Christmas Eve Night and Such

A cold, windy Christmas Eve it was.

An elfin friend appeared at my door around 9 for our annual participation in a midnight service. Actually, the service starts at 11. But it is preceded by a choral prelude of obscure seasonal hymns; none of which I'm familiar with. And usually I don't understand the words. So you have to be there by 10, if you want a decent seat.

Me: "I'm ready."
Him: "But you have on jeans."
Me: "Errrr. Well, yes! But they're black jeans; no one will notice."
Him: "Oh, yes, they will!"
As you can see, dress up has a whole different meaning for me: jeans without mud.

Outside, it was windy, cold and drizzly. One of those nights when Santa would have to put the tarp up.

The Interstate was almost deserted. The high sodium street lights formed puddles of brightness along the wet concrete. The drizzle appeared like pink needles in the blaze of the lights.

We parked around the corner from the cathedral on one of the city's only bricked streets. The lamp posts are varations of ones that might have been there a century ago. In the showery dark, I could easily imagine myself in the late 1890s.

The Gothic Revival cathedral dates from 1903. And is all oak panels and dark beams and stained glass. It is also marked by a raked floor that gives a tiny theatrical flavor. I always expect to see Lord Peter Wimsey stroling down the aisle.

As we sat waiting, my friend and I noticed more than a few male-male couples entering. Some seemed like friends, but some were more like dad and boy.

The idea of a deity assuming human form to offer redemption has an appeal. I may be incapable of understanding the particulars. And the worthiness of the philosophy of that human form is not to be denied.

But this does not mean I'm inclined to accept only one viewpoint. Nor am I ready to reject alternatives.

All this to indicate that I've always been able to find this particular service of value in a variety of different ways.

Gosh! That certainly sounds murky enough.

PAX!