OPINION (AN COLUN): Turning towards hope, despite everything

DURING this time of the year there is something present of the paradise to come in the afterlife, surrounded as we are by the mood and atmosphere of Christmas; even during this terrible period when Covid, like the grim monster that it is, refuses to releases its bleak, brutal and seemingly neverending grip on humanity.
We are not far off two years of the pandemic and therefore many of us are feeling a bit like the characters in Waiting for Godot (if we think of Godot as representing pre-Covid reality). We want Godot. We are always on the lookout for him, but we are being repeatedly denied.
In Waiting for Godot Vladamir and Estragon are two men. They meet under a tree which has no leaves. They discuss many issues during which they reveal that they are waiting for the same man, Godot. Estragon tells us that he spent the previous night in a ditch and got beaten by an unnamed man.
A lot of the images in the play are bleak: mindless violence. A barren tree.
At one stage Estragon expresses the thought of someone who is depressed and suicidal. “I can't go on like this.”
Vladimir responds with, “That's what you think," which perhaps implies that Estragon is more resilient than he believes, which is, I think, one of the signs of hope in this text, a text which is not as bleak as some suppose.
There's good advice as well in the play: "We should turn resolutely towards Nature," comments one of the characters.
Another character says: “Why are we here, that is the question? And we are blessed in this, that we happen to know the answer. Yes, in this immense confusion one thing alone is clear. We are waiting for Godot to come...We are not saints, but we have kept our appointment.”
The play mirrors our human condition. We suffer because we exist. Suffering is inevitable for all of us, hitting us in varying degrees. During the pandemic we are all suffering and the degrees vary from those who are feeling depressed because they are being denied the activities that give life flavour, purpose and meaning, to those who are grimly fighting the disease in an ICU.
Confronted by life's brutality and unkindness it is natural for us to sometimes think that Gloucester in King Lear was correct: “As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; They kill us for their sport.”
Despite all of this, there is so much during our time here which is incredibly uplifting and special. The Beckett character points to nature as being a wonderful source of mental comfort. During this time Christmas is another form of mental comfort, because it focusses intensely on the very best qualities in all of us, namely kindness, forgiveness, compassion, empathy, love. It is filled with joy and hope. Life can badly pummel us with its vicissitudes, but there is a spirit within us which, when tapped into, makes us lift ourselves up from the ring's canvas. We may be bruised and bloodied but we are not broken.
One of the most therapeutic things you can do is put aside your rational, perhaps cynical, mind for a while and simply embrace the spirit of Christmas. Christmas reminds us that we have a choice in how we respond to life. We can feel depressed, but with a certain amount of effort, we can shake off this emotion and embrace happiness. We can choose to be kind rather than unkind.
On Sunday evening in Birr Church of Ireland a small gathering came together for our carol service. It was the first time that some of us had sung in a public setting for almost two years. It was the first time I had sung in a choir for two years and it felt really good to be once again part of a group singing event. One of the songs we performed was O Holy Night, which is one of my favourite carols. The words to this wonderful composition were written by the 19th Century poet and wine merchant Placide Cappeau. Cappeau wrote the words while on a train to Paris for a business trip. He lived in Roquemaure, a small town in the south of France. He was well known as the man with one hand, having been shot by his friend in a childhood accident which resulted in his right hand being amputated. In 1847, the parish priest of Roquemaure asked Cappeau to write the words for a Christmas song to be sung by opera singer Emily Laurey, accompanied by the church's newly renovated organ. The priest suggested Cappeau take his poem to Adolphe Adam, a composer well known at the time for his ballet Giselle, to write the music. Adam agreed. The first performance was in the church in Roquemaure.
It was later discovered that Cappeau was an atheist with strong anticlerical views, and the song was banned by church leaders. The ban was allegedly lifted after an incident during the Franco-Prussian war, when a French soldier jumped from the trenches as they were being attacked by the Germans and started to sing the song. The Germans were moved by this action, and in return sang a hymn by Martin Luther, before a truce was declared.