Thought with our first Xmas at the new joint, I'd revive the tradition of sharing some serious thoughts for a change...

At Stonehenge, as the sun sets on the Winter Solstice, the rays of the dying sun pass perfectly through the gap made by the most prominent of the ancient trilithons (two standing stones with a third laid across the top). We have no idea why the neolithic builders of this monument wanted to mark this annual event in stone, but it is clear that they did, and we must assume it had some profound meaning to them. After all, the construction of the monument was no small task for them. The effort required certainly reflects some deep need.

As far as we can tell, the solstice has been revered in many cultures as a time of rebirth, renewal, rejuvenation. This makes sense. It's when the days stop shrinking and start to grow larger. And even though the worst of winter is still ahead of us, the elite spiritual leaders of the past, the ones who could read the stars in the sky and plot the motions of the sun and the moon, marked this day as the beginning.

It makes sense that Christmas would occur at about the same time, since Christmas is all about rebirth, renewal, rejuvenation, and, of course, redemption. Why is it off by four days? Doesn't seem to be much reason for it. It's not clear that Christmas has anything to do with the solstice at all, originally. Originally, early Christian thinkers pegged, for various reasons, March 25 as the date of the Annunciation, and they simply added nine months. But coincidence or not, it's absolutely fitting that we celebrate the Christmas season just as the astronomical year ends and begins to build towards another year that will lead to thaw, spring, life again.

If you are anything like me, you probably spent childhood Christmases enjoying your own sense of renewal and rebirth. Seeing certain family for the first time in a year. Watching old films your Grandpa captured of days gone by. Sitting by a wood stove in a garden house, with a mug of hot cider in your hands, and your sock-clad feet pressed firmly against the warming slate floor. Cracking nuts - remember when you could buy nuts still in the shell? - and sneaking just a few too many mints or cherry cordials, while laughing with family. Sure, maybe there was a church service in the morning, but the entire event was more than that. It wasn't just about scripture and hymns. It was about reconnecting with those closest to you. It was a reason to get together and remember why you were all important to each other.

Unlike some of my previous attempts at this at the Old Place, I'm not going to go any deeper into theology than the gloss I've already given. Instead, I will tell this story. Many years ago, when I was older than a child, but still not an adult, and people still dear to me, but sadly long gone, were still with us, my family gathered in another state for a Christmas. We ate, we sang, we opened presents. On the ride home, we passed through some locally famous Christmas light displays. One farmer was known for turning his driveway into a drive-through, so that cars could slowly pass through and admire his lights almost as sort of an amusement park ride. Of course, we all got in line and did that, at 5 MPH.

Then we drove back to Indiana, and I was driving my sister's pickup, because she was tired and sleeping in the passenger seat. As she was asleep, we were going over a small bridge in New Haven, and I lost control. Black ice. We spun out. It wasn't a 360, it was more like a 720. We ended up parked ass first in some poor guy's front yard, and my sister woke with a terrified start. We were breathing heavily. The engine was still running. We both opened our doors to check on things, but neither door would open. Not far, anyway. One was blocked by a telephone pole, another by a lightpost. Somehow, in the spinning, I had accidentally parked the car right between them, without a scratch. It was no skill on my part, believe me. The outcome was dictated entirely by the ice. But after we calmed down, I put it in drive, we pulled back onto the road, and continued on our way. Was it a miracle? I don't really believe in them, so probably not, but who knows?

But what I do know was that our next stop was another house filled with family, because we had just had Christmas day at Grandma's house, but now we were having Christmas dinner with an uncle from another branch of the family, and that's what the holidays were then. It wasn't just, let's get to Walmart and buy whatever we can before we get bloodied up too bad. It was rush from family to family and visit as many people that you love that you can, fit in as much joy and communion as possible, before you finally slink home and lay your head down and rest.

Unfortunately, my family is getting smaller and smaller. Some die. Some move to Colorado. Some simply don't want to be bothered. But I think back to those years gone by, when Christmas season really was a time to renew and rejuvenate, not just some vague theological notion of God and salvation and all that, which, while surely important, doesn't touch the here and now quite as much as putting in that effort, just once per year, to give new life to love and family.

God bless you all, have a Merry Christmas, or Happy Christmas if you're a soccer fan, and I wish you the very best for the new year.