I usually love Christmas. I love the decorations, the baking, making or shopping for the right Christmas gifts. I love the lead up to the day, reflecting on the age old traditions of the Christian church. For Christians, the season of Advent leading up to Christmas is one of preparation, of anticipation of the hope, love, joy and peace of the season, and the birth of the Prince of Peace. Even for people who do not celebrate the religious aspects of the season, there is a sense of excitement and anticipation. The decorations, the lights, especially in big cities, the special events, all create the “holiday spirit” with which we are so familiar in our society.
This year, however, I am struggling with the idea of Christmas. Instead of feeling hopeful and joyful, the overwhelming realities of our world are causing me to feel despair. News broadcasts bring stories of violence, poverty, and now, daily, the horrifying and distressing news out of Aleppo, where civilians broadcast their goodbyes via social media in the wake of the violent war there.
Last year, Syria and the plight of its refugees was very much in the forefront of the news, and in my life. I posted here about the efforts of my town to sponsor a Syrian family. We were excited and busy with preparations for our family. Since then, we have welcomed two families to our community. But a year ago, Syria, the refugees, and the realities of the world were still very abstract and faceless. It was something that was happening somewhere else, and did not affect us personally.
A year later, and the story has become so much more personal. Now I know people who lived in Aleppo and Syria, who fled their homes and arrived in Sackville with all of their worldly possessions in four suitcases, whose family and friends have also fled their homes, have died, have drowned in the Mediterranean. The situation in Syria is not so abstract any more, because now it is the story of real people with faces and names that I have come to know and love.
Yesterday, I decided to start some Christmas baking, and I turned on some Christmas music. One of my favourite albums is Steve Bell’s “The Feast of Seasons.” On it, he sings “I Heard the Bells.” It has never been one of my favourite Christmas carols, but today, with thoughts of Syria not far away, I found myself listening and appreciating it so much more than I ever have before, especially when I heard:
And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"
I had to stop what I was doing when I heard that. It sums everything up for me right now. Longfellow wrote the poem on which this carol is based during the American Civil War. His son had been horribly injured, and his wife had died tragically. He felt deep despair, maybe similar to what I am feeling.
We have been at this crossroad before in recent history. Bosnia. Rwanda. The Holocaust. All situations where hate was strong enough to prevail. In all of those cases, “The World,” the powers-that-be, the politicians and diplomats and military forces, had the knowledge and the power to stop what was coming. They did not, however, have the will. I fear that it is the same with Syria and Aleppo now. Many people have opined over the past few days that Aleppo will become another name synonymous with Bosnia and Rwanda, yet another moment in history that will mark the failure of The World to avert catastrophe. We, The World, had the opportunity to avoid this. We chose not to.
I wish I were powerful enough that I could intervene in Syria and in other places in the world that are ruled by hatred and violence. I wish I were rich enough to make a difference in the lives of all who are refugees and displaced persons. I am neither. I am an ordinary person, in an ordinary town, with a pretty ordinary life. The fact that there are nations and people who do have the ability to make a difference, but choose not to, fills me with despair.
And yet, in the midst of despair, there are signs of hope. The two families that our community has sponsored to date have brought so much joy to those of us who have had the privilege of getting to know them. Our lives have been changed by their presence, and I am a better person for knowing them. Their hope and faith in their search for a better future give me hope.
There are young adults all around me who are engaged, both globally and locally. Only yesterday, my BFF’s youngest son celebrated a short but very successful fundraising venture for cancer research by shaving his head when the goal of $15,000 was reached (he actually raised almost $16,500, and donations are still coming in). My daughter is passionate about social justice, and is searching to find the right career path for her to work with children or young adults who are somehow disadvantaged. My son wants to coach high school football and be a teacher, and influence children in one of the most profound ways. Our university students are learning and sharing about the issues of our world, and I hear the passion in their voices as they discuss and argue and set out, determined to change their world. They bring me hope with their lofty ideals and their awareness of the world and what is wrong in it.
Yesterday, my daughter and I packed bags for our town’s Christmas Cheer programme. The generosity of people who donate gifts and money for struggling families in our town gives me hope in the face of global despair.
I mentioned to a few friends that I was having trouble getting into the Christmas spirit this year. One person told me that now more than ever, the world needs hope to triumph over despair. Another friend reminded me that each person can only do so much, and that I can be the one drop, one light, and one friend for the people around me. Maybe that’s what hope is, the realization that while those of us who are ordinary mortals can not change the whole world, we can change the spaces around us. I might be powerless on a grand scale, but in my spheres of life, maybe I am not as powerless as I feel.
I saw a quotation that reads “It’s OK if you fall down and lose your spark. Just make sure that when you get back up, you rise as the whole damn fire.” I have fallen and lost sight of my spark temporarily, although I know it is still there. When I get back up again, I want to bring the whole damn fire. I want to make sure that in my life, and in my spheres of activity, right will prevail over wrong, and hope will triumph over despair. In this season of hope, joy, love and peace, I want to be reminded, like Longfellow was, that peace on earth and goodwill will triumph. I want to be regenerated, re-energized and made ready to burn brightly.
So maybe it won’t be a Merry Christmas in the same way it has been in the past. Maybe I will be more deliberately thoughtful and grateful about things I take for granted, and about the things I need to change in my own life in order to make my world more just and peaceful. I hope it will be a Christmas when we, individually and collectively, take up the challenge to be the whole damn fire and to be the change our world needs to ensure that what is right is what wins in the end.
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
and wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men."
Ohhh, this is SO good!!!
ReplyDeleteWell done, Dodie!!