Tuesday, December 25, 2012

emmanuel in aberrations

I will learn to love the skies I'm under

Nomads strike a pity deep within us. To be forever adrift, wandering the wide world without a fireplace and warm bed to return to is a very sad and dreary fate.  And while we pity the nomads who lack a home of their own; we admire their courage for owning up to the fact that no home we create for ourselves will ever satisfy us. 
Nomads are brave enough to face the stark reality of exile. 

We yearn for roots and hobbit holes. Places of comfort that serve as islands in the perilous wasteland of the world. Little aberrations of familiarity in a world of eternal mystery.

aberration |ˌabəˈrāSHən|
• Astronomy: the apparent displacement of a celestial object from its true position, caused by the relative motion of the observer and the object.

In astronomical definition of aberration, motion and stillness are one.
Christmas is the celebration of that strange and certain unity between what seem like opposites.
The present moment: the only bit of time we can ever actually experience is the eternal moment. Eternity and time collide.
Humanity's fallenness and divinity meet: the sin of Adam and the grace of Mary contribute to this event. 
A baby is also a god. That child who seems like the weakest of creatures is the prince who will save the world.

The event being: a child born in a cave. It's very ordinary. Children are born everyday: it is the ordinary beginning to many ordinary lives.
But Christmas weds the ordinary and extraordinary. They become so melded together, even what seems mundane has been touched with Love's sacramental magic.


The world has become one big love letter; the trees form letters and the stars are punctuation.
I stood in the snow where the birches grow, and I knew that I was loved.
I knew it with the certainty that only beauty mixed with heartbreak can be sure of.
There is no reason on earth that violins should sound like the music our hearts make, and yet they do.

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