Those angels

     Some comedians build up an act for most of their lives. Subject material, delivery and timing, all those components have to be crafted and honed for effect. Painstakingly. Deliberately.
 
     Andrew, however, was killin' em by the time he was 5. All the family was accustomed to his droll malapropisms, and every season brought new "Andrew stories". One of my favorites was his rendition of a Christmas hymn, "Angels We Have Heard on High." His phrasing throughout the verse was entirely orthodox, but when he got to the refrain, his spin was pure Andrew. Rather than completing the long "Gloria" with "in excelsis deo" he interpreted it as

  "and it shall be day-o"

     Much to our delight. Of course. That is one of the many Andrew stories that have persisted in the telling again and again throughout the intervening years. Mostly to his annoyance, because what person enjoys hearing about the "adorable" things said while a child? But it is a story I have been remembering all this past week.

    Today is the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. All week long I have been drearily aware of grey skies, foreshortened days, and endless nights. Houston skies have been rainy and cloudy enough, but with my arrival yesterday in Alabama, the oppressive iron-grey sky is overpowering. Listening to Christmas choral music on the trip, I was mindful of "In the Bleak Midwinter"and its description that "earth stood hard as iron." Will winter never end? Will spring ever return? My youngest brother lives in Seattle where it is rainy and overcast most of the year, and where seasonal affective disorder saps energy and will and social interaction. Little wonder that it does, when even a week of dark skies have made me think darkly.

     So little wonder that Christmas is such a willfully joyous season. In that bleak midwinter, in the midst of shrinking days and oppressive nights, comes the greatest of miracles. The miracle of the incarnation of God into man. The miracles of love and fellowship shared between strangers. Whether you are deeply religious or simply secular, the season of Christmas promises renewal and vigor and community. And it delivers.
     So, here in the midst of family, in the preparation for Christmas, renewing relationships with those separated from me by 800 miles, I am hopeful and joyous and expectant. The promise of Advent brings light and life even with lowering skies and thunderclouds above us.

     Andrew was right.

     Angels we have heard on high
     Sweetly singing o'er the plains
     And the mountains in reply
     Echoing their joyous strains

     Gloria.........
     and it shall be day-o...

   
     Merry Christmas to everyone, and God bless us, every one.