If you ever examine the early Chinese vases in the Fogg Museum or
elsewhere, you will note that many of them have little cracks in
the glaze which run every whichway. You might conclude that these
were caused by antique methods of firing the pottery, or are just
the result of old age. Actually these cracks, which are known as
crackle in the glaze, were made on purpose. For it seems that these
vases were often given as New Year's presents, and since New Year's
is celebrated by the Chinese in the spring, the crackle was made
to represent the breaking-up of the ice on the rivers and lakes,
the change from the hard and fastness of winter to the movement of
spring.
We miss something important in our symbolic thinking by not
celebrating Christmas and New Year's at a time when nature herself
takes a new lease on life. It is more difficult for us to realize
the possibility of the breaking up of the old and the forming of the
new when the ice is thickening on the ponds and the snow is driving
deeper on the hills. It is hard enough as it is to become renewed in
the spirit of our minds.
We try instead to capture newness by thinking of a child, a symbolic
child that appears on the covers of the Saturday Evening Post and
the Ladies' Home Journal. Dressed in the scantiest of clothing, his
chubby face covered with a broad grin, the spirit of the New Year
ushers us into a new calendar. And in the hurry and excitement of
the time it may have slipped our minds that only a week before we
recalled a real child, a child that once was born in fact and ever
since has been reborn in the souls of men.
I wonder if we ever associate these two children and ponder the
meaning of each, for in a way they have a joint significance. The
child of New Year's means new opportunities, new openings for a
world of men sick and tired of the old. Those who would live by
this child alone, however, soon run into depressing frustration
for they have forgotten that new things do not come easily to old
men--men that are old in spirit of whatever age. They find that
new opportunities can only be met and made use of by people who
have a spring of newness within them; they realize that here is
where newness counts most, down at the depths of the soul. And
perhaps they discover--God grant that they do for it is the greatest
discovery that a man can make--perhaps they discover that this is
the meaning of the child of a week before.
Those old words about dying to sin and rising to newness of life,
of being born again like Nicodemus, or at least the reality within
those words, may of a sudden catch hold of a man and shake him to
the core--shake out the old egocentric habits, break up the shoddy
ways of thinking, that he may be regenerate and born anew of the
Christ within him.
We are reminded annually on Christmas Day that a new creature is
possible, a new creature with fresh reactions and an unburdened
soul. We are reminded of this every time we come to the Holy
Communion and hear Christ's words, "Come unto me all ye that travail
and are heavy laden and I will refresh you."
But response may be withheld and the opportunity passes us by. W.H.
Auden states the only too often repeated case in his _Christmas
Oratorio_:
"Once again,
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away,
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long."
That is one possibility, merely to regard the child of Christmas as
a symbol, like the child of New Year's--two fabulous children who
have no meaning once the holiday season is past. Or we can see in
one Child the very reality of newness, a newness that we can have
and use for this New Year's and every New Year's to come--the spirit
of God, eternally new.
"_For we have seen his star in the East and are come to worship
him._"
But stars that lead travellers in a fixed direction and then come
and stand over houses cannot be identified astronomically--so might
comment a pedestrian critic of the story of the Three Wise Men.
Furthermore, the Magi if they ever did in fact exist were nothing
but Babylonian priests that were versed in astrology. Astrology! we
all know that scientific astronomy has long since relegated that
superstitious practice to the archives of the fantastic.
Yet I wonder if one of the deepest troubles of our time is that
men do not see stars that lead travellers in a fixed direction. Is
not the Day of the Lord long overdue when, as he said through the
prophet Joel, "It shall come to pass that I will pour out my spirit
upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions."
Visions of peace and a world made new--what greater need today has
the strife-ridden world than this?
It may be just poetic fancy in the Epiphany season that points to
a striking resemblance between the Three Wise Men following a star
to the birthplace of the Prince of Peace and the delegates to the
assembly of the United Nations coming from distant lands to try
and make their dream of peace come true. They have seen the star
at last, they have followed it to the resting place--so far all is
well. But will they go through with the whole story?
Have they come primarily to get or to give? Will the actions of
each nation be governed purely by self-interest, to gain security,
to insure colonial possessions, to learn new secrets of power for
national aggrandizement? or will they instead, open their treasures
and present unto him who is none other than the spirit of world
brotherhood their gifts--one gold, another frankincense, another
myrrh? For they have much to offer, ancient culture, glorious
traditions, scientific knowledge, vast resources both material and
spiritual, all things that can be used for the unlimited good of all
if shared, but which if hoarded, and thus envied, can work their
utter destruction.
