Saturday Speaks: Holiday Cheer

I'm one of those dorks who actually appreciates hearing people say, "Merry Christmas," to one another. The wish itself just brings a sort of hot cocoa at home with Mom and Dad kind of feeling. So, the best thing I heard this week were all the holiday greetings from my loved ones... those I could not see sent me messages or called... and that made my day resemble more closely my ideal Christmas.

Worst thing? This pounding in my head and back... surviving the holiday only to get sick. Bah.

Friday Sabbath: A Christmas Story

This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.

It was not intentional that she didn't say anything to him as he walked out the door. This was not his fault, she knew that. The words just weren't coming to mind. She was unaware of her shallow breathing, her body the only part of her still grasping for life. She stood at the kitchen counter, frozen in her motivation- whatever it was. Did she come in here for juice? To put the cereal away? She couldn't remember. All she could think of was the hole inside of her now emptied of the purpose that recently wakened her spirit.

But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins."

She realized she should have gone with him. She always had everyday before this one. Some sensible thought tried breaking through the intense sadness covering her. Shouldn't she be counting her blessings? She turned to the fridge to get the juice.

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: "The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel"—which means, "God with us."

The phone startled her. She faltered for a moment over cleaning the droplets of juice or picking up the phone. She grabbed a paper towel as she made her way to the telephone and held on to the receiver. "I know what you're doing," she heard her friend say. "How could you know?" she answered while wiping the counter. "I know how you get when you're upset. Look, it's not that I'm not sorry that this has happened to you, but it happens, and it could be worse." "Don't tempt Gd, looking at how things could be worse." "Fine... you are still pretty lucky."

When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. But he had no union with her until she gave birth to a son. And he gave him the name Jesus.

The door opened and she hung up. Her husband had returned home with their son after retrieving him from school. At the sight of her little boy, oxygen filled her lungs. The sadness seemed to shrink moderately to disappointment. Her only child's eyes shone with that most innocent of loves... the kind that knows nothing of the potential for mistrust, jealousy, or loss. All he knows is this overwhelming warmth and security. She wanted to bury her face in his blissful ignorance. She came to her knees, held out her arms, and the boy ran into her with laughter. As she held him, her husband placed his large palm on the back of her skull which seemed to remind her to think about spaces within her that were still filled.

(Verses taken from Matthew 18-25, KJV)

Thursday Kitchen: Christmas Eve Dinner

For several years now, my mother's family has held our Christmas celebration on Christmas Eve. I think this started sometime after Grandma died to compensate for spousal sides of family. I think when Grandma was still with us, we all saw each other on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day for church and dinner. All of us meant more people than it does now, too... a cousin has abandoned us and some of my other cousins work or have other obligations during family time. Now it's dinner Christmas Eve and brunch Christmas morning.

I think it's this lack of her that also changed our menu over the years.

As I've mentioned before, we always have stuffing at these end of the year dinners... but, tonight, we had a soup and salad evening. There were three kinds of soup: potato, chili, and Brunswick stew. It is cold outside, so, I'm not really complaining. It's a simple alteration to food options... maybe even healthier. The aunts are a little more conscientious of their diets than they were when we were younger. That's fine...

...but it reminds me of the hole in the heart of my family.

One of the few things that remains the same is my aunt's sugar cookies. She's been making them for most holidays as long as I can remember. She chooses the appropriate shape of cookie cutter which ranges from Easter eggs to bats to Christmas trees. I remember these cookies in particular because they're not just any sugar cookies. My aunt makes this amazing, light frosting... it's a lemon flavor, sweet and tart. It's always been among my favorites.

But, I guess not everything has to stay the same. One of our new Christmas traditions since we lost my grandmother includes a recipe given to me by a dear friend's mother. I've made it so many times now that I can pour the juices by heart. It's an old recipe for a special, hot Christmas punch called Wassail (Yes, that references that carol you might have sung in choir: Wassail, Wassail, All over the town, Our toast it is white, And our ale it is brown, Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree, With a wassailing bowl we'll drink to thee.) My cousins drink seconds, thirds, and sometimes fourth cups of wassail. It's expected. That's a nice feeling...

...because, in this way, I've sort of turned into my grandmother. I can't tell them how to make it. I lost the recipe a long time ago. I just eyeball the portions and simmer the juices with spices. When my grandmother was asked to write down her stuffing recipe, she did, but with difficulty. She also just "eyeballed" the portions and had trouble putting measurements to her recipe. To this day, we still can't make it like she did. I guess, if I depart from her habits, I'll at least teach one of my younger cousins, and/or maybe their kids, how to make the wassail by making it with someone several times. It's not as complicated as stuffing, but it's a touch-and-go process that might need a little repetition to commit to memory.

