As we approach these next few days leading to the 24th of December maybe we will be thinking about who is not able to be with us. That may be a relative living at a distance unable to travel through Covid restrictions. As frustrating as this separation is – we get the logic because we see there are miles between us. In a way we are able to reconcile the separation because of that physical distance.
Others are near but shielding. There is an unfortunate reality about shielding in that the purpose is to shield from the virus but the practice means to stay away from people. The people we love. We may not be able to sit with or share a gathering with a next door neighbour or mother two streets away over Christmas because of shielding.
In early December I took part in a Tree of Light ceremony. This was a way for folk across our town to join together in an act of remembrance. I saw the faces of people whose relatives I had earlier in the year conducted the funerals of. Our towns mayor read a most familiar poem a line of which goes, ‘A time to be born and a time to die…’ we were gathered to think of those who had moved through birth and beyond death. I remember thinking that they are now shielded — free of the restriction of the body, free to move in the mystery of timelessness.
At the Tree of Light Ceremony I scanned the crowd for a dear friend and his wife who I knew intended to join us as they thought of a brother they had lost. I didn’t see them. Later in the evening I had a message, ‘Sorry Rob I had to skip the ceremony’. Attached was a beautiful picture of just born Theo their first grandchild. There is indeed a ‘A time to be born.’
Christmas is of course more than a nice story of a birth. One writer put the Christmas story like this, ‘In the beginning was the Word (Jesus), and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. In Jesus was life, and that life was the light of all humanity. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.’
With our eyes we can look into each others life and find light or we can cast our mind on the memories of those not present physically and reflect on the light they shone whilst near us. Most days I think of my father, departed over twenty years now, yet in some strange way he is very present in the DNA of my own life.
Maybe if we find ourselves on Christmas day dwelling on who is not at the table we might look at who is. Remember the baby in a manger (light of all humanity) grew up and after death and resurrection said, ‘I am with you always…’ We are never truly alone never truly in the dark.
Allow me to share this blessing with you:
May you know the constant presence of God and the power of eternal love
Might your days be increasingly filled with hope, faith and, forgiveness
As you walk through life may you find joy at the end of every sorrow
May each misunderstanding end in understanding
And may the blessing of God be found in each face you see as you explore the mystery that is life beyond measure.
Rob Wykes 