OK, I know the origin of the fireball ceremony is pagan, but
I kind of like the symbolism of submerging the grot from last year into the
harbour, and starting into the new year without any baggage. And I know that
isn’t the thinking behind the fireballs, which have something to do with
scaring off demons. But we all take what we want from ceremonies and
traditions.
The fireballs were pretty impressive on Hogmanay, and there
was something special about being in a crowd of hopeful humans looking into the
new year together. It was a sober but friendly crowd, enjoying the camaraderie
of being in close proximity with strangers all there to view something rather
extraordinary.
After swinging these great balls of fire over their heads
while walking to the square and back to the harbour, the thirty or so
participants then headed for the sandy beach of the harbour. There they wound
up, literally – with various degrees of energy and power – and flung the
flaming torches into the waters of the harbour, where they sizzled and fizzled
and died.
A full moon shone down on the lightly lapping waters of the
North Sea, twinkling and dancing on the waves. The air was cold but not
unbearable. And then there were the fireworks, launched from the cliffs above
Stonehaven. Together the crowd oohed and aahhed and generally expressed their
joy or disappointment as successive salvoes of coloured explosives broke
overhead and twinkled their way to earth.
And so on into 2013. Prayerfully, I am launching my own
fireballs from last year at the foot of the cross of Jesus, and leaving them
there for him to deal with – be it fizzle or forgive or bear the weight for me.
I am grateful to have such a Saviour as I head into another
year, full of many unknowns, many of which lurk threateningly on the sidelines
of my mind. I pray that you and I may both be able to leave the grot with Jesus
and move on, unencumbered, into 2013.
God bless you.
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