I'm contented and even excited about new additions to our menu... but the omissions remind me strongly of what is missing. She's been gone for12 years since December 15th... the quietest, saddest Christmas of my life. We sat in her living room, as we had every year before then, openned gifts, and looked around the house rather than at one another. We were remembering previous Christmases, making a mental map of a place we knew would never be the same... a place that would, in weeks, start to lose its pictures, furniture, and scent.

I miss her so much tonight.

I know I'm not the only one looking around at a Christmas tonight that, no matter how merry, will never be the same. May we all find peace in the old traditions, the new additions, and shared memories that keep our loved ones alive.

Wednesday Valuables: Christmas Spirit

I'm thinking of an older time... a time when my responsibilities included school and maybe some laundry. I spent most of my days with a boy, a boy who would stay in my life for a decade and help to shape many of the parts of me that would become permanent in my adulthood. When Christmas rolled around, we had a very busy day. Early morning with my mother, lunch with my step-father's mother, dinner with his mother, friends and coffee at moments in between, a late Christmas drink and a chance to play with new toys at the end of the day with my folks... it was a lot of driving, a lot of food, a lot of hugging and wishing for a good new year.

Frankly, I miss those days.

There was something magical about seeing so many people I cared about in one day. I saw my family, his family, my closest friends, and all of that with him, the person I loved most at the time. He hated Christmas... for the very reasons I loved it. He didn't like the driving, the back and forth, the visiting with so many people... but he humored me anyway... and there's something that was always magical about that willingness, too.

I like the idea of seeing as many of the people I love as I can. Without permission, if I could, I would see: Mom, Daddy, Johnah, Clif, Jaci, Corey, Marc, Paul, Jeanette, Judy, Paul, Kenny, Uncle Philip, Anne, Uncle John, Anya, Dennis, Lilia, Jude, Kat, my pen pal and her family, Tristan, Robin, Ada, Schuyler, Lucy, Stacy, Georgia, Jay, Beth, Johanna, Charley, Miles, Caro, Mike, Gandolf, Jude, Amy, Edie, Joanne, Meredith, Silvia, Claes, Erielle, Louis, Bruno, Joyce, Jerusha, Norah, Micah, Gabriel, Victor, Signora, Judy, Ron, Phil, Arlene, Melissa, Dan, Audrey, Ralph, Andy, Papa, Valeria, Dina, Grandma B, Grandpa B, Mike, Davie, Kerry, Kristen, Josh, Jacob, Diane, Tom, Doris, John, Lauren, Brian, Eric, Micheal, Lane, Mister Millionaire, Ginger, Jennifer, and Joe. That makes me lucky I suppose... that if there were no issues, no distances, no time-consuming obligations, I would want to take a whole day to make my way to all the doors of the people above... to say that I love you, wish the best for you, and carry you in my heart all the days of the year. It may seem that, with this many people, my heart would burst... but it seems to me that more space is created, more openness, more hope.

I'd like to think that this is the point. The love. The thing that connects you to other people. The inexplicable emotion that reminds you who it is that has made you who you are, that causes desire for contact, for knowing, for being outside of yourself. These are the people that you care to know all those specific, seemingly mundane things... How are you? No, really? Are you happy? Amused? Abused? Wishing like hell you were anywhere but here? I want to know... it has nothing to do with myself, but I want to know. I need to know. I need to be aware. To care about your life, your thoughts, your considerations, no matter what.

Yes, the gifts will remind many of us that many people know us, know what we like, take the time to ponder our interests. But, plenty of people full of adoration and influence don't have the knack for gift giving, for offering something to you that says more than they can on their own by their actions. Those people knew what you needed when you were ill, crazy, sad, etc... or the ones with the courage to be themselves so that you could also bring out your most authentic Self.

I'm not one of those people who can emphasize on the birth of Christ this time of year... but I do see the creation of love, tremendous love, all over the map of my existence, and I am grateful to look back, know where I've been, and see that, with all the ground covered, all the fellow travellers, I'm bound to make it wherever I'm going. The story of Jesus is one of the best love stories I've ever heard, truly, and that's why it's the love, rather than the man, that I am fortunate enough to drown in on this day... to have this point on the calendar that reminds me to think of all of you, to renew my love, to be glad to be me, to know you, to care that you're you when I'm me, and to be where I am.

Love one another. Be at peace. Be with those you love... in the heart if not the body, and know how lucky you are.

