Friends,

This reflection for today is brief but not easy. It invites you into the most urgent movement of your heart. It invites you to listen and to meditate. A healer is born unto us, and healin’ ain’t gonna come easy.

I remember a Christmas several years ago when a good friend visited. We sat in the sitting room, sipping spiced wine listening to Bach. Do you know Bach’s Christmas oratorio?, I asked him. Yes, I do, but this is his Passion, isn’t it? he said. After my first embarrassment I noticed. Of course it is the Passion. I had sung both many times. And still, somehow, unconsciously, I chose to listen to the Passion oratorio that Christmas season.

And this is the point. In the church year and in our heart, Christmas and Passion are not strangers to one another. (And JS Bach has shown this beautiful as both works complement each other.)They need each other – both hold each other in existential embrace. In both movements, new life breaks through in the depth of the night.

Holding our sorrows into Christmas

Today I invite you to lean into this double movement of transformation, the mystery of holy birth, when sorrows and joy intermingle. That is, when the holy makes her dwelling place in us. Therefore, Christmas carols are made to move our hearts. When the lights goes out and Silent Night is sung, even the hardest heart softens a little.

The German song “Maria durch ein Dornwald ging” came to me when I googled for another one. But this melancholic medieval interpretation immediately moved my heart. Fittingly for our journey it was written as a pilgrimage song. The text is most cryptic. It tells a story of Mary walking through a thorny, dark and leafless forest, carrying the holy promise under her heart. And then, while walking with the holy child, the thorns burst into flowers - roses.

So listen, as the Benedictines have it, with the ear of your heart. Read with the eyes of your heart. I am sure even without grasping the German words you will grasp the interior movement (e.g. just by following the flute).

Here are the words:

Maria walks amid the thorn,
Kyrie eleison.
Maria walks amid the thorn,
Which seven years no leaf has born.
Jesus and Maria.

What 'neath her heart doth Mary bear?
Kyrie eleison.
A guiltless child doth Mary bear,
Beneath her heart He nestles there.
Jesus and Maria.

Lo! roses on the thorns appear,
Kyrie eleison,
As the two are passing near
Lo! roses on the thorns appear.
Jesus and Maria.

(adapted by C Huff)

Maria durch ein' Dornwald ging.
Kyrieleison!
Maria durch ein' Dornwald ging,
der hatte in sieben Jahr'n kein Laub getragen!
Jesus und Maria.

Was trug Maria unterm Herzen?
Kyrieleison!
Ein kleines Kindlein ohne Schmerzen,
das trug Maria unter ihrem Herzen.
Jesus und Maria.

Da haben die Dornen Rosen getrag'n;
Kyrieleison!
Als das Kindlein durch den Wald getragen,
da haben die Dornen Rosen getragen!
Jesus und Maria.

Listening Practice

Listen. once. Listen twice. Then read along, which language suits you best. Then pray along. Then lean in. Into the thorny forest, which has not been greening for years, into the courage of Mary, who walks that forest, with a promise of hope “under her heart.” When she comes out of the forest, roses flower on thorny branches.

The old archetypes of pain, barrenness, sorrow, and rebirth are all here. We all have a forest of thorn in our stories, bare now, still promising of new beginnings. As I am every MN Spring surprised again, how greens burst out of bare branches, so is the mystery of incarnation. It transcends our sorrows in tender flowers.

Just listen and see.

Amen.

This post is part of our 12 Days of Christmas Series 2021/22: “Always we begin again…”, a Contemplative Journey towards the heart of Christmas. To enter our virtual gathering space or to subscribe click here. To share your thoughts with us, write us here or comment below.

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