Janus is the Roman god of transitions, gates, doorways and new beginnings. The month of January is named after this ancient pagan deity. The word “janitor” also derives from Janus, suggesting that the New Year’s celebration is a time for us all to “clean up” our lives a bit – both materially and mentally. As 2011 closes this weekend with the New Year’s Eve festivities, it’s an occasion to consider the lesson of Janus.
I had my most powerful Janus encounter on New Year’s Eve in 1993. That year my mom died. The holiday season was a difficult time for me as I worked in London far from home as the bureau chief for an international news service. I turned down several invitations from my London friends to celebrate the New Year’s Eve with them. That night I watched a West End theater production all alone. After the play finished, I wandered the streets of central London, seeing celebrators engaged in Dionysian revelries as the midnight hour approached. I wandered over to Parliament and, along the Thames embankment near the statue of the warrior queen Boadicea, I found myself in a densely packed crowd, everyone waiting for the bells of Big Ben to signal the magic moment.
As the clock started its familiar chimes, the mass of people roared. Loud shouts and tooting horns filled the Westminster air. Strangers hugged strangers, everyone wishing everyone “Happy New Year!” I put a smile on my face, but I didn’t feel happy. I felt that at that midnight moment, I had just passed from one world – the world of 1993 – to a brand new world emerging – the world of 1994. Somehow, moving through that metaphorical doorway as Big Ben finishing its 12th strike, I felt sad I had forever left my mom behind in the world of 1993. I now had to move on in my life without her.
New Year’s Eve can provide a symbolic occasion to improve our lives a bit by cleaning up the mental garbage we’ve collected during the old year. This lets us organize our minds more effectively to prepare for new prospects in the new year. The Romans knew this. That’s why they created their god Janus with two faces. One face of Janus looks backward, signifying what we’ve done in the past 12 months can’t be changed. Let’s learn the lessons we need to learn and let go of the past. One face of Janus looks forward to the future, seeing the potential opportunities we can gain as a cycle of 12 new months begin.
This holiday season, Janus came symbolically into my life on two occasions. The first occurred at the Mission Church in San Juan Bautista last week. The Spanish padres and Native Americans who designed and built the church aligned it so that its entrance pointed to the rising winter solstice sun. On Dec. 21, if the weather is clear, the sun climbing from the horizon casts its light through a large window over the church’s main entrance doors. The sunbeam passes over the parishioners in the darkened church and hits the wall in the building’s far end. Over a span of several minutes, the rectangle of sunlight shifts slowly down to illuminate the church altar.
Some people scoff that this celestial special effect is mere coincidence. I have a hunch that it was intentional. The Spanish padres understood that the Christian faith has a connection to the cosmos, and so they designed the church to serve as a homily of hope. On the darkest day of our lives, light can pass through into our hearts if we open the window of our souls to the moment when the sun – or “Son” – rises.
My second recent encounter with Janus occurred on Christmas Eve. That evening, I returned home from a late afternoon hike at Henry Coe State Park where I had witnessed a dramatic sunset. I soon received a phone call from my friend Nelson, a former neighbor of mine who has lived 89 years. He told me he has stomach cancer. He would not seek treatment but would let the cancer take its course. He said he was ready to make the transition from one world to another. He looks forward to being reunited with his wife.
I felt the pressure of impending tears in my eyes as he told me these things. But I also felt happy for him. For years he had longed for his final sunset.
New Year’s Eve is a time for passing through a doorway to a new world. To do this effectively, we need to be “janitors” cleaning out the garbage of guilt and grudges in our lives and our minds. Let’s not carry old junk into the new year. That’s the lesson of Janus.
