The 11th Day of Christmas. "Are we there yet?"
On pilgrimage blues and home coming. A blessing for the weary pilgrim. Oh, and it is never too late to start this journey. Come on in!
Have you ever had the pilgrimage blues? When the days of new beginnings are over, the feet start hurting and the back aches? When the fog descends and you have lost sight of your destination?
I have.
I arrive at this 11th Christmas Day a weary pilgrim. Exhausted. Writing every day always becomes exhausting at the end. Are people still with us? Where are we going? Aren’t we supposed to “reclaiming joy” on the way?
Are we there yet??
And so like our little one calling out from the back of the car I was calling out to the heavens, after I pushed yesterday’s post onto the hay in the humble stable of my heart’s Bethlehem this season.
Are we there yet? Because I am done!
Some wise people tell us that this is when the pilgrimage truly begins.
After all, the Christmas story is a story of traveling, of long journeys, and of home coming, exhausted.
How in the world did Joseph get a very pregnant Mary on a donkey? Where did they get the donkey? Who wants to travel when nine month pregnant anyway? And on a donkey?
And then, without a car or google search they arrived in a town which was the home of their ancestors but not really theirs. Or was there family to welcome them perhaps? Like with a warm meal may be? And was there a midwife nearby? Was it maybe an uncle who gave them the place in the stable? His place might well have been as crowded as the pastor’s home I grew up in, and the stable was at least a safe and warm and more private place in a busy town!
Dear fellow pilgrim, the 12 Days of Christmas are no birthday party. Instead we must, each day, begin anew, must pick up where we left off and again begin walking.
But this is also the good news. You can always begin again, you can even begin just now.
Finding a home in the wilderness, or even and especially with the people closest to us, is the kind of search that any life’s journey is made from. We struggle, we enjoy, we retreat, and we struggle again.
Every shadow place will show up on such a journey and it is no wonder that the holy family ended up in a stable. That is the place where light needs to break in. That is the dwelling place of the Divine. We must venture paths untrodden, endure dark nights, stay in stables, get lost and search for the way back.
And still: These dark passages in our journey are where the holy awaits us. Joy is waiting at the other end of my pilgrimage blues. That pretty much sums up what I can comprehend about Christmas, dear friend.
As HILDEGARD taught us yesterday in her Christmas interpretation for grown ups, our own stable is the place where creation is re-enacted, when the full incarnation of God is accomplished and sacred knowing is born. Or as we say often: You are not seeking Christmas, Christmas is seeking you.
Being open to this journey, open even to this coming home to ourselves is probably the most difficult journey and obviously, I must practice it every year again. GG JUNG, the Swiss psychiatrist (and pastor’s son!) says: …the goal of each individuation, each becoming-human is God's birth in one self…
Did you hear that?
…the goal of each individuation, each becoming-human is God's birth in one self…
The Christmas story moves us because it touches these deep images or "archetypes" we carry in our soul. The Divine wants to come home, home in its home, where it belongs, home in us!
Realizing our self this way is what reminds us that we are made in the image of God, that the sublime wants to take shelter in us; wants to dwell even in our unkempt and chaotic stable, among relatives and strangers, nothing perfect, often not even pretty. Always again, the divine birth is happening, against the odds, in us.
Jung is careful to state that understanding the Christmas narrative this way does not take away any of its mystery. In fact, it rather creates "the psychological preconditions" that allow the story of redemption to be meaningful to us.
This Divine incarnation only touches us if it makes sense within our inmost being. Only then can we say “yes,” only then can redemption take place. Only then does the Divine child become the force who reconciles what seems irreconcilable within us and among us.
So here is my humble blessing for the weary pilgrim:
May you find
on your Christmas journey
and
in the midst of the unfolding of the new year,
some comfort in the thought
that you are God's beloved child
that the Divine wants to dwell in you,
always again,
no matter how shabby your stable.
And may Christmas -God with us - find you where you are.
Almut with Chuck and little one
PS: Tomorrow we will be back for our Epiphany contemplation with a farewell and some more details for Saturday’s day of sharing :-)
PPS: And now my little one is here and wants a hug!
A special invitation:
A Day of retreating and / or sharing this Saturday
Do you know about Women’s Christmas on Jan 6? That is when the (wo)men finally get some rest after busy feast days where they did the hosting. So on this Epiphany we invite you for such a day of rest, retreat, and if you wish sharing. For all who hadn’t much time to journey yet, you can take some time to journey then, reading some or all of the daily letters to yourself at once.
And if you wish you can share what has been on your heart, the insights you have born, the difficulties you faced on this journey. I so much would love to hear from you!
For this I will create a private room of sharing (like an open house) so you can be sure your comments will only be seen by your fellow travelers. There you will be able to share a piece of music, a drawing, photo, or poem of your’s, or what ever came to you and has moved you or what ever you wish to give as a gift to others.
No zoom call, no group pressure. Just an open house you can show up to when ever you can, a space of giving and receiving and hopefully of homecoming :-)
Going deeper: A practice for the weary pilgrim
— by Chuck
Try this exercise, to simply welcome something that is here in your not-yet-there space. You might welcome and have compassion for your weariness. Do not judge it, or become its victim, but notice your reaction to it, and see that the full, round, presence of eternity is enclosed within it. Or notice a candle and welcome that, its fleeting nature and the eternity that it encompasses. Choose something and welcome it here.
Are we there yet? Yes, indeed. We are right here.
This post is part of our 12 Days of Christmas Series 2023/24: “Reclaiming Joy,” a Contemplative Journey towards the heart of Christmas. You can find all previous posts here. To subscribe or to upgrade your subscription click here. To share your thoughts with us, respond to this email or comment below.
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"the sublime wants to take shelter in us"
"our unkempt and chaotic stable ... nothing perfect, often not even pretty"
Relatable. Incomprehensible. I appreciated the Leonard Cohen allusion, made new with this reframing. This helps to give me pause. I also appreciated the reminder to notice, neither judge nor become a victim of what I feel within myself.