Will they come in a spirit of humility or will they come with pride
in their own might and sovereignty? The Magi were wise enough to
fall down and worship the Prince of Peace even though he was only
just born. Are the nations equally wise to recognize the presence of
embryonic peace and see in it greater import, greater worth, than in
anything each one singly has to offer?
Have they the courage of their convictions? It will be so today as
it was before: "When Herod the King had heard these things he was
troubled and all Jerusalem with him." The powers of isolationism,
in all its forms of non-cooperation, suspicion, financial reaction,
will be sorely troubled by the Prince of Peace and will do all in
their power to kill him while still a child. And they will use all
the deception that Herod employed: "Go and search diligently for the
young child and when you have found him bring me word again that I
may come and worship him also." Go and find out all you can about
the intents and operations of the other nations so that we can use
them to our advantage. Go and expose the futility of cooperation. Go
make mistakes so that we can repudiate our delegates and once more
return to reliance upon self and national security.
Finally, will they depart into their own country another way or
will they return to Herod? Nor will it be of any more use than it
was with the old League of Nations if when they return they do not
lead the fight at home to mobilize the forces for peace in their own
countries rather than compromise with Herod. This of course they
cannot do unless they have the determined support of every one of
us. We must not only be ready to receive them with eagerness but we
must meanwhile be following the same star as best we can, seeing the
same visions, learning how to give and not just to get, practicing
the same humility, exerting the same courage of our convictions.
World peace cannot be accomplished merely by delegates any more than
the Prince of Peace could reign with the help of three wise men
alone.
"_Then was Jesus led up of the spirit into the wilderness to be
tempted of the devil._"
Let no one think for a moment that the devil is a fool. He used the
same ingenuity with our Lord that he has shown from the day that
Adam fell to the present time. And one of his favorite methods of
attack reveals itself here--he waits until a man is in a spiritual
wilderness before he presents the greatest temptation, for he knows
that it is in loneliness that most people succumb.
The temptation may be the one which our Lord faced--to try to
achieve spiritual ends by worldly means. Or it may be less
subtle--to give in to degrading thoughts or actions. In whichever
one of the infinite forms the enticement of the devil may appear, we
are most vulnerable when cut off from companionship.
It is possible to be a romantic about temptation, to take
the attitude of Kipling's poem "If", to glory in your own
self-sufficiency when all about you are losing their heads. Or one
can be a Stoic and grimly bear the vicissitudes of life by oneself,
scorning the assistance of others as a sign of weakness.
But the Christian solution is otherwise. It points out that the
fight with temptation is generally a negative affair, a rear guard
action. What we want to discover is the most efficient method of
overcoming it in order to be set free for more positive and fruitful
work. And the plain fact is that temptation can best be overcome
with the help of others. To resist this assistance in time of need
is not a virtue but a form of spiritual pride. When we pray "Lead
us not into temptation" we mean at least in part, don't let the
devil get us off by ourselves, for he has an easy time picking off
stragglers. But he is completely frustrated by men and women who
hold together in the bond of fellowship and understanding.
The very same thing is true of suffering. Indeed there is a
close connection between the two. There is acute suffering in
resisting temptation. And there is temptation in the endurance of
suffering--temptation to wallow in self-pity and despair. It may be
that misery loves company for its own sake, but it is equally the
case that suffering can best be dealt with in the companionship of
others. Why is it that such extraordinary acts of fortitude in plain
can take place in wartime? Why?--because men are fighting side by
side and are upheld by the esprit de corps that is generated by a
common struggle.
What has all this got to do with us, you may wonder. We don't have
any temptations that seem too great to handle by ourselves, nor do
we have to endure intense suffering. Perhaps so, but the chances are
that we won't always be so fortunate and we can never tell when
it may happen. If we don't learn how to handle the present smaller
trials and temptations we may be overcome by the larger ones when
they come.
So I suggest that you use this Lent to learn some lessons. And
the first lesson is to realize your common humanity--to perceive
how valuable people are to you and you to them. In the time of
temptation and suffering you will not hesitate to turn to others if
you have made a practice of being close to others when the going is
good.
Remember too that by overcoming trouble in your own life you gain
new and great powers to help others through their dark periods. You
then have sympathy and understanding of a kind which alone comes
from suffering and you have the fibre of victory that comes only
from the transcending of temptation.
Finally, realize the constant presence of God. He will be your
companion even when all else fails:
"If I climb up into heaven thou art there
If I go down to hell thou are there also.
If I take the wings of the morning and remain in the uttermost
parts of the sea
Even there also shall thy hand lead me and thy right hand shall
hold me."
Temptation and suffering cannot be avoided but they can be beaten by
you and through you in the company of your fellow men and with the
upholding presence of God.