T’was Several Nights Before Christmas
Tampa, FL
December 25, 2021
The search for universal essence began…as so many things did…in ancient Greece, on the shores of Ionia.
The first philosophers sought the primary substance that sustains the world…what St. John later called The Word, which was “in the beginning with God”, without which “nothing was made that was made.”
Thales thought this animating element was water. Anaximenes assumed it was air. And Heraclitus hypothesized for fire. But more important than them positing answers is that they asked the question.
Philosophy, like mythology, is a quest…a pursuit of enduring answers and timeless truth. The questions, and the quest, continued for six centuries…around the Mediterranean, to the reign of Augustus.
Then, the Answer was found, where no one was looking: below a star and under the earth, by humble shepherds and wise Magi, in a small cave beneath Bethlehem.
From that dark cavern came eternal Light. In a subterranean stable lay, as Chesterton put it, the hands that shaped the stars, but that were too small to reach the cattle. Word of The Word spread throughout Palestine and around the sea, from the cave, to the catacombs, to the cathedrals.
Across the Roman realm…as with Saturnalia to Christmas, or hearth deities to patron saints…adherents deftly adapted pagan customs to Christian belief, and conquered an empire. Rather than throw out the baby with the bathwater, they wisely kept both, and used the bathwater to baptize the baby.
The story is inexplicable, and incredible. To those who doubt it, it is improbable. To those who believe it, it is impossible.
When skeptics try to explain it, they try to explain it away. But they can’t dispense with what they can’t see. And many of them can’t see it not because it’s too small, but because it’s too big.
We are part of a continuum, extending from the first person to walk the planet to the last one to leave this earth. It’s what Edmund Burke called the eternal contract among the dead, the living, and the yet to be born.
Today is a new Creation, the sacred signing ceremony of a cosmic refinancing. We are the paper, God is the pen, and the Child is the ink.
Christmas is the fulcrum…the linchpin…of history. In the Incarnation, the Story and the Word become One. Today the Poet enters His poem, the Artist enters His painting, and the Author enters His book.
For the first time in a year, I’ve returned where my own story began. Last Christmas was the final one at my parents’ last house. They’d lived there the better part of two decades, and several months ago decided it was time to make a move.
They made a wise one, and because of that decision we’re blessed to be at their beautiful place high above the bay. After all, just because Christmas started in a cave doesn’t mean it can’t be celebrated in the sky.
We arrived a couple nights ago. As we settled eight floors up on the spacious lanai…watching the sun set across the water and upon our wine…we could think of no place we’d rather be.
But as with the Braves parades last month, this year we held two celebrations. Our first was a couple mornings ago, when we exchanged gifts in our own home, by our own fire, from under our own tree.
Two nights before that, we inadvertently encountered a few emblems of secular Christmas tradition. Or, rather, they encountered us.
Late Monday, returning from dinner for David’s 17th birthday, we were driving along the dark two-lane road that approaches our neighborhood. Then, suddenly, the season stumbled upon us.
T’was several nights before Christmas…
On that silent street with my sons and my spouse, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Alexander and David were resting quiet in back. With my wife beside me there was nothing we lacked.
When from out of the woods there arose such a clatter. I slammed the brakes, to see what was the matter.
When what to my wondering eyes did appear, but the shadow and shape of two mighty reindeer!
With such a fine driver so lively and quick, we stopped just in time despite darkness so thick.
More rapid than eagles courses they came, these two fine specimens of fresh seasonal game.
With relief I watched as they pranced on past, and was proud of the way I had acted so fast.
My eyes, how they twinkled! my dimples, how merry! I‘d steered us safely through that moment so scary.
Then as I drew in my head and was turning around, came from the trees a third deer with a bound!
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, the doe slammed into the doors that saved my wife and my guys.
With a widening of my eyes and a twist of my head, I was unable to see if the poor deer was dead.
We completed the drive and returned to our house, certain the car with venison was doused.
In our garage we checked the panels with dispatch, and were relieved to see they sustained not a scratch.
With relief we all walked back into our home, as with guilt was filled my disquieted dome.
I thought of the deer, was he writhing in pain? Would his loss to Santa finally break the supply chain?
Away I flew like the down of a thistle, and returned to a scene where I hoped not to bristle.
Finding the spot where we’d run into the creature, I saw no carnage, neither heavy nor meager.
On a trail to the woods the animal’d taken itself, and I smiled when I saw it, in spite of myself.
Away from that place I flew like a flash, to tell my family no deer died in the crash.
With a wink of my eye and a twist of my head, I let them soon know there was nothing to dread.
With my conscience clean and the reindeer alive, a few days later to Tampa we’d drive.
Arriving on Thursday, delicious pasta we ate, and washed it all down with red wine that was great.
Christmas Eve as always we heard Holy Mass, and returned that evening for a delicious repast.
Today being Christmas we remember the cave, and in it the Child who for all of us came to save.
Forgiveness we hope spurred that deer to bring gifts, which soon we’ll exchange with the family we’ve missed.
These months have been long and our country contentious, but this is a day to recall what is precious.
To all who are reading we wish you great cheer, for great tidings of Christmas, and a Happy New Year.
JD
