So, ever since Thanksgiving was over, I have been parked at our piano, banging out the Christmas tunes. I admit, this started largely because I hosted Thanksgiving dinner, have no dishwasher, and really didn’t want to do the dishes from the party. But what started as a genius procrastination method quickly turned into a major dose of holiday cheer. That is, until I left the house.
Fresh from my one-person caroling session, I left the house full of Christmas spirit and well-wishes to everyone I came across. This being New York City, well-wishes to strangers is generally frowned upon, and my every smile was met with glares and confused looks. The crowning moment was when I smiled at a 5-yr-old, and his 8-yr-old brother came up and physically pulled him farther away from me. Either I’m really not a New Yorker or I have a really terrible smile. One of the two.
Anyway, the whole thing reminded me how spiritually dark New York is. It’s the paradox of being always lonely but never alone. In a sea of millions of people, each person is treading water alone. People barely even make eye contact with each other most of the time, let alone reach out to one another.
This saddens me deeply. But the time of year gives me reason to hope. I pray hard that every person who absently hums the tune of ‘Silent Night”, “Oh Holy Night”, “Joy To the World”, or “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” gets a new and fresh revelation of the glory of the One they’re humming about. I pray that in celebrating the secular aspects of this holiday, that the real reason for the season hits home. I pray that all of those people who only go to church once a year on Christmas, truly meet Him this time. I pray God’s light is shed on the darkness, and that His sturdy rock emerges in the lonely sea of millions. I pray that when it does, the millions flock.