The Devil Is Real
[Continuing our reading of and meditations on The Christmas Carol]:
Having sent off the men seeking charitable contributions empty-handed, Scrooge comes to the end of Christmas Eve. Like many people, he’s kicked some unpleasantries to the end of the day. When the issue can no longer be avoided, as he’s locking up shop, Scrooge has a short conversation with clerk Cratchit.
“You’ll want all day to-morrow, I suppose?” said Scrooge.
“If quite convenient, sir.”
“It’s not convenient,” said Scrooge, “and it’s not fair. If I was to stop half-a-crown for it, you’d think yourself ill-used, I’ll be bound?”
The clerk smiled faintly.
“And yet,” said Scrooge, “you don’t think me ill-used, when I pay a day’s wages for no work.”
The clerk observed that it was only once a year.
“A poor excuse for picking a man’s pocket every twenty-fifth of December!” said Scrooge, buttoning his great-coat to the chin. “But I suppose you must have the whole day. Be here all the earlier next morning.”
It’s an argument over a paid holiday: Christmas.
Don’t be completely surprised. Remember, this is Victorian England: celebration of Christmas is only being recovered. For 200+ dismal years, Protestant – especially Puritan Protestant – England frowned on Christmas. Recall that for several years Puritan Boston made celebration of Christmas an offense punishable by fine.
In our modern world, time is wealth. People are often more willing to part with a few bucks rather than a few minutes: they’d rather pay for things – even things for loved ones – rather than spend time with those loved ones. We’ve given a new meaning to the term “time is money.”
Nor is it just about the gift of presence. Our sense of the sacred is eroded. We may be surprised at Scrooge’s reaction to Cratchit wanting Christmas off, but would our relatives a hundred years ago recognize our secularization of Sunday? How much has the Lord’s Day become just “another” day, even for Catholics? How often does Mass get lodged into the time schedule of the “weekend?” How often are we ready to cut corners on Mass: get there late and leave early? It may not be the casuistry of pre-Vatican II morality, but the question of “how much can I miss while it still counts?” is not wholly lost.
Next Monday is a holyday of obligation. How many people will already grouse about “two days in a row?” in church? “What happened to the bishops’ “Saturdays-and-Mondays-don’t-count-for-holydays” rule? (Answer: it doesn’t apply to the national patronal feast).
Do we ever stop to think that prayer and especially the Mass are not “obligations” but privileges? That it is a great gift of God that dust – because we come from dust – is able to speak to the Living God?
During this Advent, let’s look at our attitude towards sacred times and moments. Like Christmas. Like holydays. Like Sunday. Like prayer. Are we put upon – like Scrooge – to give them the honor they are due? Or do we rejoice in the privilege that, aware of whom we are, this dust can speak to God --- and that God wants him to?
When she appeared to two French peasant children at La Salette, Our Lady asked them if they pray. With some shame, they admitted not so well. Our Lady’s advice was basic: make sure you say at least an “Our Father” and “Hail Mary,” and when you have more time, do more.
We want to spend eternity with God in heaven. If so, we should get used to talking with Him.