Layers of Tradition--Memories and Promises on the Tree

This quiet Sunday slips toward a close as music drifts through our home--soft sounds that warm the memory. The Christmas tree shines with symbols from times and places past. Memories and promises live there.

The bright star at the top reminds me of the light that came into the world on a silent night in Bethlehem over two millennia past and of the guiding sign that led seekers to the light. I remember a bulletin board in Mrs. Olsen's fourth grade classroom that we stayed late one December afternoon to help her design. A silent night view overlooking a darkened City of David made of scraps of fabric and bright sequins; the tableau showed three wise men richly attired descending into town bearing gold, frankincense and myrrh to a child hidden somewhere in the tumble of flat and dome roofed dwellings in the distance. High above the scene, on a midnight blue construction paper sky speckled with yellow sequined stars, was The Star, resplendent with an eight pointed radiance beckoned to the future. The memory glows in my heart even now--one of the first times I clearly remember the spirit of Christmas. The lights on the tree echo the star but also remind me of the fruit of God's love. A prophet spoke of this fruit as sweet beyond all other sweetness and white beyond all that is white. The glow shines against the rich green of eternity. The Christmas tree is a tree of life.

Icicles dangle from the branches reflecting the light. I placed them there taking my cue from a song written by Edvard Grieg.

"Like the Viking we are praying, homage to the highest paying. Spirits tremble, hearts are bounding, joyfully his praises sounding. That thy faith may strong be builded, pure as ice by sunlight gilded, rise from nature’s best endeavor, seek thy God, seek Him forever. Seek thy God.”

Grieg Landkjenning (Discovery)

Brass trumpets remind me that "the trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised incorruptible." and bells suggest the sound on a cold clear snow covered Christmas eve in Norway as the church steeples sound a welcome to the newborn Child. I put Norwegian flags on my tree as well. They remind me of my two years of service to God on a mission to teach the gospel. The flag's red field reminds me of the Savior's sacrifice, the deep blue cross of his crucifixion and the white cross surrounding it of his perfection. All the richness and goodness of a traditional Norwegian Christmas Eve is wrapped up in that flag and in the tiny red spotted toadstools and Christmas Elves (Nisser) that also grace the tree.

Sheaves of wheat speak of the covenants made with God to stand as a witness of God at all times and in all places, to keep his commandments and to always remember his son that I might have his Spirit to be with me always. Nutcracker soldiers signify that Israel means "soldier of God" and that I am enlisted of my own free will in his cause, pledged to serve him all the days of my life. Ten penny nails tied up with red ribbons remind me that Christ was "wounded for my transgressions and bruised for my iniquities and by his stripes I am healed." He binds me to him by his love and I accept his yoke which is easy and his burden which is light.

My gifts and talents are meager compared with God's mighty works. I do not know all things and I cannot touch all people with what I know. But I can touch those who read what I write. It is part of all I can do and Christ's perfection allows my imperfect praise to be sufficient.

May each of you feel the joy and love of this sacred season on your own silent nights.

"How silently, how silently the wondrous gift is given. so God imparts to human hearts the blessings of his heaven. No ear may hear his coming, but in this world of sin, where meek souls will receive him still the dear Christ enters in." Brooks, O Little Town of Bethlehem