We reach then into reality. Such are the moments of our greatest happiness. Such are the moments of our greatest wisdom.
--The Art Spirit
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