Some readers may remember the chorus to the song “My Grandfather’s Clock”: ‘Ninety years without slumbering, tick tock, tick tock, his life’s seconds numbering, tick tock, tick tock, but it stopped short never to go again when the old man died’.
This refrain came to mind this Christmas. This year Christas arrived on a Sunday, the day of the week when I discharge my hebdomadal duty of winding the eight-day grandfather’s clock situated in our front hall. This handsome timepiece has been in the family for six generations and dates back to when Thomas Jefferson was president. Although it has been ticking along nicely as long as I can remember, I recently had it serviced (a strange word for such a venerable instrument). I was mindful of my responsibility to hand it on to family members for the next two centuries and determined that it not suffer the fate of its counterpart in the song.
The clock is more than an admirable object adorning our home. All here agree it is a soothing and unfailing presence whose gentle ticking and hourly chiming reassure us that life goes on and that all is well. This reassurance is somehow enhanced by our understanding that these same steady, uninterrupted sounds were heard by those who came before us and – unless we are irresponsible custodians – will be heard by those who follow.
The clock is a masterpiece whose numerous parts meticulously collaborate. Its pivots, pallets, pullies and bushings operate flawlessly with its regulating spikes pendulum bob, moon and calendar dials, and, of course, its hour, minute and second hands. In spite of this mechanical complexity, its smooth operation depends on only two simple forces: gravity and weekly winding. The first is free and ever present while the second requires minimal response.
It occurred to me as I was providing its weekly wind on Christmas Day that being the custodian of an heirloom such as this – especially one that functions and requires so little attention – resembles being the custodian of the faith of one’s family. The similarity is threefold. First, faith comes to us by grace, which – like gravity – is gratis and constant. Second, as with gravity and the grandfather’s clock, faith to be effective and sustained requires some ongoing collaboration on our part. Third, the preservation of faith needs us to recognize and accept that we are links in a generational chain and, as such, responsible for handing in what we ourselves gratuitously received.
Just as those before us have done faithfully and annually for two millennia, as we once again celebrate that first Christmas, that fusion of eternity with time, I pray that this eight day grandfather’s clock which embellishes our home and enriches our lives not stop ticking on my watch.
A joyous Christmas tide and prosperous New Year to all our readers.