Barefoot Bellringing

Tomorrow is the Reign of Christ.  It is the last Sunday in the liturgical calendar, so for all intents and purposes, it is New Year’s Eve.  Each year I change the sign at the Church to read “Happy New Year” and each year there are folks who don’t get it.  And that’s okay.

Once we enter Advent, it is a time of liturgical whiplash…so many emotions, all hurtling together, colliding and often making things messy.  At the Church where I serve, the tradition is to celebrate a Lessons & Carols service for both Advent and Epiphany, to mark the beginning and the end of the seasons.  They are joyous services, filled with story and music and are a lot of fun to put together.

Advent itself is a time of Anticipation, for the birth of a very special baby.  We light our Advent wreath and the litany we use usually points to social justice concerns around the globe.  The services contain readings imploring us to wait, with great anticipation, as something remarkable is to happen.  They are amazing services.  The third week of Advent we light a pink, rather than a blue candle and can wear rose coloured vestments, if we have them.  I am blessed to have a set of rose vestments that I wear twice a year, for Gaudete and Laetare Sunday.

And in the midst of all of this there is the hyper-caffeinated onslaught of Commercialism relating to Christmas.  Buy me!  Eat me!  Want me!  Drink me! surrounds us at every turn.  For many who have experienced loss, all of this can be simply too much to bear.  The thought of the cooking, cleaning, baking, shopping, wrapping, is simply too much.

So each year the Church hosts a service of Light and Remembrance, inviting the same families who have been invited to the All Soul’s services to come and be in a simple service filled with light.  It is an opportunity for us to come together and refocus ourselves, to remember the original reason for the season.  Nothing is expected of the person, simply to come and be.

We list the names of those we are there to remember.  And at an appropriate time in the service we name them aloud.  We can light a candle for them.  We can gather to be together in a place of pain to support one another.  There are five readings which relate to the season and correspond to a candle in the advent wreath.  The service is simple and meaningful and always leaves me feeling completely exhausted, in a mostly good way.  For a couple of hours we create an environment of complete peace and tranquility.  A safe place where we can gather to feel how we truly feel, not having to paste on a happy face and pretend that it’s all going to be just fine.  Because sometimes it’s not.

I need to remind myself to slow down this season and be careful.  The sidewalks are slippery, today rain is falling and the temperature is supposed to drop.  It will be downright scary tomorrow.

So I fill my body with healthy food.  I fill my soul with hope, peace, joy and love.  And I surround myself with those who understand, who don’t have to be happy in order to celebrate the birth of our Saviour.

I encourage you, whether Christmas is difficult or not, to do the same.  Don’t forget to breathe.