Christmas reflections

Eric Lee

As I am writing this, we are fast approaching Christmas. If you are like me, you have been rushing headlong toward this time. Every year, I intend to make time to sit in stillness amidst the cold, dark quiet of winter, and every year it seems I fail miserably. But I have had one great fortune this year and last.

As an actor at the Commonweal Theatre in Lanesboro, for two years running, I have had the pleasure of performing in a work based on Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol.” And for two years, I’ve had the delight of my Christmas season starting in mid-October. It has been a treat to spend so much time with these words, these characters, and these themes.

The story of Ebenezer Scrooge’s journey to redemption is still a wondrous one, and one passage in particular strikes me every time. It sticks deep in my soul, and on occasion can move me to tears. These words are spoken by Scrooge’s nephew, Fred, as he speaks of the things which bring him good, if not necessarily profit. Here Dickens perfectly captures what Christmas ought to be, and it seems what anyone who celebrates Christmas should strive to bring into being all the year round:

“But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round — apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that — as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys.”

It is truly stunning that Dickens wrote this over 150 years ago. Here, Fred names the beauty and the goodness that we can exist in, around Christmas. When I think of Christmas, I think of childhood. Of course, I think some of presents around the tree, but I don’t think that much of what most of them were. What I remember was the warm glow of my grandparents’ house. I remember food. I remember a sense of warmth and security. Of abundance.

I remember the candlelight Christmas Eve services. I loved it when the lights in the sanctuary would go down, and we would sing “Silent Night.” That feeling when the organ would drop out, and we were left singing together, a little timid without the guidance of the accompaniment, but we would slowly find our footing. We passed candlelight to one another, and basked in its warm glow. We exited in a hush, but there was this wonderful radiant feeling of generosity and gratitude. I felt so close to everyone, and it always seemed that maybe, just maybe, this year we might be able to take that feeling and move it out into the world.

Dickens offers this wonderful challenge to us. To offer the gift of dignity to people. The gift of humanity. He asks us to think of everyone as “fellow-passengers to the grave,” and I find this so beautiful. Every single one of us shares such a brief time together on this little planet of ours. I am hard-pressed to find a reason why we should exclude any one of our “fellow-passengers” from at least the very basic necessities of life.

We have this one month to bask in the possibility of our generosity, but this is precisely what pains me every year. I would challenge us all, much like Scrooge after his redemption, to hold the abundance, the warmth, the generosity of Christmas in our hearts and in our thoughts all the year round.

May we always challenge ourselves to kindness and generosity, even as we deal with those we find it most difficult to be around, that we might mend and strengthen our own hearts. May we offer light and comfort to those who are struggling amidst the celebration. Whatever you may be celebrating, may you find comfort, peace, and joy this holiday season.