As the title of this blog suggests, I am a hot mess of contradictions. I suppose it’s possible that this has always been true, but it’s only been in the past few years that I have been willing to admit it; even only to myself. The reality of my contradictory nature feels especially acute during Advent, hands down my favorite time of year. I am quick to say “Happy Holidays” to other people because I understand that not everyone I encounter is celebrating the festival of Christ during the general time of Winter Solstice, but in the privacy of my own inner thoughts, this season leads me directly into Christmas. It’s not really ambiguous. I am walking with deep personal intention into the Christian festival of Christmas. And at the same time, I don’t believe the details of the story born out of this religious tradition.
This may not be your experience, but what I do or don’t believe has never really been a question of will. It’s not that I decided to stop believing these things. I just couldn’t believe them anymore. I still can’t believe them. I can’t believe that Mary, a virgin, was impregnated by God. I can’t believe that Jesus was born and suddenly there was a celestial event that guided Eastern Magi to his home. I can’t believe that angels informed the shepherds of the birth of God’s Son. I simply can’t bring myself to believe that this historically took place. And at the same time, I believe deeply that the Light of Christ is real and I find it utterly beautiful that Christians celebrate this reality (like so many other traditions who call it by different names) in the days leading up to, and immediately following, the darkest night of the year. This is one of my favorite examples of Christianity acknowledging deep truths that so many other traditions also acknowledge rather than making some exclusive claim on truth that nobody else is able to tap into.
It’s no secrete (at least I don’t think it is) that most Christians who do believe the historic accuracy of the Christmas story don’t actually believe Jesus was born on December 25. That date actually used to be the Winter Solstice and the date of Christmas stuck even after the calendar was adjusted to ensure that Winter Solstice didn’t drift further into the year when the celestial event wasn’t actually taking place. So it was with some intention that early Christians decided to celebrate the birth of the Light of the World, alongside other traditions, on the night that marked the beginning of the birthing of new light in the form of the lengthening of days.
So from the soil of my own tradition I enter into this season with a sincere openness to the journey that awaits me as I travel deeper and deeper into the darkness and celebrate the promise that light is being reborn. Lord knows we could use that kind of perspective as we wave farewell (or a big F-You) to 2020.
I truly hope you have your own tradition to guide you into this season and that it proves to be a time of light being born out of the darkness!
Ben Edwards 