As I write, the last third of one of my favorite movies is playing, "The Bishop's Wife". It likely couldn't be made today, a time when mankind has no need of angels, let alone God.
I am, like so many, home for the evening. Even though I am not much of a party person on such holidays, I usually do at least get out for dinner with a friend or two. But this year, unless one is rebelling against the restrictions which much of the country thinks is justified and the other half thinks is pure diabolic manipulation, one is staying put.
As I watch the movie, I am moved, by its thematic grace, but also by the fact that the moral center which it represents is long past in favor of a false utopian sensibility.
It is not a totally lost, this evening, in terms of the milk of human kindness. I ordered take out from Greenblatt's. I had a craving for a French Dip sandwich. The man who delivered it was a breath of fresh air, friendly, and happy, and wishing me a good New Year. I wished him the same. For a brief moment, I even felt it was possible that our New Year would improve and the gloom would dissipate. But that would have to be a miracle. Human beings think they can provide their own miracles these days. So, the moment did not last.
The movie has helped a little. Hark the Herald Angels Sing is the backdrop of a scene in the movie. The words we remember talk about a New Born King, who will transform the world an our souls.
I wish this night I could feel the hope for more than a passing moment. But I suppose that in the circumstances a passing moment is good enough.
I must seize the moment because God is in it. And then, maybe, the moment will become a lifetime, and then an eternity. I wish you the same as 2021 descends upon us.
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