It has been twelve years since I penned the following ode to the joys of the holiday season. At the time, the first of the horrific school shootings (by a 14-year old) had just settled into our collective consciousness, we were only beginning to recover from the sudden death of Princess Diana, and we were finally becoming aware of ethnic cleansing in Bosnia and of rampant famine in parts of sub-Saharan Africa. Still, as I look back on those days, I am struck by how innocent our world still was.
Indeed, only two years later, on December 31, the world community celebrated the arrival of the new millennium with a sense of joy and hope that was probably unparalleled in human existence. Never before had so many of us joined in a salute to the grandeur and splendor of life.
And then, as that new age we had feted began to unfold, we were hit with the harsh reality of 9/11, and from the heights of hope and faith, we were plunged to the depths of despair and anguish. Instead of a brave new world, we appear to have rediscovered the horrors of the scared old one, with two near-decade-long wars against the evil of terrorism but the latest evidence.
Some view 9/11, and the events that have developed in its aftermath, as signs of a coming apocalypse. Others, myself included, instead choose to observe how little the human condition, and the attendant struggle for survival with which we all do battle every day, has changed. We are, always and forever, a strange combination of the best and the worst of our essential makeup. We can create, and we can destroy. We can love, and we can hate. We can be merciful, and we can be unjust.
And so I offer again my little ode to the spiritual oneness that binds us all. We aren’t perfect, far from it. But occasionally, we can feel the perfection that may somewhere exist. HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
Every year at just about this time, the four of us in my little family schedule two nights to watch two of my favorite movies of all time. They are the classic “It’s a Wonderful Life,” starring the incomparable Jimmy Stewart and Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol,” or, as it was titled in its original release, “Scrooge,” starring Alistair Sim in the role of a lifetime.
Together these two movies express beautifully the spiritual awareness which the holiday season seems to rekindle in each of us every year. Yes, they say, every life, every individual human being, can make a difference and be a source of good will to our fellow earthly inhabitants. And, in living such a life, they conclude, we can all know joy in the love that we create and thereby receive in return.
I am fully aware of the other side of the holiday season, that being the almost unbearable stress which it creates in many of us, what with the greeting cards that have to be mailed, the presents that have to be hunted down, the meals that have to be planned and prepared, the decorations that must go up, the lights that must be strung on the roof (often at no small risk to life and limb), and the countless other “burdens” that compound the difficulties that are constantly with us as we struggle to make our way in an often seemingly cruel and inhospitable world.
But those travails pale when compared with the wonderful spirit which pervades our interactions at this time of the year. What is it that causes all of us to be just a little friendlier, a little more in touch with our better instincts? For Christians, I suppose the answer is likely to revolve around a reverence for the occasion of the birth of Jesus, the light of the world, as he is described in the Gospel of John.
This feeling of goodness is not limited to the many followers of Christ, though. In fact, it seems so infectious as to know no religious bounds. And so I think the sense of joyfulness which we all feel during the holidays must be as much a testament to some kind of spiritual link which binds us together.
In presenting this admittedly ethereal thesis, I do not want to be accused of Gnostic mysticism or even some kind of pantheistic theological belief. I readily admit that I have very little understanding of ecclesiastical matters, notwithstanding my fascination with them.
But I cannot deny what I feel, and what I perceive others feel as well, and I am left with the unavoidable conclusion that, despite our inherent selfish nature, there is, in this strange species of ours, a will, a need, a burning desire to care for each other. We are, in this sense, kindred spirits, seeking a union with our fellows by which we can somehow feel more complete.
So it is that we can feel the pain of the parents of the three young girls who were killed by their 14-year old classmate in Kentucky, or feel the pain of the assailant’s parents perhaps even more, or mourn, collectively, when an otherwise unknown princess dies on the other side of the world, or long for a way to help starving children in a far-off place we will never visit, or cry at the cinematic depiction of past horrors and injustices which were inflicted before we were born.
