As we come into December most of us can’t help reflecting on God’s goodness. We look back on a year and remember previous Christmastimes; we imagine what we might buy (or get!) over the holidays; we look forward to laughing with family and – we hope – some downtime.
We also dread sleet, shopping, and 1-in-the-morning toy assembling. C’est la vie.
Part of The Academy’s goal, along with helping grow Godly young men and women who are able to think clearly and act virtuously, is to create a sense of balance, of proportion, of what is weighty and what is light. Most things gain or lose importance over a period of time, whether that’s days (as with a work deadline, or years (as in a growing relationship). The head can keep track of calendar items, but usually the heart is involved in keeping track of joys and sorrows. How do we bring them together?
One way is through matching math and science with poetry and imagination. We track and measure things; we reflect and express things. We weigh in ounces and we weigh in memories. We count seconds and we count seasons. That’s balance.
Let me close with a blessing of both. At our last Recite Night some of our younger students recited a shortened version of Christina Rossetti’s In the Bleak Midwinter. They did the cute part, but I’d like to share the whole thing to help create a sense of the balancing of weighty things. Nothing she put in the poem is less important than the other, but in it all we find perspective:
In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.
Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.
Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.
What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.
A good December and a very happy Christmastime to you and yours.
