Father Christmas

Unmistakably, music is one of the ways I relate to the world around me, to seasons and events and to my emotions.

Amid that self-reflection came the realization that this holiday season, more than in other years, the songs that seem to capture my attention, and stir my feelings, are specific to, as the saying goes, the reason for the season.

I have listened to more versions than I can count of “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen.” It is mostly in E minor, with occasional flights to G major, and it is an affecting melody. It tells certain gentlemen that God should keep them merry — brave or happy — because Jesus Christ is born.

There are others in my rotation: “I Saw Three Ships,” performed by Sting or a group named Blackmore’s Night; their version of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing/Come All Ye Faithful and “O Come, O Come Emmanuel”; Nat King Cole singing “The First Noel”; Dave Matthews’ “Christmas Song.”

Dozens of other songs have been my soundtrack for the season, of course, including the Vince Guaraldi masterpiece “A Charlie Brown Christmas”; Peter, Paul and Mary’s “A Soalin’” and more than one version of “The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire).” As for the last one, I defy you to find a better rendition than Nat King Cole’s. This also is where he raises the eternal question: Is it reindeer or reindeers?

But I keep coming back to songs that are expressly about the birth of Christ.

The complaint, often trumped-up (no pun intended), about the so-called “war on Christmas,” is, to a degree, an understandable objection to the secularization of an event that has affected the world’s culture for more than 2,000 years.

Since I am in such a ruminative mood, I must confess that overt, even aggressive, expressions of religious faith make me uncomfortable. Some who insist that we should say “Merry Christmas” seem to do so aggressively. I have no interest in imposing my religious beliefs on someone else, and, most assuredly, I want no such imposition placed on me.

I support the notion of greeting people with “happy holidays,” out of respect for our differences — that someone else is free to believe what they choose, just as I am.

Assertive expressions based on religion make me uneasy for another reason: Faith is something that does not come easily to me. I am too much in my head, I suppose.

I admire those who have a humble sense of certainty about their faith, how it provides them a grounded sense of their place in a world awash in uncertainty. I am impressed by those who have no doubts about where we all go from here. It could be a comfort, and a joy, as the song goes. I take what solace I can in the hopeful passage that says: “Act as if ye have faith and faith shall be given to you.”

Why, then, do these particular songs — overt, if beautifully crafted expressions of Christian faith — speak to me this year more than in years past?

I do not know. I am left to speculate about my own thoughts and where they are taking me. The closest I can come is a feeling more than a thought — that we are in a time when it seems we are too much at odds with one another, not seeing that we all are on the same journey.

Perhaps it is because these specific songs speak to me of the teachings of Jesus — that we act with kindness, that we consider one another, that we be generous, that we forgive, that we seek peace, that we love one another.

I wish all of that, and more, for you and yours in the spirit of the season. And so I leave you with this, from “I Believe In Father Christmas,” the solo version by Greg Lake.

“I wish you a hopeful Christmas

“I wish you a brave new year

“For anguish and pain and sadness

“Leave your heart and let your road be clear.”