When my elder son Ian Irving married the love of his life, Marites Mutia, they deferred their honeymoon until towards December as they planned a European month-long jaunt. They looked forward to frolic in the snow, you see. Youthful dreams of two love-struck newlyweds. A few days before Christmas, we had them back, full of exuberant tales of sights seen and adventures experienced.
Still, the newlyweds came home to be with family for Christmas. That is what Christmas is all about, among us Christians — a homecoming; the spiritual peregrination that ends with loved ones – despite the commercialism that the season has attained in these times. Certain things abide.
Sure, Christmas in Germany will be the Christmas card version, or that of Charles Dicken’s England or even the Disneyland fantasy most kids – and kids at heart – hold dear. Yet, nothing can compare to the chilly dawn awakenings we find ourselves at this time, when the Misa de Gallo beckons through the carillon of church bells. Neither the fragrance of Yule logs crackling its cheer nor the sparkle of the flurries, not even the temptation of the season’s plum puddings or Stollens can hold their own to our version of Christmastime.
Christmas is a celebration of hope. It is a time to be happy, no matter what. Out of the gloom of the past and present, we peel our lives to get to the inner strength in each of us. We show our children, and our children’s children, that we draw our strength in the trust that our God is a God Who does not abandon His people because one night, over 2,000 years ago, He became Man to partake of our humanity. He has gifted us with dignity and a life beyond death for which to aspire. And this is the essence of Christmas.
I therefore wish you all a significant Christmas this year. Let the season be one of kind thoughts and selfless giving. For Christmas is hollow if we keep it to ourselves; it sparkles when we make others smile; it is magnified when the little act of kindness we do lights up the existence of another. Especially at this time when the giving of what we have may mean a deprivation of what we want. That makes Christmas significant. Every time.
As you make that journey back home, to be with your loved ones, may you find at your destination the inimitable fulfillment in the embrace of your loved one, in the kiss of the little one, and in the blessing of the oldest family member.
The Christmas journey we make each year in December is likewise a pilgrimage into our personhood, patching the cracks we find along the way, hammering into a better semblance the chinks at the corners of our beings, cupping silence to ensconce our battered heart.
Have yourself a Merry, Merry Christmas, my dear readers!