I wonder what part of
this story draws you in the most? I
wonder what Mary wondered, pondered in her heart that Christmas morning?
I wonder if we need to exercise
our capacity for wonder? By this I mean:
learn how to use it and make it a part of our life?
I wonder what a life of
wonder might look like?
What is wonder? I like the proposal of Rabbi Abraham Heschel,
probably the greatest Jewish writer, and one of the greatest religious writers
of the 20th century.
[In case you think it
rather odd I am quoting a Jewish rabbi on Christmas, let me remind you that
what we are witnessing is a Jewish family coming into being, relying on their
tradition to grasp, to wonder at what is going on in their lives.]
Any way, Rabbi Heschel’s
understanding of wonder: Wonder is
An intuition for the dignity of all
things, a realization that things are not only what they are but also stand,
however, remotely, for something supreme. [Wonder is] a reference everywhere to
mystery beyond all things . . . to sense the ultimate in the common and simple
. . . What we cannot comprehend by analysis, we become aware of in [wonder].
To increase our capacity
for wonder is to train ourselves in a way of seeing, of seeing more in the
world, and in one another, than meets the eye.
Wonder is not opposed to science and the knowledge of provable things,
but wonder is always looking for more, wonder recognizes that there is nothing
or no one we can understand completely, that mystery is a fundamental part of
life.
Why this talk about
wonder on Christmas Eve? It is because
the mystery of Christmas, that God and humanity are not opposed to each other,
but are meant to be partners in living, in creating.
The one thing we need to
increase our capacity for wonder is found in a favorite line from a Christmas
carol, “It came upon a midnight clear,” the third verse.
Yet with the woes of sin and strife
the world has suffered long;
Beneath the heavenly hymn have rolled
two thousand years of wrong;
And warring humankind hears not
the tidings which they bring;
O hush the noise and cease your strife
and hear the angels sing.
We need to be quiet. We
need to shut up. And we need to set
aside our differences, which is especially important in the polarized climate
we live in.
O hush the noise and cease your strife
and hear the angels sing.
And what are the angels
singing? “Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace and goodwill to men and women.”
Just before the end of
his life, Rabbi Heschel was asked if he had a message for young people. He
said,
Let them remember that there is meaning
beyond absurdity. Let them be sure that
every deed counts, that every word has power, and that we all can do our share
to redeem the world is spite of all the absurdities and all frustrations and
all disappointments. And, above all,
[let them] remember . . . to build a life as if it were a work of art.
And I would add that if
you, like me, are no longer a young person, we can always begin to do these
things, to begin again to live a life of wonder.
If you haven’t yet asked
God for a Christmas present this year—and even if you have—ask for the gift of
wonder. It was Rabbi Heschel’s primary
prayer. He prayed
Never
once in my life did I ask God for success or wisdom or power or fame. I asked
for wonder, and he gave it to me.
The quotes from Rabbi Heschel in this
homily can be found in the anthology, I
Asked for Wonder.
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