Tuesday Favorites: The Star of Bethlehem

(from http://www.edupics.com)

What I suddenly love about Christmas are the astronomical questions the holiday raises. I've been reading through my Astronomy magazine and I've discovered that scientists have actually tried to find the Star of Bethlehem mentioned in the Gospel of Matthew. Does the following passage sound familiar?

Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem, saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him. When Herod the king had heard these things, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. And when he gathered all the chief priests and scribes of the people together, he demanded of them where Christ should be born.
And they say unto him, In Bethlehem of Judea: for thus it is written by the prophet, And thou Bethlehem, in the land of Juda, art not the least among the princes of Juda: for out of thee shall come a Governor, that shall rule my people Israel. Then Herod, when he had privily called the wise men, enquired of them diligently what time the star appeared. And he sent them to Bethlehem, and said, Go and search diligently for the young child; and when ye have found him, bring me word again, that I may come and worship him also. When they had heard the king, they departed; and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding joy.
(from Matthew 2: 1-10)

Well, if that's not familiar, surely you've heard the carol Do You Hear What I Hear? It references "A star, a star, dancing in the night with a tail as big as a kite..."

Astronomers and historian have speculated as to whether or not this star existed. What could it have been? Was it just shameless propaganda? Matthew is the only gospel writer who discusses this star. Did he write about it to fulfill the prophecy mentioned in The Old Testament? In Numbers 24:17, one reads, " I shall see him, but not now: I shall behold him, but not nigh: there shall come a Star out of Jacob, and a Sceptre shall rise out of Israel..." Most historians seem to feel that Matthew would not have made up a star, so, astronomers have assembled a handful of contenders for the actual Star of Bethlehem.

It was once suggested that the star of Bethlehem was a comet. Some rare comets can be visible in the sky over the course of several days to several months. However, historians find the cultural context of the age substantial enough to dispute this possibility. Since ancient times, comets were perceived as omens for impending disaster. Therefor, it is doubtful that Matthew would have referred to a comet when describing the scene in which the Saviour of the World was to be born. So much for that Christmas carol... it's doubtful this star had a "tail as big as a kite."

How about a supernova? The article tells the reader of one such dying star that became visible in 1054. Stargazers were able to observe the event (which created what we now see as the Crab Nebula) for two years with the naked eye. For three weeks, during its maximum brightness, people could see this supernova during the daylight hours. Still, astronomers feel that this is also an unlikely possibility due to the fact that this celestial event is only recorded in Matthew's Gospel. They find it implausible that Eastern astrologers, particularly the Chinese, would have failed to record something as remarkable as a star bright enough to be seen during the day. The earliest recorded supernova event dates to 185 A.D. by the Chinese. A little late to refer to the birth of Christ...

...Which was when, by the way? Wouldn't that be useful in trying to dig through history for a mysterious star event? There is probably no way to know when Jesus was born, but historians have tried to narrow it down. According to Luke's Gospel, "...there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night." Such a harmless little line... but it marks a specific moment in a shepherd's work routine. December and January are rainy and cold seasons in Bethlehem and sheep are kept in corrals. No need to "watch" them. It is during the spring months, February through April, when spring lambs are born and shepherds watch their flocks during the evenings.

Are you wondering then, as a side note, why we celebrate Christmas on December 25th? I have many opinions on that matter, but, simply, Pope Julius I proclaimed the date for the commemoration of Jesus' birth in 350 A.D. It seems he based this on the once common belief that Jesus' Incarnation happened on March 25... December 25th being 9 months later. He may have had other reasons, too, since he moved it from the original January 6th date. The day he eventually choose coincides with a non-Christian festival called Sol Invictus (the sun's birthday). Perhaps trying to bring back the emphasis on the Festival of Christ...

So, back to Jesus' birthday...

Luke also mentions that Joseph and Mary were traveling to Bethlehem during tax season. Archaeologists of the early 1900s discovered tax records that may refer to this specific moment in history. This and the context surrounding Herod's lifetime suggest that Jesus was possibly born in spring or summer between 8 B.C. and 2 B.C.

This information leads us to early astrologers' records. In late May of 7 B.C., Jupiter passed Saturn, for the first time of which we can know, three times. A celestial event of this kind is referred to as a triple conjunction and it occurred in the Pisces constellation. This is intriguing information due to the superstitions of ancient people. Jupiter was seen as a royal star (since they did not realize that it was a planet simply reflecting light) and therefor named after the king of the ancient gds. Saturn also had a special significance, seen as the symbolic protector of the Mediterranean peoples. If that was not enough, unusual star movements occurring in Pisces were viewed as signals for important events occurring on earth. This event would have happened in the eastern sky, linking the location of this event to the words of Matthew's story.

