The magic of Christmas Eve

 

Christmas Eve dinner at Joe T's

For years, when my children were growing up, we attended the midnight (really eleven o’clock) candlelight service at University Christian Church. I remember one year when we all fell asleep too early, but most years we made it, and the service was a major part of our Christmas traditions.

Time and change intervened. The children moved away, married, established their own traditions—some with church, some with not. I began to spend Christmas at their homes. Jordan figured the other day we have not been in Fort Worth for Christmas in at least ten years—I think it was longer. The last I remember, Eden was two—and she is now close to twenty. Jordan resolved we would go to the Christmas Eve service this year.

I began to waffle. For three weeks I’ve had a chest cold, a cough that lingers, and I don’t want any more. The high incidence of covid, flu, and rsv makes me want to avoid a crowd. Plus it is really cold tonight. Last year in Austin I began to watch online, and the service drew my kids like a magnet. This year, I decided I would watch online again. No problem, I told myself, to stay up until eleven—I usually do anyway. The Burtons decided they would go to the eight o’clock, not the eleven, and they assured me the candlelight singing of “Silent Night” would be part of the service. So I too chose the eight o’clock—online.

We went to dinner at Joe T.s, the four of us, and had a good time. It was festive, with serving people in sparkling, sequin-studded shirts and customers dressed up for the occasion. Enjoyed our dinner and random conversation, and then they brought me home and went to church.

I watched the service at my “comfort” spot, my desk—to my joy the church incorporated all the familiar hymns in the service, the ones I remember from my young years and can still sing all verses from memory—well, if I could sing these days. Mostly I mouth the words. But “Silent Night” with the sea of candles in that darkened sanctuary once again brought tears to my eyes. I thought hard about the message— “Christ the Savior is born.” I know these days a lot of people disparage religion in general and Christianity in particular, and there are branches of Christianity that seem to have forgotten the message, “And of these, love is the greatest.” They give faith a bad name.

But it struck me what a great message for our troubled world lies in the words of those old hymns. For those of us who believe, who practice the faith, Christmas every year is a reliving, a reaffirmation of the gifts of God. (Sorry, I don’t usually branch off into religion in this blog, but I still have tears in my eyes from that candlelit moment.) Every faith has its message of hope and love—I can’t think of one that preaches hate. Banning books and shunning certain people because of race of sexual preference is not religion, it is not love—it’s hate. We need to all of us preach the Christmas message, no matter our personal calling. Maybe that’s the idealistic part of me talking. I’m kind of wandering here, finding it hard to put into words what I want to say. For those who don’t practice Christianity, what I hope they hear is not the divine message about Christ, but the message of love and peace that he brought to the world.

Dinner at Joe T.’s was also affirming tonight. Certainly a departure from our tradition—the one year, maybe thirty years ago, we had dinner out was also the year we missed Christmas Eve church because we fell asleep. But Joe T.’s is familiar—Christian used to work there, and he and Jordan know the owners, eat there often. It is Christian’s parents’ favorite restaurant. My seventieth birthday blowout was there. So I may not have had all my chicken together this year, but I had the local family in a familiar setting. Tomorrow we will welcome Christian’s parents, his sister, brother-in-law, and their two daughters. Setting new traditions, for I think this is the first Christmas I have shared with his family. For years, for Burton Christmas, they went to his parents’ home in Coppell, and I went to Tomball to be with Colin and his family. New ways of doing things while keeping the spirit.

Merry Christmas to all, and God Bless us, everyone!