Christmas in Cusco mostly happens in the dark. Mass, the big
meal and the opening of gifts all happen in the middle of the night as the 24th
December ‘explodes’ into the 25th (fireworks are traditional here on
Christmas Eve!). There are many cultural differences between Christmas in Peru
and Christmas in the UK. It is nowhere near as big a festival as it is in
Britain, at least in the commercial sense, and that can be an advantage, leaving
us free to celebrate Christmas as we wish, rather than being bombarded by the
advertising, the TV Christmas specials and the parties.
 |
| Cusco Main Square at Christmas at night |
But Christmas ‘in the
dark’ is obviously a metaphorical reality for many and being away from family
and friends and the things that in the past have made Christmas special helps
us appreciate the mixed feelings or even depression which Christmas can bring.
Sorely missed family members abroad, illness or the death of someone close in
the preceding year (or longer ago) can make Christmas dark. A 17 year old we
are visiting in the hospital at the moment, recently paralysed after a bicycle
accident, is certainly sharing a dark Christmas with his father, alone in the
trauma ward.
The whole feeling that we are supposed to have a ‘Happy
Christmas’ makes matters a hundred times worse when we don’t feel happy. But
just before Christmas I came across a clip by Glen Scrivener (a minister from
Eastbourne), entitled ‘Christmas in Dark Places’ (you may have seen it as it deservedly
did the rounds on facebook), which got me thinking and helped me to see
Christmas in a different light.
Jesus was born in the dark, away from home, into poverty:
It’s dark, in the bible, when Christmas is spoken.
Always a bolt from the blue for the broken.
It’s the valley of shadow, the land of the dead,
It’s, “No place in the inn,” so He stoops to the shed.
He’s born to the shameful, bends to the weak,
becomes the lowly: the God who can’t speak!
And yet, what a Word, this Saviour who comes,
Our dismal, abysmal depths He plumbs.
Through crib and then cross, to compass our life.
To carry and conquer. Our Brother in strife.
It’s actually quite obvious, but I
had somehow failed to totally realise this before - if we feel as though our
Christmas is dark, and that we don’t even want to participate, then Christmas
is for us more than anyone. Not the commercial version of Christmas, or even
the ‘happy family’ version of Christmas but the Christmas that we read about in
the Bible where God comes to earth precisely for the lonely, the poor, the oppressed
and the depressed.
And if we are not among the
lonely, the poor, the oppressed or the depressed (or even if we are) then through
the Holy Spirit within us we are called to bring light - Jesus coming once more
into the darkness.
‘The people walking in darkness
have
seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
a
light has dawned.’ (Isaiah 9:2)
Buying a ‘Happy
Christmas’?
Something else I read this week, together with the
experience of visiting our first real, shiny, western-style shopping mall in Cusco,
has also impacted me in relation to Christmas:
‘The world sees joy as
something received…. Many are trying to extract from life that which life may
seem reluctant to give. So often, of course, this ends in disillusionment.
Enduring happiness is found only on the narrow road with Me.’ Fr Hon Woolley in ‘I am with you’
People often look for experiences, success or ‘stuff’ to
bring joy. We try and ‘buy’ happiness with new clothes, a new car, chocolate or
holidays. The new shopping centre in Cusco, which, in a fit of desperation,
half-opened a week before Christmas (it certainly wouldn’t be open yet in the
UK due to Health and Safety regulations), houses a large supermarket, a
department store, various other smaller shops and soon will have a food court,
once it’s finished. Local people are trying to figure out how to use the
escalators without falling over and numerous cleaners are constantly trying to
keep the floors shiny (rainy season and a building site outside making this
rather impossible!). It is a place where the advertisements tell us we can buy
happiness. Rather poignantly, it is built on the site of, and right next door
to what remains of, a Catholic school and seminary. Talk about a visual aid for
Jesus’ words, ‘You cannot serve both God
and Money.’ (Matthew 6:24)
 |
| Cusco's new shopping centre |
Despite the increasing materialism in Cusco, Christmas is
seen by many here as a time to contribute to the needs of the less fortunate,
and many, many businesses, schools and hotels fund ‘chocolatadas’ where hot
chocolate, food and toys are handed out. A few evangelical churches also run chocolatadas and use the opportunity
to give the Christmas message, but sadly, in my opinion, many evangelical churches
tend to ‘throw the baby out with the bath water’ as they like to be distinct
from the Catholic church and don’t even mention Christmas!
Nativity Scenes and
the Meaning of Christmas
A final Christmas thought is one that relates to the
elaborate nativity scenes that the kids enjoyed seeing in the Catholic churches
just prior to Christmas. Nativity scenes are big in general – in homes, hotels,
shops and bus stations. An article in the New York Times caught my attention (I
must add that I don’t normally read the New York Times but was sent the link by
a friend). It’s entitled ‘Ideas from a Manger’ and here’s the introduction:
‘Pause for a moment, in the last leg of your holiday shopping, to
glance at one of the manger scenes you pass along the way. Cast your eyes
across the shepherds and animals, the infant and the kings. Then try to see the
scene this way: not just as a pious set-piece, but as a complete world picture
— intimate, miniature and comprehensive.
Because that’s what the Christmas
story really is — an entire worldview in a compact narrative, a depiction of
how human beings relate to the universe and to one another. It’s about the
vertical link between God and man — the angels, the star, the creator stooping
to enter his creation. But it’s also about the horizontal relationships of
society, because it locates transcendence in the ordinary, the commonplace, the
low’.
I don’t think an attempt to
summarise would do the article justice, so here’s the link if you’re interested
in worldviews and what a nativity scene encapsulates:
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/12/22/opinion/sunday/douthat-ideas-from-a-manger.html?_r=1&
 |
| Giant Nativity Scene at Korikancha, Cusco |
Towards the end of the article
the author states:
‘So there are two interesting
religious questions that will probably face Americans for many Christmases to
come. The first is whether biblical religion can regain some of the ground it
has lost, or whether the spiritual worldview will continue to carry all before
it.’
I wouldn’t like to call a life
with God based on the Bible ‘religion’ (that is another entire topic), but the
Biblical story is the only one that makes sense of, and redeems, the dark. I
hope your Christmas was ‘happy’, but if it wasn’t, let’s remember that Jesus
came more for dark Christmases than merry ones, and the joy He brings can be yours. Let’s not look for the joy we seek under the bright lights of a shopping
mall, but in the Child in the manger, the Light of the World.
O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep,
The silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light.
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.
