“What ever happened to White Christmases?” is kind of a silly question where I live, because they never existed in the first place. To be honest, I hold nothing against any of the people who enjoyed a nice 6-inch-think sheet of snow outside their houses as they sipped their hot cocoa and opened gifts this morning… But even I think that a high of 70 is a bit ludicrous. Evidently it’s just not in the town budget to afford snow on Christmas Day, which is understandable. It’s definitely in high demand this time of year. As long as we get a respectable amount in January and February, I’ll be happy.
So, it was fog and not snow through which the streetlamps shone in the streets of the town below as I stood in the church parking lot last night. And it was strange. But I was kind of okay with it.
Funny how the more you think about things, the more sense they seem to make. Because as I drove slowly through the ethereally backlit clouds of mist on the way home, it occurred to me that what I found so enchanting about misty evenings is being limited in how far you can see. When the edges of reality are hidden behind a sheet of monochrome, one imagines that anything could exist behind them. You could be on a cloud, or somewhere in Europe. Or in an uninhabited, vaguely magical carbon copy of your own hometown.
And it occurred to me that this visual handicap is an appropriate metaphor for Christmas. When Christ the Lord was born in Bethlehem, two-thousand and sixteen years ago, give or take, how few people realized the implications of his coming. For though He appeared but the average child of a poor / middle class young family, His coming was heralded by an army of heavenly splendor, and a fantastical star illumining the sky. And at the edges of reality, shrouded by the mist, lay His future, His Passion, death, and Resurrection: the future of the whole human race.
That such awe-inspiring power and divinity came down to earth contained in human form is a mystery we will never entirely understand, though many have explicated its essence well. It too hangs over our lives like a mist, and is equally as enchanting and mystifying…
Just some thoughts this Christmas Day. Or night, that is. I hope you, dear reader are enjoying your evening, and I wish you peace, and joy, and a very merry Christmas, and pray to God to bless you abundantly.
But what would Christmas be without the annual Window Philosopher Christmas Playlist? (And there is still plenty of time to enjoy it, right? Epiphany’s still a ways off. 🙂
God bless, and good night. Christus est natus! Gloria in excelsis Deo, et in terra pax, alleluia, alleluia!