There are a couple more guesses concerning the identity of "the real" star of Bethlehem that all lean toward planetary sky dances during the last several years of B.C. Evidence like this reminds me of interviews with authors and poets... learning about the little truths from their personal lives that link to the events in their written works. I find it fascinating and maybe encouraging that, whatever you believe, there's a shred of truth in many, many stories.

The picture below was taken in September of this year of Jupiter shining brighter than all the stars of a mostly clear sky. You can't miss it - it's the brightest, largest orb in the sky scene... twinkling over the Mediterranean. There's something calming and hopeful in a picture like this... you can see why it stood out to people in search of peace in tough times. May we find that peace we've been hoping for... someday.

(from http://antwrp.gsfc.nasa.gov/apod/ap090907.html)

Monday Review: Christmas Music

Among traditional activities in which we engage to celebrate the holidays, I enjoy listening to the music of the winter season. I don't usually play Christmas music until after Hanukkah (save on the years when the holidays overlap). That way, the carols won't get old before Christmas. As you well know, people start playing Christmas music as early as the day after Halloween in the stores to get us all in mind of spending money on each other. I close my ears or talk on the phone in those places... I like the usual carols, and I don't want to wear them out to the point where I'm rolling my eyes at every familiar note.

Tonight, Anya and I ventured out into the cold to attend the Virginia Choral Society concert at Trinity Lutheran Church in Newport News (the church in which I was raised). I don't attend their performances every year, but I like to try and see some live performance in December. A friend of ours was singing in the choir, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity to hear some old favorite songs.

It's a decent choir. Only with the cooperation and dedication of a large group of people can you achieve this sort of sound that makes your bones rattle and your skin prick with emotion. The first half of the concert featured predominantly lovely, sacred pieces. They sang an arrangement of The First Noel combined with Pachabel's Canon that was quite beautiful. I've always been mystified by people who can hear such different tunes separately and know that, with some tweaking, the melodies will harmonize. It was a striking sound, a moving carol.

This carol also asks of the choir to sing very high very softly... and this choir is good at that. Aside from one or two sort of badly chosen songs, my only complaint about this choir would be their loud high notes... they need to stick to the soft stuff. Their emotive power greatly exceeds their clarity at higher volumes.

They sang a very strange song about Mary... "rockin' her baby..." which was really just odd. The composer obviously refused to make up his mind as to whether or not he wanted a powerful choir piece or a soulful jazz number. However, not all the secular carols were corny or badly written. One song, Merry Christmas to Me, actually made me laugh out loud. The lyrics are written from the point of view of a modern child making a Christmas list... wanting things like a pinball machine and a cellular phone... not wanting things like pajamas or socks. At one part of the song, the entire choir sings through kazoos. It was amusing.

The second half of the program featured mostly these sorts of silly Christmas songs... so I was disappointed that they chose to end the program with a slow, boring song. While the sound they made by surrounding the audience and belting out their final notes was fantastic, it didn't make up for the whole humdrum tune.

