Long Lay the World
Catholic Free Press
Even though it was a lake, I was in the smoothest water imaginable swimming out to the middle, a little scared to be alone, but loving the feel of the water. I flipped over on my back, the water rushing up around my ears in overwhelming silence, and I looked straight up at the stars, so perfect I could get lost in them and almost believe it actually was Heaven.
Then a hungry baby woke me, and just like that I was in our home holding him, thankful everyone else was still fast asleep, the night indeed quite silent, a rarity in a home with six kids. Night feedings can be thoughtful moments, and I thought of something I read about Descartes and skepticism earlier in the day, probably the reason for my dream. Can we ever be sure that what our senses tell us is real?
There’s something to that isn’t there? A few minutes earlier I was certain I was swimming in a clear lake; now I’m feeding a baby, certain that I dreamed it. Is either experience less real than the other? Outside, in the real sky there were stars glimmering. Light from the stars can take so many years to reach our eyes it’s possible the stars I saw no longer exist. Is this image different than the one of my dreams?
Meandering still, I thought about something J.R.R. Tolkien wrote. “Just as a word is an invention about an object or an idea, so a story can be an invention about Truth.” He argued that there is inherent truth in mythology, that the story of Christ is the deepest reality of man, God’s story – His Story. We are all a part of history, even me thinking about water, stars, Heaven, hungry babies, Descartes, and Tolkien.
Then I realized what stirred my soul in that dream. Advent begins soon, Christ the King is coming, and those beautiful words flowed into my mind. “O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining; it is the night of the dear Saviour’s birth. Long lay the world in sin and error pining; till He appeared, and the Soul felt its worth.” Yes, that is the greatest story, the deepest reality of all, our Saviour. Letting the other thoughts go, I just stared at our precious infant imagining what it would have been like to hold baby Jesus, hoping that maybe someday Mary would let me, and I fell back to sleep smiling.
 Jeune femme et enfantWilliam-Adolphe Bouguereau |
H/T: Anthony S. Layne at Outside the Asylum for introducing me to this video clip.
Category: Catholic Free Press
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This is a really beautiful reflection, Stacy.
Beautifully said… I love Tolkien's poem about creativity “we make still by the law in which we're made”… truth reveals itself in beauty, does it not? Whether that beauty is dreamlike stillness, or the very real and un-stillness of life.
Yes, beautiful. When I was a child, I thought about things like that – i.e., what's “real” and how do you know. I once told my dad that I figured everyone saw colors differently, because if we all saw them the same, we would all have the same favorite color (blue, of course!). He told me in no uncertain terms that that was crazy thinking and I should not talk about such things to other people.
But he loved me!
Anyway, your post itself has all the qualities of “O Holy Night”.
This may be my favorite post of yours.
Oh Holy Night is my favorite Christmas song. And this is lovely.
Beautiful. Love the widget.