To
paraphrase Charles Dickens, “Good morning all and to all a Good
Morning.” That awful day of the year Christmas Day has rolled
around once more. I am mindful of the self-proclaimed christians and
christianist politicians among us who are bemoaning a mythical War on
Christmas by people who have the temerity to wish people something
different than the usual Merry Christmas in favor of a more diverse
greeting reflective of the diversity in America that we all enjoy.
Well perhaps all of us enjoy it except for the Lost in Leviticus
christian crowd who believe that Happy Holidays is an act of war
against the godhead. The greeting preferred by such people has always
made me think of a a gaggle of old fat English gentlemen suffering
the effects of gout on their blossoming bodies sitting around a
bounteous table packed with fowl, roasts, rabbits, duck, and geese
toasting themselves and their good fortune with glass after glass of
English port and claret. In my view it has always seemed somewhat
sacrilegious to honor a babe born in a shed meant to shelter animals
against the cold of the night with such a gluttonous feast.
Recently
I was in the local diner for breakfast and to visit with some of my
friends and neighbors who favor the place for its breakfasts when I
noticed one of the local Norbertine monks was present with a small
group of his friends. I hailed the good father and he came over to
where I was sitting and we began a short discussion about his
confrères' plans to move their abbey from its present location in
Trabuco to a more suitable location in Silverado. We began a polite
discussion about their move and their efforts to build their new
abbey on the grounds on an old turkey farm nearby. At some point he
introduced himself simply as “Leo” and I introduced myself in the
same fashion. I disclosed to him that I had once been a Claretian,
an association of which I am still very proud decades after I left
the company of those brave men. That prompted more discussion and we
found we knew several people in common who were and are Claretians
today.
He
eventually withdrew from our conversation to rejoin his friends and
shook my hand and wished me a Blessed Christmas. That blessing has
been with me since as I think of Christmas and how it has been
transformed from a shopkeepers' holiday into a corporate shopkeepers'
holiday in modern America. Father Leo's simple greeting and
blessing has really touched me and made me realize that I am indeed
blessed to have the wonderful collection of friends who care for and
love me. A Blessed Christmas to all who read this.
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