I grew up listening to Channel 2 of the English Services of
what was then called Radio Ceylon. We
didn’t have a radio at home, so it was only during school holidays spent in
Kurunegala, with my maternal grandparents that I heard English songs. That too, second hand; my aunts tuned
in. And this, in the evening.
The radio belonged to my grandfather. There was early
morning pirith which was part of my
waking up. There was news at the
particular hour. There was an hour, if I
remember right, of children’s songs.
English songs came late in the day, after play-houses and cricket. Those December evenings were when I first
heard Christmas Carols. They are part of
my earliest memories and naturally listening to them even now sparks off
memories.
Christmas is some days away but the English stations have
already started playing ‘christmassy’ songs, classics as well as recent
compositions. They take me back to a
place that is not the place of childhood and holidays, a once full house of
light and love now empty and forlorn, and it comes alive again. I am not ungrateful, but that straying into
the lands of nostalgia comes with a price: Christmas Marketing.
I am no Christian and I’ve read enough to know how doctrines
get appropriated by organizations and how organizations are moved to facilitate
profit-making. I know that Jesus of Nazareth was not born on the 25th
day of December. Nothing of this takes
away from the life and word of Jesus.
Christmas carols did not and do not detract either. The commercials do. Jesus was not a peddler of small mercies. He
was not about this sale and that sale or chances to win this or that in a grand
draw if you bought this or that, all in the name of Christmas cheer.
Nothing wrong with festivity of course, and as a much
adored, alert and perceptive aunty of mine pointed out to me two years ago it
is not that those who splurge with cheer are not given to giving. Still. Something’s missing, I’ve always felt,
in the month of Christmas and it’s not my grandparents, the ancestral home and
holidays remembered to be more splendid that they probably were. A couple of days she sent me a short
note. It won’t harm to meditate on the
words she shared, whether one is a Christian or not, whether one purchases
Christmas commerciality or not. This is
what I received.
‘I picked
up the Advent Magazine from my little church on Sunday. Someone had submitted
the following verse.
I
stood somewhere afar off and watched the busy throng
The
streets were full of people, Yule-tide had begun
the
shops were gaily lighted, the kids were buying toys
The
adults doing their shopping with gifts for girls and boys.
The
pubs are whole day open the barrels running dry
some
are in their kitchens baking Christmas pie
The
houses decorated with balloons, gifts and trees
And
some are serving visitors with biscuits cakes and teas.
The
churches too are crowded, the choirs singing loud
Santa's
at the parties, swinging with the crowd......
But
somewhere in the shadows, my Saviour lonely stands
With
pity in His gentle eyes and nail prints in His hands.
( Charmaine Lisk)
A Christmas carol, this, and one not easy to forget. Took me back to those holidays, Radio Ceylon
and a time that can return if only we open our hearts to let it all in, ‘Looking
to the Savior’ included.
msenevira@gmail.com
1 comments:
Mercies dont have to be big, Malinda. The important thing is to recognise them-small or big- when they do arrive; which is quite often although we dont have the eyes to see.
We are exhorted to count our blessings-you'd be amazed if you do, the list is never-ending.
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