Enfield
Maybe it has to do with the outpouring of extravagance, not just in the form of shopping, but in everything from the music to the sweets to the holiday celebrations. The darkness that comes earlier after daylight saving time expires leads to my reticence. There seems to be too much noise, too much color and too many people. There’s the added stress of making holiday plans and hunting for (or making) perfect gifts.
Everything just seems too much, and it’s sometimes hard for me to catch my breath.
And so, with that in mind, last Wednesday night my best friend and I made our way to La Salette Shrine in Enfield to see the Christmas lights. The display has been going on for decades, according to Father John Sullivan, who presides over the Catholic shrine nestled into a hillside across from Mascoma Lake on Route 4A near the Enfield Shaker Museum.
It’s a hard sight to miss: Thousands and thousands of lights beam into the dark, made into shapes of angels, trees, flowers, stars and gingerbread men, among others. As we walk toward the lights, we hear Christmas music from speakers and stop, stunned by the display.
My friend and I are not religious. I was raised Catholic, but left the church more than a decade ago. My friend comes from a family of Mormons. Both of us believe there’s something out there in the universe, but we don’t go further than that. At La Salette we check ourselves, we watch our language, we keep solemn; just because we’re not believers doesn’t mean we don’t respect the sanctity of the shrine.
When I think of the Catholic Church of my youth at Christmastime, I remember poinsettias adorning the altar, the candlelight, a manger and red bows. La Salette does not fit with that stereotype. At first glance, the lights are overwhelmingly bright, almost garish. There’s just so much to look at — too much — and it’s hard to focus on an individual angel or star. But as our eyes adjust, we try to do just that.
This year’s theme is “Paths to Our Peacemaker.”
“I have a sort of soft spot for working with immigrants and people from other countries,” Sullivan told me earlier that day, “and how it’s so important that we respect different cultures and recognize that one culture isn’t superior to the other. We all have something to give.”
Sullivan, who worked in South America for nearly 20 years, holds a monthly Mass in Spanish at La Salette. “We’re all children of God,” he told me. “We’re all families, no matter what language we speak.”
But as my friend and I walk around, I’m not thinking about my misgivings about religion or the holiday season. Instead, I’m reflecting on something else Sullivan said to me earlier that day: “I really believe that we all have gifts, we all have talents to make the world a better place. I hope that people won’t be discouraged,” he said, adding that today’s politics can be depressing. “We have that power of decision to build up, rather than tear down.”
And through our actions we can do that. We can choose to get annoyed by the Christmas goods that seem to fill up stores earlier and earlier. We can choose to roll our eyes at singing Christmas trees and light-up sweaters, of which I am admittedly guilty. We can buy into the commercialism of the holiday and think that the gifts we give our loved ones will somehow change their opinions of us. We can get caught up in the objects of the season, instead of the object.
Or we can stop for a minute, step away from the too much, and look to what really matters.
“How important it is to have a sense of compassion and understanding,” Sullivan said. “To me, that’s what Christmas is about. A big part of it is forgiveness, too. Not to let resentment and things from the past (build up) … to realize the importance of family.”
“Its about reconciliation,” he continued. “That’s the key word … trying to bring us back to God and bring us back to one another, so that we can recognize that we’re all sisters and brothers. No one is an island.”
I look beside me at my best friend, who has been a big part of my life for the better part of a decade, as she walks quickly along the path of lights. We point out things that give us joy and snap photos on our phones. Even when we lived farther apart, we never got further from each other. There is a bond there that keeps us grounded.
As we walk around, we get a little quieter, seemingly lost in our own thoughts. At one end of the hillside, the word “love” is accompanied by a double heart.
Is it possible for an ex-Catholic who is critical of overzealous Christmas displays to find peace at a Catholic shrine bursting with colored lights? It was for me. But whether that had to do with the homemade dinner I had at the canteen (a meatball sandwich, warm cider and two cookies for $4. I dare you to find a better deal in the Upper Valley), the pleasant conversations I had with volunteers and other visitors, or some otherworldly power that’s somewhere in the stars, it’s hard for me to say.
For a spell, I forgot about the Christmas gifts I’ve yet to buy and the hats I haven’t finished knitting. I let go of the cynicism that sometimes runs too deep and drives other thoughts out. Instead, I appreciated what was right in front of me: The lights, the homemade food and gratitude that I got to share it with one of the people who means the most to me in the world.
Editor’s note: The lights are on display from 5-9 p.m. each night through New Year’s Eve. There are also concerts, Masses and presentations that take place during that time. For a complete schedule, visit lasaletteofenfield.org or call 603-632-7087. The shrine also hosts a collection of more than 450 nativity sets from around the world, different interpretations of a family and a scene with a reach that defies language and geography. Liz Sauchelli can be reached at esauchelli@vnews.com or 603-727-3221.
