All You Need is Love
Fourth Sunday of Advent - Year B
December 18, 2005
Fourth Sunday of Advent - Year B
December 18, 2005
Let us pray: O God, may these words be ones which lead us to hear your word for us, your people. Amen
Christine, although everyone including her husband, called her “Chris” stopped and surveyed the room. She had just placed the final Christmas decoration. It had taken longer than usual this year to get the house into Christmas mode, and it was this situation which occupied her thoughts as she looked around at the work she had just finished. On one hand she was frustrated that it had taken so long to get everything in its place. She loved the Christmas season and she loved decorating for it. This was attested by the array of ornaments and keepsakes that they had gathered over the years. Taking so long to finish meant that she would not be able to enjoy seeing the predominance of red and green around the house for as long as she was accustomed. On the other hand, the decorating had been less stressful this year. She had been paying careful attention at worship over the past few weeks. The advent theme of inner preparation as compared to the outward need to race around like a scared cat had imprinted itself on her psyche. It had been more relaxed this season. As she weighed her anxiety about not being done earlier against the less frenetic approach, she figured it had come out about even.
Meanwhile, her husband Christopher, although everyone including his wife, called him Chris, was busy walking up and down the aisles at a local department store, looking for just the right items to finish off his Christmas shopping. He was not alone, and he smiled an ironic inward smile, as he was occasionally jostled by the other shoppers, mostly men like himself, who were on a similar search. He could hear the joking, but also mildly derisive comments from others, mostly women, chiding him for saving the Christmas shopping until the last possible moment. Yes, there were times when he wished he had started earlier, but a last minute search was also part of the tradition. It was part of making Christmas feel right to find himself in a semi-desperate search to find the perfect gift, or at least as perfect as possible at this late hour on already well-shopped store shelves. There was a certain focus and purposefulness that could only be achieved when there was little time left to accomplish the task at hand. In the small, zoomed-in picture it could lead to anxiety and frustration, but in the big picture it was all part of Christmas custom, soon to be part of Christmases past, and adding to the layers which often constituted a tradition.
The Christmas music CD which had been on Shuffle and Repeat while Chris (the former) had been putting the finishing touches on the decorating was going through the list for the third time when she finally decided to turn it off. She pushed the switch over to the radio setting and listened as John Lennon’s poignant Christmas anthem “So this is Christmas” filled the room. Every year, a particular Christmas song or carol, seemed to take on special significance for her, and this year it was this one. Radio and television programmes had been especially interested in the Beatles and John Lennon this year because this had been the twenty-fifth anniversary of Lennon’s tragic death. That had been a week or so ago, nearer the anniversary, but the trend to play Lennon’s music, especially his Christmas song had lingered into the season. She had found herself humming it, at times annoyingly often, throughout the last couple of weeks, and here it was again. Despite the fact that it kept running around in her head long after she heard it, she still wanted to listen, and this time, having just completed the final adornment of the house, she was able to sit down and listen once again.
The department store shopping sound track was playing almost imperceptibly in the background, as Chris (the latter) slowly surveyed the shelves - hoping that a bright idea would come to him, either from what he observed before him, or by once again letting the ideas that had come to him over the past few months sort themselves in a new way so that an until now unconsidered choice might pop into his mind’s eye. He wasn’t particularly worried, he knew something would come to mind. It always did. But it did make for anxious moments during the process. The music glided smoothly and innocuously through the Little Drummer Boy, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and Jingle Bells almost as if they were one composition - no words, just the soothing strings, keyboard and drum machine of some unidentified studio band or computer music creator. He knew that the intent of the music was to imprint a commercial sensibility into his sub-conscious, and he guessed, since he was busily engaged as a Christmas shopper that it was working, but it still bothered him. He was of the mind that many of the song-writers, especially those who had created the songs which could truly be categorised as true Christmas carols, would prefer that their compositions not be used to increase Christmas sales. Besides, he too had heard during worship about the advent message of waiting, and had been somewhat convinced that Christmas carols were best left to the true season of Christmas - the twelve days that began on December 25 and not the twelve or twenty-four or even forty-two days before December 25. Oh well, there are things you can change, he thought, and there are some things you just have to work out for yourself. Despite his wish for something different, Chris was under no illusion that he could change much more than his own approach to such issues. The commercial world may not be interested in advent waiting, but he could do what he could do for himself and his partner Chris. The Nicholas’s along with Saint, their Saint Bernard dog, would do what they could to make the season one that suited their desires and aspirations. Last minute shopping was part of his tradition, but there were other traditions that he wanted to keep and implement that would make the season one that truly met his wishes.
Almost the same things were occupying the thoughts of Christine Nicholas as she listened to the children’s chorus which was part of Lennon’s seasonal contribution. Was feeling stressed all part of the tradition, or was there something that she and Christopher could do to make the season more fulfilling? She reflected on the weeks past and everything that she had done and the things they had done together for some kind of unifying theme that would help her discern what had helped and what had hindered her season of preparation. There were some things that had been done out of obligation, and while they contributed more to her feeling of doing too much rather than as important for her own peace of mind, they could not really be avoided or refused. There were other things that she would not have changed for a moment. The Christmas pageant was one of them. The true spirit of Christmas was captured in the twinkling of an eye, the wave of an angel to her mother, or the sudden seriousness of purpose of a blue draped Mary, intent on playing her role with all the purpose and depth of meaning that the role required. It was portrayed in the confusion of a shepherd about where to go next, different but the same as the first shepherds who encountered an angelic choir with nerve-tingling fear and confusion. She and Christopher had been invited by friends with young children to attend their kid’s school concert and the spirit of Christmas was once again demonstrated by the excitement that was palpable in the delight and expectation of the children as they shared their well-practised but delightfully impromptu songs and presentations.
Christopher, his shopping enterprise complete, just as he knew it would be, planted his parcels in the trunk of the car, and let his mind wander in some kind of serendipitous synchronisation with those of his partner, over the seasonal celebrations and events that he had been part of. It was a common thing for him to do in the moments after he had put the Christmas shopping behind him. All he had left to do was some wrapping, and it was therefore customary for him to reflect back on the season in a kind of analysis about how it had gone for him and for them. Like Christine, he settled on the Christmas pageant and the school concert as shining examples of what the season was supposed to be about. He searched for a word or a theme that would sum up what it was that made for memorable and meaningful Christmas preparation. The CBC reading of Dickens’ Christmas Carol came to mind, as did a reading of O Henry’s “Gift of the Magi”. The insights of the story writers were keen. The theme of self-giving love whether scared into us by visits from the ghosts of old friends, or out of the need to give the very best to a cherished partner was clear. Love of parents for children, as demonstrated in the response to the school concert and love of children to do their very best for God and for loved ones as shown during the Christmas pageant. Love of God for us, love of God by us - as told by the gospel story writers. All you need is love, he thought, for a meaningful, purposeful and faithful observance of Christmas. All you need is love.
The song faded out on the radio, as Christine’s mind continued to think back on her Christmas preparations. With the strains of Lennon’s Christmas song still running through her mind, she thought of another Lennon composition that seemed to sum up what she was feeling. All you need is love. All you need is love. Amen.