Notes from the Far Fringe

Oh my goodness.

It’s the morning of my ordination. Just think – tomorrow, you’ll be reading the words of The REVEREND Kimberley Debus… how about that?

Anyway, on to today’s carol, which is a light little lyric set to a light little tune. I spoke about the tune back in February, where I found it odd to have this tune connected to words celebrating Kwanzaa; here, however, it seems appropriate – with a thought that this might be the original lyric.

It’s not an earth-shattering lyric by any stretch; if anything, it’s a sweet response to the Sophia Lyon Fahs poem “For So the Children Come.” And it’s definitely a modern UU take on the whole Christmas thing.

Within the shining of a star
we catch a glimpse of who we are;
in every infant born we see
the hope of our nativity.

The miracle of each new birth
can shake and save the stony earth;
triumphantly the newborn’s cry
strikes echoes from the waiting sky.

And to be honest, today, I’m not so much in a mind to soften the whole Christmas thing. That’s not to say I don’t, or won’t, when it comes to the season. But today, in late May, I am more inclined to say we should be honoring the belief of millions of Christians, and surely hundreds of UU Christians, who draw inspiration and meaning from one special birth of one special child.

It’s not my intention to be cynical here, but rather to be more open and affirming rather than conciliatory and diminishing. I think one of the lessons we should be drawing from our inclusion of so many sources is not that they can be watered down or put into a context our most skeptical members find palatable. Rather, the lesson we should be drawing is that in the richness, the unbelievable-ness of story and myth and miracle, lies the meaning. We should be approaching the complexities of our sources with awe and wonder.

And whether it’s December 25 or May 27, I’m always up for some awe and wonder.