This is an interesting year for me. It was only last year that I finally admitted to myself that the Christmas story as recorded in the New Testament is a myth. I love the story of the birth in the stable, the choir of angels, the curious shepherds, and the Magi from the East. It was a real wrench for me to let it go. Consequently, it was a hard season for me.
However, this year is different. I've gotten over the idea that a story has to be factual to be true or important, and now I can celebrate the stories of Christmas again, without having to believe they actually happened. I should have remembered from the start that a myth can be a powerful story that teaches us about ourselves and our world - in this case, my spiritual world.
This year I can celebrate the underlying messages - the submission of Mary to God's will, the willingness of Joseph to believe, the angels appearing to slightly disreputable folks who act on their message - even as the ordinary respectable people saw and heard nothing - and the coming of those outside Judaism to see the new child. These are archetypes of not only different kinds of people and their reactions to the story of the Christ child, but part of myself as I relate in different times and different places to this myth of the beginnings of my tradition.
So put up that tree, hang those lights, and put the crèche in pride of place. I'm ready to celebrate Christmas!
I have heard myth described as a story that is not factually true, but is true nonetheless. That seems like a good way to think about it. For me, Christmas is about the rebirth of that sacred part of myself. It's the time of year when I engage in a great deal of quiet self-reflection and I have come to understand how important this time of year is for me. When I am too busy or I don't have my quiet time, I pay for it later. I rely on this time to recharge, regroup, and reflect. Merry Christmas, Karen!
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