At the request of The Masked Chicken, I offer this recent, brief Christmas post (from my blog, Old World Swine). More on the way as Christmas approaches. – T.J.
I love this little passage on the power of myth;
merely the stuff called snow afterwards artificially given a human form, like a
snow man. He is something that gives a new meaning to the white world and the
evergreens, so that the snow itself seems to be warm rather than cold.
(from Chesterton's The Everlasting Man
)The
Christ child, in a way unique among the world's religions, gives warmth
to the idea of Winter. In the bleakest, darkest time of year, His
cradle is the hearth-fire around which may gather all people of
goodwill.
The secular trappings can be fun and even spiritually
profitable for one who carries that fire in his heart, but they fail as
a substitute… like gathering around the picture of a fire. You might
find a very good picture on some wide-screen, high-definition
television… but try roasting marshmallows by it, or warming your
hands.
This is, I think, partly what irritates some irreligious
folk about the holy days. Our claim to have a real fire, with real
warmth, and our invitation to gather around it are to them
infuriatingly condescending, so they stay rooted in front of their
picture-fire, just to show us. "Too good to stand here with me, eh?
Think my picture is no good, eh? Snobs. I'd sooner stand here in the
cold than give you the satisfaction.".
