I have already announced to my family that the Christmas decorations would not be put up this year if it meant that I had to take one minute away from babysitting my 11 month old, very active, grandson. I said I understood which activity truly reflected the innocence of that birth in the manger many years ago!
But, in deference to celebrating the birth of my Lord, I dutifully went upstairs to retrieve at least a few items to start the holiday season.The first item out of the closet was the Advent Wreath. I have never, in my thirty years of having my own home with my husband, burned the candles down to stubs. I vowed that each day this Advent, I would sit or kneel before those candles, pray the rosary, and read the Scripture lesson (complete with meditation) from The Word Among Us. Day One went well. Day Two's candle lighting came at 8:15 pm, but I dutifully prayed the rosary and read the daily scripture reading. As I read the Communion Antiphon from today's mass, I read a line from Matthew 10:27.
"What I say to you in darkness speak in the light, says the Lord."
The Lord has been gently reminding me in the shadows of prayer and reflection that this Advent season may be the time frame in which I could make a sincere effort to forgive. Not just forgive with squishy happy smiles, I needed to truly forgive several people in earnest. One person came to mind while I was cleaning my parlor last week. I randomly pulled a single sheet of paper whose corner peered out from a book strewn alongside various memorabilia. The author had written the note to "get me in line" and the notion had offended me at the time. AH HA ! I loved having written proof that I had been wronged! To throw that paper away would mean that I would throw away proof that I had been held in contempt for something very petty. Unfortunately, I could not eradicate Matthew 10:27 from the room, so that piece of paper had to go in its stead. Darn. I knew that I could light that paper from my Advent candle and turn that particular part of my darkness over to the light. Without much enthusiasm, I wandered into the parlor to retrieve the note. I bowed then with the sheet, and read the words slowly, one last time before my holy bonfire began. I glanced through the phrases quickly, surprised at how much I had memorized. I started to apologize to the person for overreacting with "I am sorry ____,"until I saw the last line. I gasped and almost shouted, "NO! I should not have to say sorry! You were the one who was mean! I was wronged!"
A line from 'Forgiveness' by Adam West came immediately to mind, "Even though the jury and the judge, say you have a right to hold a grudge...the only prisoner is you.." The realization hit me that while I did not have to apologize to the person, what they did was indeed unnecessary, I did need to forgive them. I went on with my mission.
I retrieved a metal cake pan from the kitchen cupboard, held the paper to the flame from that purple candle,and watched the offensive parchment burn. The flame lit the paper and then suddenly disappeared after burning only a small corner! This forgiveness thing was difficult. I lit the paper again and then held it upside down until the bright living flame slowly inched its way across the paper. An ugly black carbon wave rolled quickly behind the moving light. I started to wonder if the flame would ever reach that truly offensive last line. I quizzically watched that wayward flame spare the bottom of the sheet. What was left untouched? The person's signature stared at me from the lower left hand corner of the nearly scorched pale piece of paper. Now I had a reminder of that person, not their hurtful words. I stared at the name for a couple of minutes by the light of a single Advent candle.
I brushed away the dark remains, and took the small signature back to the parlor to place on my altar. The thought occurred to me that I should concentrate on burning all the evidence of past hurts this Advent. That symbolic gesture might truly make straight some paths. To speak to the light, all those things said to me in darkness, would take care of that problem I have always had with burning those Advent candles down. I have a feeling that by this Christmas Eve, I could stand a lot taller than any of those four candles ever stood.
