The Damariscotta Baptist Church as seen from across the street through a red glass window in the old firehouse. (Paula Roberts photo)
It was Christmas Eve, a night of wonder, of mystery, of longing for the next day to come. The morning would bring hot chocolate, sitting by the fireplace in what we called the back living room. Everyone, including Mom and Dad, would be in their pajamas, bathrobes, and slippers. Getting dressed would come later, in time for Granny’s punctual visit at 10 a.m.
But first, Christmas Eve. Dinner was roast beef, potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, and ice cream for dessert. We had our fill, grateful to God for the meal and for each other. We arrived in plenty of time for the 11 p.m. service of carols and candles. The “big moment” always came at the end of worship, when everyone lit their individual candles, the sanctuary lights were turned off, and we sang, ever so quietly, “Silent Night.”
The traditional New England-style church sanctuary was beautifully decorated for the occasion. A brightly lit 20-foot Christmas tree stood regally by the altar. Seasonal wreaths with accompanying bows adorned each window. An usher lit the Christ candle. The choir and clergy gathered in the back. We all stood and sang “O Come, All Ye Faithful.” The holiest night of the year had begun.
The choir then began to perform a section of Handel’s oratorio “Messiah,” singing words written first by Isaiah the prophet: “And he shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.”
My mother smiled at me as the majestic piece came to an end. Her smile warmed my heart, as mothers’ smiles do. I felt loved, secure and safe by her tenderness, warding off the cold winter night and all the scary things children think about.
Looking back over that unforgettable experience, I realized that someone else was also smiling at me on Christmas Eve. The Holy Child born on that night in a manger, surrounded by angels, shepherds, animals, and adoring parents, grew up to be a man, the Son of Man.
One night Jesus said to a curious, looking-for-answers religious leader, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)
Jesus smiled at Nicodemus, and he is smiling right now at you and me, and all the people of the world.
The cradle in which he was born would someday lead to a cross from which he was hung. It was out of God’s immeasurable love that Jesus would die for our sins so that we would be forgiven and now live for God and his kingdom of righteousness and peace.
Christ came into the world, not to condemn the world, but to save it.
I hope the truth, the wonder, the joy, and the divine mystery of his love will put a smile on your face this season.
A mother’s love is contagious. So is God’s.
Merry Christmas! Gloria in excelsis Deo.
(The Rev. James P. Dowse is the pastor of the Congregational Church of Bristol, at 1261 Bristol Road in Bristol Mills. For more information, call 563-6843, email ccob@tidewater.net, go to ccobucc.org, or find the church on Facebook.)
