Here in the Snow Belt of Central New York, we’ve settled in for the winter. December, with its record snowfall, was an adventurous month. We plowed our way out of six feet of snow, nearly all of which fell in six days. Had it come in March, we would have groaned with exhaustion and complained that spring was never coming. But in December, the snow quickened our hearts. We were glad to see its return in time for Christmas. And we were happy to show off our resilience.
Now, in mid-January, the snow is usually light to moderate. It falls most days of the week, laying a new blanket over the landscape. This rhythm is broken by the occasional burst of bright sunshine and deep blue skies, but on such days, the temperature is too cold to stay outside for very long. So we’re well into the winter routine, which (when we’re not at work or school) includes lots of hot drinks, reading, watching sports on TV, and venturing outside periodically to move the new snow that has accumulated on the walk and the driveway.
Meanwhile, the lectionary has us reading about Jesus calling his disciples and beginning his Galilean ministry. He’s outdoors most of the time, conversing, teaching, and healing on hillsides, along the shore of a lake, and even in a boat. These stories don’t all unfold in the summertime. It could be January or February when Jesus visits Peter and Andrew on the beach of the Sea of Galilee. In northern Israel, the climate is always warm. I visited the Holy Land in October. In Galilee, it was so hot I had trouble staying hydrated. Around the Sea of Galilee, which is 600 feet below sea level, daytime temperatures were in the 90’s. Around the Dead Sea, 1200 feet below sea level, they topped 100. Jesus could have feasibly carried on his itinerant ministry, traveling dusty roads from town to town, all year long. In fact, the gospel of John says he went to Jerusalem for Hanukah in December. That means he walked, presumably in sandals, all the way from Capernaum to Jerusalem around the time of the winter solstice.
If the Messiah had come to upstate New York instead of Judea, the gospel stories would have been quite different. For one thing, it would have taken Jesus three years to do here what he could do in one year there. So his ministry might have lasted nine years. He would tell parables about shoveling snow, chopping ice off the roof, and the folly of clearing your snow blower with your hands. He would not be wearing open-toe sandals and a loose robe. He would have dressed more like the Inuit or the Eskimos. If he appeared to us today, we wouldn’t recognize him with all that extra clothing on. Actually, we don’t recognize much of anybody until they remove at least one layer of clothing.
Historically, people who live in the Snow Belt have been survivors. We pride ourselves on our ability to keep going regardless of how deep the snow gets. Our kids still get to school. We still make it to work. For this reason, we suspect that our characters are a bit stronger than those of people in warmer climates. Surviving is no small matter. Because it is an accomplishment, survival seems like enough. In this context, I wonder how Jesus would talk about “abundant life.”
Thankfully, tradition has added a lot to Christian observance so that it is more relevant to people like us. The whole period from Advent through Epiphany is about darkness and light – not a theme absent in the New Testament – but one much more worthy of emphasis here. Christmas as we know it – with evergreen trees and lights as we “hail the Sun of Righteousness” – would never have developed in the Middle East. The traditional Christmas reflects more of Norway than Nazareth. Most likely, the close connection between Jesus’ resurrection and spring is also the result of Christianity spreading to cold, northern climates. On those dark, gray days when the falling snow lays another shroud over the landscape, we feel the death of nature and long for its rebirth. Yes, Jesus was resurrected during springtime, but I doubt the connection to the season held much meaning until northern European pagan rites of spring were transformed into the Christian celebration of Christ’s triumph over death. Socked in behind snow banks as high as the tops of our windows, we northerners need words of assurance about light, warmth, and new life.
So, the gospel stories set in warm, sunny Galilee may not easily resonate with winter-worn northerners, but on the other hand, the re-imagining of the Christian story for the benefit of cold-climate Christians has become standard for all believers. When I was a child, raised in a sub-tropical climate where snow was rare and people were still mowing their lawns in December, we freely associated Christmas with snow. We drew snowmen, sang about sleighs with jingle bells dashing through the snow, and imagined Mary wrapping baby Jesus in a warm blanket while snow fell gently over the stable. I remember at some point wondering where we got this notion of Christmas.
Since I moved here 20 years ago, I've stopped wondering. Now I know.
Copyright 2011 by J. Mark Lawson
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