Advent III: The Curtain

Everyone has memories of childhood Christmases.  Remembering special traditions, the looks and smells of our decorated houses, hearing particular music, and watching favorite movies can bring us back to cherished Christmas, to places deep within, places that feed our souls each year.

One of the most vivid memories I have is of a carol sing held at a huge house down the road from ours. I think the entire town was invited, or at least it felt that way, and food and drink abounded.

At a specific moment, two men gathered in front of the piano in the grand living room, while my father sat at the keys. Together, the three would lead us through the nativity story with carols sung throughout. Their telling of the familiar story brought it new life, and the carols filled the room and our hearts with deep joy. It made me want to sing loud, but I was too embarrassed to sing at all.

One year, I realized the windowsills behind the elegant curtains were two feet deep, wide enough for me to sit in cloistered safety and hear the story and sing the carols with no one seeing or hearing me. It felt as if I had God all to myself, and that spiritual intimacy behind the curtain is something I long for still.

Looking back, I wonder if that moment didn't influence my faith more than I realized. Today, when sitting quietly each morning, trying to get myself together spiritually, I wonder if I’m not trying to recreate the feelings behind the curtain, of having God to myself. Such intimacy is something to be treasured, for sure, but our lives of faith call us to more than private time with God, as this season vividly reminds us.

We are called to stand where people can see us, sing so people can hear us. In other words, we are called to come out from behind the curtain and join others in telling the tale and singing the song.

This Christmas (and beyond), may we do just that!