The UNholy Night

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
are you
FEELIN’ IT?
. . .not a whole lot of joy right now in the world,
huh. . . ?
Who
W H O
would have ever thought we’d forget about
COVID-19
in less than a week
with all of the riots
lootings
shootings
protestests
U N R E S T

It feels like the World
is getting tossed about
like a big beach ball
that everyone wants to
bat around
or kick
BUT NOT GRAB A HOLD OF
or just
C A T C H
. . .has it ever felt like
THIS
b e f o r e
searching for a
pulse
a heartbeat
that just doesn’t seem to
exist

I was in seventh grade, just a 13-year-old boy the night at Martin Luther King, Jr  was assassinated.  I distinctly remember it as if time stood still as my parents watched a news cast, that interrupted our regular programming; it wasn’t so much what my parents said as what their faces were shouting: HORROR. SHOCK. SADNESS. . .
I had seen that look on their faces when I came home from school as a nine-year-old boy the day that John F. Kennedy was assassinated. 
I remember telling them that night as Walter Cronkite tried telling us the facts, setting the scene, maybe this was a good thing so now people wouldn’t riot anymore or protest and remember even more distinctly how they explained to me how this was a terrible thing and that there may be even more unrest and violence and protesting. 
It was only a few days later when my dad was at a meeting and my mother and my two brothers and sister were at home and we heard a commotion out on the street and we went out on the porch there were hundreds of African-American people walking down our street from The Projects’ a few blocks away. Just walking. Not shouting. Not rioting. Not looting or burning anything. . .
Just walking. . .
They were going downtown for a peaceful protest in memory of Dr King.
I was terrified,
I had never seen a sea of people moving methodically down
a city street and its sidewalks;
I never wanted the protection of my father more than at that moment.
I have had other moments of being terrified and there’s a certain way your heart beats like at no other time than during
THAT FEELING.  . .
My heart has beaten that way over this past week making me feel like a scared-trying-to-figure-it-all-out-13 yr old boy. . .

This Christmas tree is in my office overlooking my desk;
It was a gift a couple of years ago from my office buddies,
two great Social Workers,
Jen and Rachel
who have done of some of their best work on me;
they appropriately celebrated my Birthday by proclaiming it,
MERRY CHUCKMAS
. . .the 25th of every month
I usually post some Christmas scene as a reminder that it’s
MERRY PRACTICE CHRISTMAS
and everyone on FaceBook gets really annoyed
and tells me
“DON’T RUSH IT”
or
“IT’S WAY TOO EARLY”
as if it was a curse for them to carry
or a chaotic Season to be avoided,
BUT HERE’S THE TRUE REASON:
Because I want the World to be now
what it is
T H E N
kind
caring
loving
accepting
forgiving
giving
peaceful
happy
content
and I just don’t want it to be contagious
I want it to be
e v e r l a s t i n g
I want the message of Christmas
to be a message of
N O W

To be a
LIGHT
no one was looking for
AND FINDS,
a n y w a y. . .
So on the 25th of every month
I play Christmas Carols
but I’ve been playing them a lot since
George Floyd
was brutally killed
in front of all
us. . .
My Favorite?
O HOLY NIGHT. . .
2nd verse:
Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is Love and His gospel is Peace;
Chains shall he break, for the slave is our brother,
And in his name all oppression shall cease,
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful Chorus raise we;
Let all within us praise his Holy name!
and then the
CHORUS
which now forever haunt me:
FALL ON YOUR KNEES
(Fall on your knees,)
(Fall on your knees,)
(I can’t get the image out of my head of a police officer’s bent knee on the neck of Mr. Floyd)
Oh hear the angel voices!
O night divine! O night when Christ was born.
O night, O holy night, O night divine.
SO
so, so many
UN-HOLY NIGHTS
knowing that ultimately
LOVE CAN’T BE LEGISLATED
but it can be
abundantly given
making us all
hopeful
grateful
affected
victims
of its power. . .

We need a little Christmas
in all of its shapes and sizes
with an ample amount of flavor
to keep it fresh. . .
talk about a different heart beat

B E
I T