A New York Christmas Story

There’s nothing like New York City during the Christmas season. There’s a certain magic to it. But it’s also one of the most congested places on earth. Even if you’ve done crowds in other cities, you have to channel your inner farm animal and be ready to move mindlessly down the streets in a herd.

The subways are another thing altogether. Commuters packed like sardines, sitting and standing inches apart, avoid eye contact. And if you accidently do eyeball someone, a “normal” New Yorker will instantly look away. We’re not antisocial. It’s just that if it happens to be a “crazy” New Yorker we’ve locked gazes with, eye contact is like an invitation to their crazy. So, everybody looks past each other, keeping to themselves – holiday cheer be damned! But I do recall one holiday subway ride when something strange and wonderful happened… a New York yuletide miracle.

It was the late eighties and Char and I were church planting. We had gathered a home group that met in Gateway Plaza, an apartment complex in the financial district of Manhattan. One evening during the holiday season we decided to go caroling at the Rockefeller Plaza Christmas tree.

It was rush hour as we made our way through the crowded lower concourse underneath the old World Trade Center, hopped on a packed E train full of tired, spaced-out office workers and headed uptown. Everyone was observing proper subway etiquette – minding their own business. The only sound was the loud rumbling of the train.

I don’t recall who started it, but someone from our group began singing Silent Night… out loud! One by one, others of our group joined in until we had our own choir going. It was good too. It didn’t hurt that we had a couple of professionals in our group to carry us. It was pretty hard to ignore even for a bunch of hardboiled New York commuters. The song began filling the subway car…

Silent night, Holy night
All is calm, all is bright

As we interrupted their commute, people began glancing up with condescending looks on their faces…

Round yon Virgin, Mother, Mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild

Slowly their cool, snooty expressions began to melt away. They became wistful and misty – as if they were being transported to a more innocent time in their lives when miracles were still possible…

Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

And with those words, the atmosphere changed. A strange calm filled the subway car. Other passengers joined in the singing…

Christ, Christ, the Savior is born
Christ, Christ, the Savior
Christ, Christ, the Savior is born

It was as if time froze. We were in sacred space! All that was missing was an announcement over the intercom: “We interrupt your regular scheduled commute to bring you this breaking news… That good feeling you’ve got right now – that’s Jesus loving you. He’s what Christmas is all about!”

Before we knew it, we were rolling into the Rockefeller Center station and it was a normal evening rush hour again. But it was anything but normal for those of us in that subway car that night when THE Spirit of Christmas broke in on a group of unlikely, hard-nose New Yorkers riding the E train home from work.

I often think back on that subway ride and I’m reminded of something Norman Vincent Peale once wrote: “Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.” Oh how we could use more of those evenings…

Have a blessed Christmas everybody!