I know. It's only November -- but if you are a pastor like me, you have probably spent the past week or two beginning preparations for the season. It's not that far away at all. It's only a few Sundays until Advent arrives. In fact, before Advent arrives, The Magic of Christmas will start. This our local version of Christmas nonsense. You know the type. It's a little Broadway. A little orchestra. A little choral music and a random ballerina. I saw it last year with a church member. It gave me a headache not only because I'm a New Yorker and snotty about such things -- but because it displayed the things that I loathe most about Christmas.
OK, that's not entirely true. Two weeks ago, when I was shopping in Target, I squealed when I saw the Christmas display. Literally. I sent a text message to express my glee because there was no one to share it with. I realize it wasn't Halloween yet. I did not care. My best friend since first grade teases me about this -- as she is one of the few that has seen this obsession manifest itself year after year since we were both wee. She knows that I start listening to Christmas carols really, really soon. Too early by most standards. And if you are going to scoff at me, you can stop reading because the Christmas fun started yesterday.
While I was waiting for my friend to arrive from NJ, I painted to the TransSiberian Orchestra. Oh yes, I did. I needed a little cheer. You know, like when Auntie Mame sings that we need a little Christmas, I need it right now. So I painted my emotional bleh and and along to Christmas carols. It was the perfect release. I needed that magic -- the kind of magic that is released from the end of a paintbrush in brilliant colors. I needed the magic that is promised with the incarnation. I needed the magic of century old lyrics that sing this magical hope. I neeed a little magical Christmas -- right here.