Homes alight. Trees resplendent with ornaments of all kinds on display in windows and living rooms. Decorative touches everywhere. ’Tis the season and it feels good.

The five or so weeks between Thanksgiving and New Years are, in America, now called the Holiday Season. A time for breaks from school and work. A time for gatherings and feasting. Getting together with family and friends. Lots of food. Lots of shopping and gift giving. It is a time of hope and, hopefully, joy.

The apex, of course, is Christmas, one of the two holiest days on the Christian calendar.  Jews also have holy days, preeminent among them Passover in the spring, Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah in the fall. Hanukkah, while celebrated in this season, is a lesser holiday, commemorating the rededication of the Temple and reoccupation of Jerusalem in the second century, BC. Only a week apart, Christmas and New Years both point to a break from the past and the ushering in of a whole new thing.

In other words, there’s a lot to pay attention to.

Music is a big part of this season. Everywhere, the sounds of the season are evident. It seems every popular musician and group has produced a Christmas album or collection. With on-demand music, it’s easy to choose the genre to fit one’s mood or perspective. As far as Christmas music is concerned, I think there are two major divisions, if that’s a good way to describe them. Loosely, secular and religious. Publicly, secular reigns. Dozens and dozens of catchy tunes with lyrics full of snow, bells, Santa, good cheer and the wide array of symbols that allow people of all faiths and beliefs to participate in the fun. On the other hand are the traditional Christian carols and hymns that play in churches and homes where, to capture a contemporary axiom: Jesus in the reason for the season.

I have lived in each of these worlds and am comfortable that both are available. We exist in a pluralistic society, one of the strengths of which is to recognize the importance of symbols that point to mighty things. Things that draw us to deeper and better places.

’Tis the season where we embrace hope and peace. A pause in our annual rhythms from regular patterns of life. A time for reflection on the idea of promise and the possibility of renewal, even as the days are short (in this northern hemisphere), many trees have lost their leaves and the blossoming of spring is quite distant. Again, this is a time when we shed the old and delight in the new: Saying goodbye to many of the things that made the outgoing year difficult and hoping that a turning of the calendar will bring about better times.

Of course, such yearnings are just a part of human nature. We recognize that much is broken and in need of repair. We find ourselves successful at this some of the time and unsuccessful at other times. We know that this has always been the case. Some dream of a time when brokenness will disappear. Most people who subscribe to the major world faiths have a supernatural name for this, whether it is, for instance, heaven or nirvana. Secular humanists also have a faith that humans will ultimately come to a place without supernatural assistance and we will have utopia on earth (or amongst the stars). Some don’t envision these possible outcomes, only a dystopian landscape where the darker aspects of reality and human nature dominate and life is unbelievably harsh and cruel. This latter perspective is, unfortunately, the case in (perhaps to a lesser degree) the lives of many who find themselves bereft for all sorts of understandable reasons this time of year, surrounded as they are by all of this celebratory activity. They feel no tug to celebrate. In fact, retreat and withdrawal is their call.

I know of all these things and reflect upon them sincerely. I am a creature of rhythms and patterns. Of ups and downs. Of the swings of life, where we exist in the midst of both joy and suffering. I accept this as a part of human existence and no amount of wishing will make it other. Amidst this to and fro, I seek signs of meaning, helping to make sense of all things. Of course, I am not unique in this. Everyone does it, either consciously or subconsciously.

And, so, I come to this season particularly keen to explore its significance as well as enjoy its many trappings. Right now, I am looking forward to the arrival, in a couple of weeks, of dear family who I love deeply and the special moments within the timeframe of one day. Gathering for a late afternoon Christmas Eve service at church where I am surrounded by hundreds of people who share my deep and heartfelt recognition in the Christmas miracle of Jesus’ birth. I will hold Diane’s hand as we stand and sing of the glory that suffuses our reality, accompanied by all of those other voices and instruments that almost make the heart want to burst. Later, we will gather for our traditional Christmas Eve dinner with family and close friends before retiring, only to rise to the new morning, surrounded by gift unveiling, laughter and love.

But, to me, my most powerful urge is to just fall on my knees. I can do no other. For, the God who I recognize as sovereign and loves me beyond imagination and despite my many, many failures and inadequacies, has given me the greatest gift of all. The eyes and heart to gaze into that small and dank space in the middle of a foresaken land where, forever, the great divide between God and man was breached and the infinite light broke through. The light of redemption. The light of truth, love and grace. In the face of such light, I am awestruck, where the term “wonder” almost seems insufficient. The gift is the knowledge and the promise that transcends all prior knowledge and promises. What joy!

’Tis that season. And, I embrace it. Thank you, Jesus.