Christmas in the year 2001

Very much like the singing of the angel’s choir so long ago, once again we lift our voices and proclaim with joy that the Savior has come! Hallelujah! This is an amazing time for us to celebrate Christ’s birth—especially now, especially here. As a people we have been through a lot lately and we’ve been changed by recent events. Suddenly the comfortable memories of Christmas past seem even more precious and, like many, I find my mind being drawn back to simpler days and a slower pace.

My recollections of Christmas begin in the 1950’s. I grew up in Cornwall-on-Hudson, New York, a place much like here. Kids and grown-ups alike delighted to think of all that Christmas morning would bring: a fancy breakfast, hot cocoa, family all around and, of course, the unwrapping of presents.

One particular memory sticks out in my mind when I was six or seven years old. It happened on one of the nights just before Christmas. I remember looking out the window and watching the snow steadily blanket our huge yard and the pines on the hill.

It was dark. The house lights were shining on the snow and I felt an incredible feeling of comfort and peacefulness. It seemed as if I was the only one in our small home to notice. Everyone else was probably too busy with other things. It was my special moment. I enjoyed the spectacular sound of the snow touching the ground and, although I couldn’t grasp its full meaning, it was enough for me to know that something wonderful was being revealed right before my eyes. Time stood still. It was a beautiful world. I was happy.

As the years went by, Christmas lost most of its meaning for me. I became a young man, concentrating on the adult life that lay ahead of me. The country at that time was at war in a faraway place. As the older warriors recounted their battle memories for me, my duty became clear. Like so many others, I went to war. Regrettably, for many of the years that followed, I forgot about true happiness. I got lost. My journey was troubling and lonely, but thanks be to God I found my way home.

In all my travels, I failed to remember that there was still a special unopened present waiting for me—the beauty and the peace that I experienced so long ago. It is an awareness of this precious gift—given by the One whose love for me is beyond measure—that is enduring and powerful. It is a Savior’s love—full of reconciliation and forgiveness. It opens your innermost being. It is like a snowfall—gentle yet powerful—and its beauty can take your breath away.

While there is still trouble in the world and our young still go off to war, we have been given another Christmas to share with each other. I hear fresh new voices singing joy to this world and my hope is refreshed. I see the astonishing craftsmanship of God in the our communities. It is a sight for sore eyes. I am so happy. There is peace in my heart. I am home.

Guest editorial by Pastor Steve Knutsen,
Pastor of the River United Methodist churches