Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Christmas 2014

At the heart of Christmas for me--underlying all the arguments about whether a child was born in a stable in Bethlehem or about whether the setting should be displayed in public places or whether people should say "Happy Holidays" or "Merry Christmas"--is a longing for innocence, for grace, for family. 

People will naturally be cynical about these hopes and dreams--and that's understandable. We live in a world where too many don't get to realize their dreams, struggle not just for their piece of pie--but their crumb of bread. And hopes get exploited by displays of greed. We can dismiss the commercialism of the celebration--maybe also find ways to make it less so. ("Stocking stuffers" the sign read--really? $50 items? For some, that's not a stocking stuffer but a grocery bill.)

We pass by the "reason for the season" signs and Christmas music blaring out of car dealerships--maybe Jesus' family's shelter problems would have been solved with a new BMW?

Sure, we keep questioning the adventure that is Christmas, but this is a stubbornly persistent holiday, because gift giving and acts of kindness draw us in. So do surprises and although we may not embrace a literal view of an elf driving a pack of reindeer across the sky to houses all around the world, the story forms an undercurrent, its magic continuing to charm us. Why otherwise would Google offer a Santa Tracker?

The belief may not be literal but the hope for transcendence, for caring, for kindness won't be extinguished.

And whether one believes the Bethlehem story is literally true, the truth that it speaks is powerful: That, a family rejected and forced into a stable so that a woman can finally have a roof over her head when she gives birth, reminds us that even the poorest among us count, have real human needs, and that we have the power and responsibility to form a community to meet those needs. It reminds us that even at our lowest point, we have much more to offer the world than we know, and what we have to offer doesn't depend on what we have but who we are.

The arrival of the Magi reminds us that sometimes recognition and gifts come from unexpected places, and that we need to be open to surprises.

The need to flee in the face of Herod's demand to kill all boys two and under reminds us that we still live a world in which rulers exert their power by bloodshed, and that we need to look within and beyond for a better solution. It reminds us that even in times of joy there can be tragedy. At Christmas, deaths take on particular poignancy. My father's passing in 1965 on the day after Christmas, his favorite season, has made the time of year bittersweet, yet I relish it all the same and feel a special bond with it--and the memories it evokes of family past and present--and the way our extended family reached out to support us during that difficult time. Love is not just a sweet sentiment but my uncle cooking Christmas dinner the day before he lost his brother. We aren't spared tragedy but what we make of it can reassert the power of life and of love.

When bad things happen at Christmas, the wrongness of them is so much more pronounced because deep inside, we are aware of something sacred violated. And the pain some experience in the midst of abundance can remind us that those blessed abundantly need all the more to minister to those in pain, so that we are lifted together.

I hope for a Christian presence that isn't just about shaming and telling others they're wrong, but about reaching out in love.

Perhaps the bottom line in this Christmas story, whatever one's religious beliefs, is the power and the need for community, presence,and, most of all, love.

As Shakespeare wrote in Sonnet 116,

Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. 


This is not just a cozy, feel-good feeling,but durable, outlasting tempests, offering a true north, and keeping us headed home.