If the Son therefore shall make you free,
ye shall be free indeed.
(John 8:36, KJV)

The celebration of Christmas inevitably brings to the surface of our consciousness memories of times past, and the most poignant of these are the ones connected with friends and family who have passed away. The way we remember these people is determined, of course, by the kind of individuals we once perceived them to be and the how we felt when we were with them.

The past need not shape our thoughts and feelings forever, though, for our relationships can still evolve through the changes we make in ourselves in the present. When the memories are generally positive, we can enhance them, increasing our appreciation of these folk and the joy they brought to us, and perhaps inspiring us to follow their example. And when our recollections bring us pain, we can decide to change our minds, to see things differently, thus bringing forgiveness, healing, and release. In either case, our efforts will enrich our lives, deepen our faith, and further develop our capacity for love and service.

Elizabeth Watson, in her book Guests of My Life, which is the story of her journey through grief after a daughter's death, sees such activity as a moral obligation: "And this we owe our beloved dead, whether young or old: to wipe from our memories all that was less than their best, and to carry them in our hearts at their wisest, most compassionate, most creative moments." The author used classic literature to guide her, but any meaningful ritual or artistic endeavour can become a vessel for capturing the essence of a feeling or a relationship, if only for a moment, so that whatever change is needed can occur. The season of Advent, when we prepare our hearts for the coming of the Lord, seems like an appropriate time to incorporate such a practice into our daily lives, that through the grace of God, we can be reborn.

Then, on Christmas Eve, we will not only be watching and waiting, but also be better prepared to receive Him, and when we visit with friends and family, perhaps sharing memories of our departed ones, we will be able to communicate without fear or anxiety, because we will be free. Free from the kind of unmitigated grief that casts a shadow on memories that would otherwise bring us comfort and peace, stealing our joy. Free from the burdensome legacy of strained relationships, pulling us down and draining our energy. And free to fully appreciate the beauty in all the people who once accompanied us on our path through life, to recognize the truths they helped us to see, and to bathe in the goodness that was always there, whether we perceived it or not, for the very breath of God quickened us all.

Let us therefore work to renew ourselves, and then, with light-hearted steps, go on our way rejoicing, soon to meet our approaching Lord, the Light, the Giver of Life, who was with us all in the beginning and ever shall be. And if the Son shall make us free, we shall be free indeed. Jubilate Deo! Thanks be to God.

During this period of Advent, as we focus on your coming birth, help us remember your purpose in making this miraculous journey, which was to conquer death, to release the chains that would bind us, and to set us free to be people of God, not only in the future, but also in our present lives. Amen.

Contributed by Diane S.
Sunday December 10, 2006
Liturgical Year C Week 2