There’s always a story behind designing a holiday card. For me, it’s a spiritual experience in itself, and I anticipate learning about Christmas and the beauty of the season with a fresh vision from God.
Looking back, every year I’ve searched to better understand the world as it relates to Jesus’ birth. This tradition has resulted in themes of peace, poinsettia legends, creation, snowflakes, hope, cardinals, trees, worship, angels, love, gingerbread men, stollen fruit bread, and light.
Phawnda Moore
And I remember these poignant words in the poem “First Coming,” by Madeleine L’Engle:
He came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.
We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!
This year, for many reasons, I chose a wreath. Painting in my hand-drawn circle reminded me its shape symbolizes God, with no beginning or end. The earth’s natural greenery, pine, cedar, holly and pinecones signify everlasting life through Jesus.
In the bleak winter season, Christians offer hope and renewal to the world by hanging a wreath on their front door. Or by painting a card to send out.
Our world was created with unity in mind, even before Christ. We find circles in planets, the sun and the moon. Historical structures built upon the circle shape attract millions of visitors a year.
One of the most significant is mysterious Stonehenge. Long ago in England, Stonehenge was built to align with the sun on the summer and winter solstices. Its sacred places, where the spirit of the land is felt most strongly, have some of the transported stones arranged in circles as places of worship.
The theories of why it was built engage the imagination: a place of healing, to make music, to mark the seasons, as a burial site. To this day, archaeologists and historians have gathered information that only seems to raise more questions, so it remains unsolved.
Other famous historical structures featuring circular construction include the Roman Colosseum and the Carnac Stones in France, both with significant cultural and ritualistic meanings associated with their shape.
While the cosmos and historical buildings are interesting chapters, how we humans relate to imperfect circles can bring us the greatest joy. Imperfect circles begin a process of understanding that shape in a personal way.
Enso circle (Wikimedia Commons)
When I teach brush lettering, I include an Asian practice of drawing an Enso circle. Students place a large ink-filled brush on paper without lifting it as they make the shape. Invariably the circle itself is not perfect because the whole idea is to embrace imperfection.
Creating one’s own Enso circle by hand comes from the heart, so the artist owns the potential of seeking wholeness and unity in their life. It also invites later meditation on these concepts. I invite you to try this simple exercise with your largest brush. It doesn’t matter if the ending stroke meets up with the beginning, just give it a try.
Similarly, other sacred, intentional practices, like making a mandala, fill a circle space with patterns while focusing on the process, not perfection.
Native American cultures have used circles as sacred symbols of the interconnectedness of the earth and respect for all living things, a medicine wheel for health and ceremonies. The circle also represented trust in relationships.
“Even when imperfect, there is power in the circle of love.”
Retired Bishop Steven Charleston speaks of the circle as units, as a balance in our personal lives, and defines the source: “There are four circles of health in which we live: the circle of our own health, the circle of our family’s health, the circle of our community health, and the circle of our metaphysical health. The first two circles are of intimate concern to us. The third circle can embrace our local community or the world. The fourth circle is our relationship with Mother Earth and Spirit. Being healthy is being in balance in each interrelated circle. Our diagnostic test: Is love at the center of each circle?”
Jesse Zink challenges us to look at a circle to define who we “follow” and who’s in the center of it: “God is always calling us to re-center ourselves and look to where God is acting — even now — in the world. It’s true that we draw in and gather together in church on Sundays but this isn’t the end of the story. We are here to be nourished and fed and strengthened so that we can be flung out again into the world, to those marginal and fringe areas outside our normal range of vision. We go to those areas to draw the circle of our lives wide to include all God’s people with God at the center.”
His new book, Faithful, Creative, Hopeful: Fifteen Theses for Christians in a Crisis-Shaped World, addresses much-needed direction for the church.
Always remember that even when imperfect, there is power in the circle of love. It is welcoming, protecting, a place to belong and, in following the Spirit, to reach out to others.
Like the first Christmas: “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
We trust that only Jesus is the true answer to the political confusion in worldly governments. He is a God of love and peace, our only hope.
May you find joy this season by knowing whom you belong to in the circle of life. Merry Christmas!
Phawnda Moore is a Northern California artist and award-winning author of Lettering from A to Z: 12 Styles & Awesome Projects for a Creative Life. In living a creative life, she shares spiritual insights from traveling, gardening and cooking. Find her at Facebook: Calligraphy & Design by Phawnda and Instagram: phawnda.moore