A good snowstorm was all it took to make clear nature’s cold designs. We were snug and warm indoors until it came time to shovel out from under all the snow.
And then to be greeted by a still to be cleared patio with inviting “snow seats,” perfectly designed by mother nature for pillowy softness. Did I say inviting? Only if you wanted to “freeze your buns off.” Brr.
Envision the perfect gathering, would you, of Christmas love and camaraderie spread profusely into every inch and corner of your assembly? Imagine, if you can, you as Santa clad in Christmas cheer greeting one and all in bubbly abandon and not a frown of discontent or “Bah, humbug!” encountered. I dare say it’s more likely that your perfect picture will give way to this: Santa in Civitas in the Aristotlean sense, that is, Santa in the ultimate natural community surrounded by the sweet, the rotten, the bittersweet, the sour, the tasteless and the cloying.
I wonder if you speculate as I do if we would recognize Jesus when he appears at the end of time. A somewhat quizzical statement I admit. Obviously, the query would be just addressed to Christians who, as it happens, will be celebrating the birth of their elder brother, Jesus the Christ, this holiday season and are eagerly awaiting his return one day soon.
“If Narnia’s so religious, how come you can’t find any churches there?” a writer asks.
It’s a reasonable question. Given the Christian framework of Narnia, shouldn’t there be a church, or at the very least a praying figure or a hymn singer or two? And no doubt you’re sitting expectantly at the edge of your ergonomic chair for my response. Right?