Reflections of a Canadian Churchman

“And is it true?” And is it true? And is it true,           This most tremendous tale of all, Seen in a stained-glass window’s hue,           a Baby in an ox’s stall? The maker of the stars and sea Become a child on earth for me? And is it true? As we make our way into our churches or gather round our festive tables this Christmastime, do we believe that the Truth of the image illumined in stained glass is also the Truth that illumines our hearts?   In his poem Christmas, John Betjeman (1906-1984), the late poet laureate of England, utters these words “and is it true?”, as a cry that straddles faith and doubt as he observes the festivities unfolding.   Oh, to be sure, as we look around us during this advent season, the markings of Christmas are all there.   He writes, “The bells of waiting Advent ring,/ The Tortoise stove is lit again…”   and “The bunting in the red Town Hall/ Says ‘Merry Christmas to you all.’”   The signs are there, but is it true? Is it tru