Monday, December 24, 2007 at 1:01am
Joseph should have argued with the innkeeper
Column: Interesting Times
This column originally was published on Dec. 15, 2006.
If you can't go to Bethlehem for Christmas Eve, you might try the Santa Fe, N.M., Plaza. On Dec. 24 of any year, Christmas Eve, the Plaza is decorated with thousands of farolitos. Cider is served, carols are sung, and groups take farolito-lined walks to the nearby Cross of the Martyrs. You may be one of the group who call farolitos luminarios, but either way think candles in brown paper bags softly glowing. And, think snow if you will, please.
It's not "Sante Fe," as the crawl on CNN said this week in spreading the news that Ambassador Joe Wilson and his wife, Valerie Plame, are moving here. It's Santa Fe, "Holy Faith"; the full form is La Villa Real de la Santa Fé de San Francisco de Asís, the Royal City of the Holy Faith of St. Francis of Assisi — the capital of New Mexico. Whether the ciudad was founded in 1607, 1608, 1610 or any neighboring year is still a debate among historians and the generally interested. The oldest house in the nation is here, still standing.
After a stop at the crèche in the Plaza, it is a short stroll of five or so blocks to the foot of Canyon Road. There is the smell of piñon in the air. From sunset to about 10 at night, thousands, yes thousands, of people walk up the road and into the side streets, where there are more luminarios and flying farolitos. Don't ask.
Then it is back down the road or the Alameda on the other side of Canyon Road to Noche Buena at St. Francis Cathedral. The midnight mass at St. Francis Cathedral is a celebration, and the cathedral looks the way one wants a cathedral to look and feel: murals, a huge altar, wide aisles, hard pews. One could be in Spain or Portugal or Latin America. One could be in Bethlehem, if one has an open mind. And, if Mass is not for you, then there are Pueblo Indian dances under starry skies.
They went there — to Bethlehem — to be taxed, the expectant mother and father, and, even though they were there for some time before the birth of the child, there was "no room at the inn." This phrase from the Gospel of Luke in the King James Version of the Bible recurs in my mind this week as one of the salient points of the Nativity — making and finding room for the humble Christ.
A widower, interested in me, has a ritual of avoiding Canyon Road and the throngs and going, rather, to some friends — church-going people. He asked them if he could bring me this Christmas Eve. The hostess informed him that there were not enough chairs. As it's not a sit-down dinner, one wonders what "not enough chairs" means. Lisa Randall, professor of physics at Harvard and author of "Warped Passages: Unraveling the Mysteries of the Universe's Hidden Dimensions," recently said on the "Charlie Rose" show that we may live in a pocket of three dimensions but that the universe or universes may have many, many more dimensions unseen.
If there is no room at the inn, if there are not enough chairs, what does it say about the dimension of thought that limits the still, starry night we associate with the birth of Christ? How do I somehow know, am overwhelmingly convinced, that there is room at the inn — that there is a place for all of us in an endless dimension unbounded not only by space but also time?
It is that birth in Bethlehem that echoes in the carols in the Santa Fe Plaza, that embraces the thousands making a pilgrimage up a narrow road lit with candles in brown paper bags, that poignant aroma of piñon that all breathe in as they hope for snow and honor the birth in Bethlehem thousands of years and thousands of miles away. There is room at the inn, the manger and in the hearts and homes of all who pause on Christmas Eve to share good tidings of great joy to all people.
— — —
Lynne Bundesen is the author of five books on religion and was adjunct professor at the Boston Theological Institute under a Templeton Science and Religion Grant. She is currently the spiritual expert for the physical and spiritual health website of Dr. Andrew Weil. Her latest book is "The Feminine Spirit: Recapturing the Heart of Scripture." Her email address is {email lynnebundesen@hotmail.com}lynnebundesen@hotmail.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Lynne Bundesen.
If you can't go to Bethlehem for Christmas Eve, you might try the Santa Fe, N.M., Plaza. On Dec. 24 of any year, Christmas Eve, the Plaza is decorated with thousands of farolitos. Cider is served, carols are sung, and groups take farolito-lined walks to the nearby Cross of the Martyrs. You may be one of the group who call farolitos luminarios, but either way think candles in brown paper bags softly glowing. And, think snow if you will, please.
It's not "Sante Fe," as the crawl on CNN said this week in spreading the news that Ambassador Joe Wilson and his wife, Valerie Plame, are moving here. It's Santa Fe, "Holy Faith"; the full form is La Villa Real de la Santa Fé de San Francisco de Asís, the Royal City of the Holy Faith of St. Francis of Assisi — the capital of New Mexico. Whether the ciudad was founded in 1607, 1608, 1610 or any neighboring year is still a debate among historians and the generally interested. The oldest house in the nation is here, still standing.
After a stop at the crèche in the Plaza, it is a short stroll of five or so blocks to the foot of Canyon Road. There is the smell of piñon in the air. From sunset to about 10 at night, thousands, yes thousands, of people walk up the road and into the side streets, where there are more luminarios and flying farolitos. Don't ask.
Then it is back down the road or the Alameda on the other side of Canyon Road to Noche Buena at St. Francis Cathedral. The midnight mass at St. Francis Cathedral is a celebration, and the cathedral looks the way one wants a cathedral to look and feel: murals, a huge altar, wide aisles, hard pews. One could be in Spain or Portugal or Latin America. One could be in Bethlehem, if one has an open mind. And, if Mass is not for you, then there are Pueblo Indian dances under starry skies.
They went there — to Bethlehem — to be taxed, the expectant mother and father, and, even though they were there for some time before the birth of the child, there was "no room at the inn." This phrase from the Gospel of Luke in the King James Version of the Bible recurs in my mind this week as one of the salient points of the Nativity — making and finding room for the humble Christ.
A widower, interested in me, has a ritual of avoiding Canyon Road and the throngs and going, rather, to some friends — church-going people. He asked them if he could bring me this Christmas Eve. The hostess informed him that there were not enough chairs. As it's not a sit-down dinner, one wonders what "not enough chairs" means. Lisa Randall, professor of physics at Harvard and author of "Warped Passages: Unraveling the Mysteries of the Universe's Hidden Dimensions," recently said on the "Charlie Rose" show that we may live in a pocket of three dimensions but that the universe or universes may have many, many more dimensions unseen.
If there is no room at the inn, if there are not enough chairs, what does it say about the dimension of thought that limits the still, starry night we associate with the birth of Christ? How do I somehow know, am overwhelmingly convinced, that there is room at the inn — that there is a place for all of us in an endless dimension unbounded not only by space but also time?
It is that birth in Bethlehem that echoes in the carols in the Santa Fe Plaza, that embraces the thousands making a pilgrimage up a narrow road lit with candles in brown paper bags, that poignant aroma of piñon that all breathe in as they hope for snow and honor the birth in Bethlehem thousands of years and thousands of miles away. There is room at the inn, the manger and in the hearts and homes of all who pause on Christmas Eve to share good tidings of great joy to all people.
— — —
Lynne Bundesen is the author of five books on religion and was adjunct professor at the Boston Theological Institute under a Templeton Science and Religion Grant. She is currently the spiritual expert for the physical and spiritual health website of Dr. Andrew Weil. Her latest book is "The Feminine Spirit: Recapturing the Heart of Scripture." Her email address is {email lynnebundesen@hotmail.com}lynnebundesen@hotmail.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Lynne Bundesen.