In his marvelous personal reflection on the meaning of his Armenian ethnicity, Michael Arlen, in “Passage to Ararat,” identified the genesis of this quest for union with our human comrades by stating that “we were all kin to begin with.”
Maybe that fact is what we get more in touch with at this time of the year. Surely there is an impetus for this realization, and it may well come from a power greater than we can know. No matter the source, it happens every year. And it feels good, doesn’t it?
Peace, love and the joys of the season to all.
Hi Ed,
Thank you for this lovely holiday “meal.” To me Alistair Sim has always been the real Scrooge. The others are just pale showdows by comparison. And the woman who plays his housekeeper–wow. Her part didn’t last long but she sure made the most of it. Remember the scene on the stair where he is ecstatic and she’s freaking out? One of my all-time favorite cinema moments.
One of my friends just saw It’s a Wonderful Life for the first time this year. How I envy him! Of course it’s an amazing movie no matter how often you see it but what a thrill to discover it for the first time!
I agree with you, Ed, that you don’t have to be religious to feel that there is something almost numinous about this time of year and that something is revealed in the way that, in spite of the real and contrived stresses we reach out to each other.
I remember a day or two after 9/11 when images of collapsing tours flooded every tv screen, one of my friends asked me how we can feel anything but utter despair. I said we can think about the men on flight 93 who fought back. We can think about the men in one of the towers who carried a woman in her wheel chair down a nearly endless stair case to safety. We can think about all the people whe were not official first responders who came to help. A huge brawny iron worker looked uncomprehending at the reporter’s question. “Of course we want to be here; everybody wants to be here. There are people in there. We have to try to get them out.” I remember massage therapists, chiropracters and body workers showing up to provide support to the fire fighters and other workers. I remember people bringing food and coffee. I remember a little girl who baked cookies for the fire fighters.
In times like those we can see the best and the worst depending on where we choose to look. Every December we can look at the cold and the rain and the snow and the lousy economy and the greed and incompetence that caused it or we can look at amazing acts of kindness by ordinary people. If you go to a certain secret warehouse this evening you will see 70-80 uniformed Santa Clauses and their helpers loading sleighs cleverly disguised as pick-up trucks, SUVs and U-Hauls with beautifully wrapped gifts of food, toys, toiletries, school supplies and clothing, even bicycles for families who have no reason to expect a visit from the jolly old saint. You will see Black Santas and White Santas and Asian and Hispanic and even Jewish Santas. The warehouse is called The North Pole and that’s where I will be as I have been for the last five years. It’s the best part of Christmas for me.
All the season’s best, Ed, to you and yours. And thanks again for another year of thoughtful, inspiring essays.
xo Donya
Ditto to what Donya says!
Thank you for another eloquent and poignant piece, Professor Telfeyan! You somehow managed to articulate this idea beautifully.
And I’m right there with you–I’m not religious, but I admit that something transcendent exists during this time of year despite all of that other stuff. You can’t help but consider whether all of this is really due to providence.
I’ve come to realize that, genuine relationships and deep connections with other people is what really gives our lives substance and meaning. Which, I think is what Arlen was truly seeking in his journey.
Unfortunately, our culture doesn’t offer anything like this as a solution to our problems. Our world is full of narcissists in search of instant arousal and gratification, and the Corporatocracy is right there, ready and willing to meet those needs. While the cycle of consumerism may be alluring, intoxicating, fun, sexy; it’s empty and unsatisfying. And it doesn’t solve any of our problems. It doesn’t heal.
And I guess this is what I really love about this time of year: It reminds us, that something larger than ourself exists. I don’t care if you call this God or what, but it motivates you to consider others before yourself and to rise above these earthly cares. And that we aren’t alone in this world. We share it with each other; we are all kin.
And so. . .Merry Christmas to you and your family, Professor Telfeyan!
And I want to wish the entire “Meals” readership a happy (and safe) holiday!
Cheers!
-Ashley