Carols and turkey baps help me see eternity

"all that is not eternal is eternally out of date" CS Lewis

The room slowly hushes, the world outside is dark, and the carol service starts.  My mind is still jumping around - that's a cute Christmas jumper, I wonder where she got it? - will I have time after school tomorrow to make cookies for the teachers?- do we need to get that oil light checked before we travel next week?

But there comes a point in the familiar readings and carols, where a phrase strikes through to my heart.  It might be "the Light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it", it might be "a thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices", or "when you kiss your little baby, you kiss the face of God".  

Suddenly time stands still, and usually I'm weeping.  Not only has the powerful and scandalous news of the gospel hit me again, but at the same time I'm having a flash of seeing backwards through time, to all the other times I've heard these words at a carol service.

I see myself as a child with a tea towel tied awkwardly on my head, waiting for my line in the nativity play.  I see my teenage self watching the candle flames flicker in the windows of our church, and starting to understand the impact of the true Light on our world of darkness.  I see myself as a new mum, holding a baby, trying to keep them settled and pondering the messy mystery of the Incarnation.  I see myself at various ages dealing with grief at Christmas, when all the carols make me cry, and I cling on more tightly to a faith feeling fragile.

All of these times when the story has pierced my emotions afresh, when the Emmanuel plan has stabbed my heart again with its beauty and daring, come together into a thread running through my life.  The pattern of this thread, stitching deeply into each year, is being created by the one I love, by the one who is showing me His story.  I'm too close right now to the stitching  to see the full pattern, but at least at moments like this I remember that it's there, and trust that it will make sense when I finally see it.

All of this time travel and connection to God takes only a few seconds to experience.  I am filled with joy, tears, wonder and/or nostalgia.  But this is not the weak nostalgia of fond memories or "the good old days".  This nostalgia stabs my soul, strengthens my foundations and lets me know it's Christmas all at once.  As I am reflecting on this type of experience, I wonder if it's one of the closest places I will come on Earth to experiencing what eternity with Jesus will be like.  I am deeply lost in the present moment of twinkling lights, timeless words, the redeemed and the seeking children of God around me.  This is counterposed with the sense of timelessness, of connection, of God's over-arching narrative reaching backwards and forwards through my life and through time itself.

The connection to eternity doesn't last long.  The connection to a draughty animal shed, to a mother with shining eyes, a baby containing all the mystery of heaven; connection to those I have lost, to all my previous selves and the future ones.  Soon a child is tugging on my hand, or my mind has flown back to the to-do list (which is eternal in a very different sense).  Then the service is over, and I'm left somewhat dazed, trying to wish everyone a happy Christmas, and make sure my family eat their turkey baps.

The turkey baps are totally temporal- they are solid, they are delicious in my mouth for a few seconds.  They sustain my body for a few hours and then they are gone.  But because they are the same every year, they still connect me to this idea of Christmas- of God breaking in to our darkened hearts and minds, connecting us to His light - of connection, love and the hope of eternity He has placed in our hearts.