unseasonable musings

Earlier this week Dr. Tate opened my Classical Lit class with a reading from Luke 2. The Christmas Story. I was caught off guard by my reaction to the familiar words.

And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Casesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.

Pendent from each phrase of the matter-of-fact synopsis hung a cluster of rich associations.

And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the City of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.

Recitations in elementary school during the advent season, snow fluttering beyond the windows and paper-chain countdowns drooping from the ceiling.

And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.

Clammy palms and quickened heartbeat before a grinning audience, blurting my line into a microphone during the Christmas program, acquitting myself with valor for the prize of a candy bar and an orange from my beaming Sunday School teacher.

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shown round about them: and they were sore afraid.

Christmas Eve parties at Oma and Opa's house, Opa's sonorous Dutch voice rolling the words out into a restive family crowd, everyone pink-cheeked from the smoke scented hearth heat.

And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

Squirming in my pew on Christmas morning as the endless service plodded on, my entire being yearning towards the festive heap of unopened gifts beneath our cozy Christmas tree.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

A general warmth of Advent sensations: love, fellowship, trust, excitement, joy. (Greed, gluttony, and indolence as well, of course, but expressed only in socially acceptable format.)

There are certain passages of Scripture that move me most when read in the language of King James, and this is one of them. Psalm 23 is another, and Isaiah 53, and Genesis 1. They are the familiar underpinnings of my earliest glimpses of truth, and when I hearken to them I am awed by God's faithfulness, filled with joy for the sufficient insufficiency of words, and of The Word.

(Addendum: When I scan this version of the Bible, it also becomes all too clear to me why I battled punctuation confusion throughout my formative years.)