READY FOR CHRISTMAS

Kenneth Torquil MacLean

December 23, 2008

It has recently been communicated to me that there are really four stages of life. It is really quite simple:

1. You believe in Santa Claus.

2. You don’t believe in Santa Claus.

3. You are Santa Claus.

4. You look like Santa Claus!

When we think back on Christmas memories, they are usually firmly rooted in particular places and involved the particular people with whom we have shared Christmas in the past. Sometimes the imagination moves us to places we have only known in our fantasies, like the child’s vision of the place where Santa Claus gets all the toys put together and sorted and wrapped before setting out with the reindeer. My fantasy is a bit different. I think of going to a great old cathedral, perhaps on Christmas Eve, a place where people have come on Christmas Eve for centuries. It is spacious and cold and dark, and in it the flicker of a candle is far-reaching, and the warmth of a small charcoal brazier is lifesaving. The jeweled colors of the very old glass are hidden in this night, but the immensity of the great vaulted roof is felt in the bones. The whole world of the earth, the sea, the sky, the angels, and the creatures, is here in carvings and etchings: the saints and the sinners, the angels and the devils live in close proximity.

The cathedral broods over an old city, having risen out of the life of its people, and it may symbolize transcendence better than a space shot to the moon. Surely we find much at which to marvel in its aspiration toward the very heavens, for it speaks to us not only of imagination and artistry and technology; it speaks of continuity. These people believed the same ideas and cherished the same symbols for centuries! That is an experience of faith that is utterly lost to us.

The great old organ swells and choirboys sing. There is a procession, and ancient rituals communicate a beauty and meaning that is beyond words. The Scripture is read in Latin cadence or in round-toned English. And then the venerable dean of the cathedral mounts the pulpit and tries to relate the human condition to the event of the birth of Jesus. His words nudge his hearers with encouragement or admonishment, with comfort or a call to sterner tasks, and then his words are swallowed in the empty chambers of that great structure as they are swallowed in the remorseless spiral of time.

Terry and I had the experience several years ago of visiting a cathedral, perhaps the newest cathedral in the world. It is called the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels, and it is in the center of Los Angeles on 5.6 acres of space, across from the City and the Music Center, right beside a busy freeway. It is built in architectural concrete in soft earth tones, with wide panels of thinly-cut alabaster forming windows which are softly translucent, giving a luminour quality to the interior.

For me the most moving aspect of the cathedral was the group of twenty-five tapestries which depict the communion of saints in muted colors. The figures all seem tobe walking toward a focus at the front of the cathedral. Many are such recognizable saintly figures as Mother Theresa, Pope John XXIII, Joan of Arc, Bernadette, Thomas Aquinas, and Junipero Serra. Others represent early church fathers, and there are some figures who are anonymous, including children and young people, suggesting persons who will be recognized as saints in the future.. Again, the colors are muted to blend beautifully with the earthtone walls of the building. The artist, John Nava, who was unanimously selected by the committee started by choosing the theme of the communion of saints for this work, and he painted the panels first. When they realized that the acoustics of the cathedral needed some help, it was decided to make the tapestries from the paintings, and a most ingenious process was devised to computerize the paintings and to have the tapestries fashioned by computer. This made possible the creation of the final products in a few weeks, instead of the years it would have taken a short time ago. Although the time of construction has been shortened, this cathedral is still in process of being built. Unlike the great cathedrals of the past, in Europe and in America, it will take decades, rather than centuries.

There has been some controversy about the cost of the cathedral, which, guess what, cost more than was originally planned! This great new house of worship is the product of years of planning and recruiting the talents of a great architect and a myriad of artists and craftsmen and builders, brought together like a symphony orchestra to produce one final effect. Every person who visits the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels will have a different assessment of the total achievement. But I would venture that many faithful Catholics will find a whole new experience of worship within its walls and be moved by the immensity of its space, by the beauty of its furnishings, and by the grandeur of having it filled with music from the tremendous pipe organ and choirs and soloists, by the comfort of a pattern of worship which is familiar. It will be there when we are all gone, a symbol to the faithful of the future of the courage and daring and vision of people of our time.

We are drawn to church at Christmas time by ancient stirrings, echoes of traditional messages, longings for a ritual of life and death in which we can feel a part. There are times when we know that the family is not a big enough community for us, while the nation is too great, and the world is inaccessible. We want to gather in a place where there will be beautiful lights and sounds.

Though this congregation was small in numbers and resources, we embarked on the building of our spiritual home for worship in our tradition and in the familiar patterns of our custom. We built a building for the lives of people we have not met, for children not yet born, and for ourselves in the days and years granted to us. We have made it as beautiful and inspiring as our talents would allow, and we are making it as welcoming to the free spirit and questioning mind as we are able.

We need each other, here and in our homes and in our places of labor and play, and in a place devoted to liberal religious worship and community building. We find it hard to say very often or very directly that we live on the support and recognition and love of each other. Our being here says it.

There is so much pain in the world. Our ability to cope with our pain should lead us to alleviate the pain of others and to remedy the injustices which give so much needless pain. The human predicament for us is to be able to feel the joy and the goodness and the beauty of what we have together and yet not be closed to the pain and the troubles of the world. The poor, the hungry, the imprisoned and the dying are our brothers and sisters.

We deserve life and joy. We need the experiences of giving and receiving that Christmas brings to us. And the hope of the world is in us. The birth of the baby Jesus has symbolized that hope for centuries for centuries, and millions have struggled to make it come true—for themselves and for us.

Here is our cathedral to the affirmation of life and to the generosity of life at its best. May we carry its warmth and light so that our lives will become luminous and willing to brave the struggles of the world.