In many homes of Scandinavian descent this morning, a young girl — perhaps the oldest daughter or granddaughter — will don a crown of candles and march through the house singing, and serving cakes and hot chocolate.
The “Lucia” tradition brings light to the darkest time of the year. Her song promises that sunlight, in the dark, cold north, will once again return on a red horizon.
In many homes, this has become another symbol of the hope of this season, often associated with the light and hope the Christ child brought to earth as he redeemed mankind from sin.
But it is by no means the only such tradition. People of Dutch descent may celebrate St. Nicholas Day either Dec. 5 or 6, when St. Nicholas, or Sinterklaas, visits homes, schools and hospitals and gives presents to children.
The Jewish traditions of Chanukah feature food and lights and celebrations of family.
Millions of other Americans, whether religious or not, will spend time decorating Christmas trees, shopping for gifts to give loved ones, baking traditional cookies, pastries and other foods from cherished family recipes, and gathering with loved ones.
In downtown Salt Lake City, tens of thousands will come to hear the Tabernacle Choir’s annual Christmas concert, this year featuring singer-actress Kelli O’Hara and actor Richard Thomas. Thousands more will come just to wander Temple Square and look at colorful Christmas lights.
British Nobel laureate Bertrand Russell once wrote that the loss of humility, or the “check upon pride” that comes from defining truth as something outside human control, signals “the road toward a certain type of madness.”
He called it “cosmic impiety.”
“Man, formerly too humble, begins to think of himself as almost a God,” he wrote. He also said, “fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, but wiser people so full of doubts.”
In the United States, and in much of the world, this is a season designed to remind us to stay humble, to keep destructive egos in check, and to be ever doubtful of hubris, or the idea that mankind can achieve lasting greatness on its own.
That concept is an important antidote to the arrogance on Capitol Hill, the screeching alarms of special-interest advocates, the worshipful fawning over celebrity and fame, and the incessant drumbeat of advertisements tempting us to elevate temporal, corruptible materialism over things of lasting, eternal significance.
It also can heal the wounds of crime, terrorism, disease, accidents and other tragic loss, pointing us toward a hope that shines brightly on the darkest day.
Humble doubts, in their most ennobling form, leave the mind open to glorious possibilities.
And traditions, carefully cultivated from generations long passed, point us toward things of lasting value this time of year.
Traditions, carefully cultivated from generations long passed, point us toward things of lasting value this time of year.
Look around you. Search for them. Cultivate them. Celebrate them with others. Let them remind you of the hopeful words of American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, now enshrined in a traditional Christmas song, that promise, “The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on earth, good will to men.”
As long as the sincere traditions of the season prevail; as long as we let them remind us of things much bigger than ourselves, the world will have hope.