Overall, it was a good concert and I'm not disappointed that this was what I saw for my annual live Christmas performance.

~~~

Speaking of Christmas music, we all have our favorite albums... the ones we play every year while wrapping gifts or cleaning up for a family dinner. Below I'm listing my own current favorites at this moment... and I'd like to know what albums the rest of you are enjoying.

5. James Taylor, James Taylor at Christmas
James Taylor wrote one of my all-time favorite songs, Close Your Eyes. Naturally, I was excited to receive his Christmas album some years ago. He has his own sound but he keeps his arrangements simple which just contributes to the lasting brilliance of the songs as well as his obvious talent.

4. Billy Gilman, Classic Christmas
I, in no way whatever, pollute my surroundings with country music. However, I adore little Billy. Billy Gilman's Christmas album was recorded when he was 12 years old... and he's very, very impressive for a young boy. He has so much character and just bursts with... well, it's a "joyful noise," for lack of a better phrase. You can tell he smiles when he works. His carols are very classic and stay pretty far from the twanging nightmare of country music. He sings a duet with Charlotte Church (Sleigh Bells) and blows her out of the water with his personality.

3. Sarah McLachlan, Wintersong
I'm not a huge fan of Sarah McLachlan... in fact, her Christmas album is the only one that she has made that I own. But, this album is truly a thing of beauty. Her rendition of First Noel is haunting, her secular carols thoughtful and moving, and her lullabye tone makes for a calm, quiet Christmas evening with hot cocoa and a full day of good memories. It's just a great album.

2. Loreena McKennitt, A Midwinter Night's Dream
Admittedly, this lady could sing numbers from the phone book and I'd probably still want to listen... but, like McLachlan, this is just a gorgeous collection of Christmas songs. McKennitt's voice also lends itself to the emotive power that makes the magic of winter carols. Her song choices tend toward old tunes that transport you to an old Celtic fairy world. She includes selections like The Holly and the Ivy and The Seven Rejoices of Mary. If you're interested in that more old fashioned sound, this collection provides it.

1. Tori Amos, Midwinter Graces
This album just came out this year... and this may seem like Tori is finally selling out, but this is not your typical Christmas album. That's probably why I like it so much... the tunes are familiar, but it's still Tori being her fabulous, weird self. She mixes and matches her old tunes with more contemporary ones... leaning far enough into a genre to which I think her voice and attitude are perfectly suited. In a song called Pink and Glitter, she performs with a 1940s jazz siren sound. It's a great song that keeps you in the mood for the holidays without cramming the figgy pudding down your throat.

May all your holiday sounds be pleasing songs...

Sunday Reflections: What do I do without you?

(from http://farm1.static.flickr.com)

I'm back from my week off from writing... but, it doesn't feel like it's been a full week to me. I guess days go by faster during the congestion of the winter holidays. For those of you who read this blog with any regularity, I appreciate your effort and hope not to disappoint as I write through Christmas and up until new year (Come on, 2010... I'm over 2009 already!) before changing formats.

So, what did I do with myself while not writing in this blog?

Honestly, as you may have guessed, I was a little sick for parts of it... not deathly ill, but, not enjoying the cold and snow. Well, okay - I'm a Virginian, so, snow is great... to look at through the window from inside your apartment. During both snowfalls this past week, I had to venture out into the evening and run errands and make visits. While I'm a decent driver, cautious but not in the way of other motorists' confidence, I did not like squinting through the falling white dust, my windshield wipers somewhat useless against the downpour- or trying to predict if those shiny spots on the road were just moisture or patches of ice.

On a more pleasant note, during this break I had a chance to read a book to which I had been anxiously looking forward... there's something about cold weather that puts me in the mood for "classics," or, rather Victorian or early 1900s literature. THE AGE OF INNOCENCE by Edith Wharton reeks of sophisticated sarcasm and delicate, thoughtful emotion. She was the first female writer to win The Pulitzer Prize and she won by obeying the rules and breaking them simultaneously. Here was a women writing about forward-thinking while minding her P's and Q's about love and sex. It was a cozy and moving read. The book club discussed it during our seasonal meeting making the book even more enjoyable. I will miss reading books with friends after the club disperses across the states, with hope that we will still keep each other up to date on what we're reading, and what we're liking and hating about our solo book choices.

I spent some time with a dear friend I see so infrequently... we had a whole day to bash around and do some holiday shopping (I was relatively productive). I've missed having my writer-pal to talk to about our work, our methods, our new ideas. I'm fortunate to know someone I trust with my hopes for future projects... she's given me a reason to look forward to summer no matter where either of us lives by then. It's great to have another writer in my world to hold me accountable for my work... and vice versa.

I started Julie Powell's latest memoir entitled CLEAVING. She discovers that she has this passion for artisan butchery while her marriage survives an illicit love affair. It's much darker than her first published work, but I think she's maintaining her cleverness and self-awareness. There are few lines between her need to learn butchery and her desire to be with this other man. She's able to look at these seemingly disparate obsessions and figure out where it puts her on the path of her personal life journey. Get upset about the implications of writing about adultery, (as the adulteress), if you want to waste your time with that... she's not you and you're not her and her marriage was made with a different material than many others. A lot of us see adultery as a reason to split... maybe Powell had believed that as well... but, some people take that whole "for better or for worse thing" pretty seriously. That's not license to do whatever you damn well please, but, if you have the love, maybe that transcends certain mistakes (I'm not talking about the run of the mill asshole who never loved you in the first place and has been cheating on you ever since he met you... I mean someone who loves you and had a personal lapse that drove him or her to do something hurtful). I doubt I have the strength of character to make it through "the cheating game," but, I hope someday I can look back and say that I had the love to try and make it. I'm enjoying Powell's process of working through... herself.

I have a whole week of little holiday activities planned... from finishing a few homemade gifts to seeing friends coming home from out of town to having family time with my whole family (including the best of friends that became family over the years). I hope it will be a fun and heartwarming week for us all.