Merry Christmas, Re-Stated

I sit here now on Christmas Eve, 14 hours before Christmas Eve on America's east coast. It is my first Christmas alone, yet loneliness is the last thing I feel. I reflect on my experiences with Buddhism, with Judaism, with a country of people who claim to have "no religion," and maybe for the first time I understand Christmas better than all the years before when I was surrounded by people and presents and lights. The real message and meaning of Christmas is simple: joy to the world, for there is the great promise that you are, and will be, loved. And the promise of Love is personified by a baby born in a stable. Is it really important whether or not this baby was the Son of God? ("Of course it is," some people would argue. "That's the whole foundation of Christianity -- Jesus as the Son of God.") But I believe what is most important, beyond any ideas of Trinities or Virgins or gifts of frankincense, is simply what this Day and what this Child represent for ALL people: the hope, and the promise, of being loved. And with true love comes peace--an erosion of barriers if not an erosion of identities--and with peace comes the ability to be content with what has already been given to you, and with contentment comes the inner strength and energy to love someone else.

There were two aspects of Buddhism that were hard for me to embrace. The first was the lack of a God in the Christian sense, the lack of someONE to whom I could specifically address my prayers. The second was a quote from a Buddhist monk, who said there was no need to convert to Buddhism, because I could find everything I needed within myself and within my "current" or "former" religion of practice. I read this and felt like a scolded child, like my efforts and readiness to accept something new were "silly." And for a long time I rejected this idea because I felt like it was rejecting me.

But it was always in the back of my mind, and slowly, I have come not only to accept it, but also to agree with it. I don't feel a need to divorce myself from Christianity, in hopes of finding a simpler, less "cluttered" spirituality. I have only to look past the violence and the complicated family trees of The Bible to find what I originally set out to discover somewhere else -- the message of unity and love. And being alone, in a foreign country of non-Christians on Christmas Eve, has taught me exactly that.

It's not that my family, or all those who celebrate Christmas with me, have not tried to teach me this already. But I think it's a journey you have to make on your own before you can fully appreciate it. Never has there been a more appropriate time for the quote that has almost become cliche:

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time.
--T S Eliot

Merry Christmas. A new Merry Christmas; a simple Merry Christmas; one I feel like I am knowing for the first time.

I've never felt more content with God, or with the understanding that there are multiple paths to the same destination.

You are loved, there is hope for peace, and the rest is just details.