I've tried to write this five or six times now, each time erasing what I've written. My grandma has written about missing out on the reason for Christmas, and it has made me stop and take stock of why I really celebrate.
I like to think it's for the coming of Christ, that I know the true meaning as I gaze at long lines of grumpy people on spending sprees at the mall, that I say "Merry Christmas" instead of "Happy Holidays" at Target, that I don't buy gifts for myself in December but instead buy for Angel Tree children and drop change into the Salvation Army buckets.
But after reading her post and thinking about it--really thinking about it--I'm starting to wonder if it's because I love red velvet and evergreen boughs decorating my table, Christmas mugs filled with hot chocolate, Christmas Eve services that make me feel sappy and nostalgic, and buying gifts for others that make me feel benevolent.
And I won't do it because my children are too young to understand--and honestly because I'm not sure I can--but I'm tempted to take all the decorations down. To unstring the lights and put the ornaments back in their bins. I'd like to take back the gifts I've bought and erase my own Christmas wish list, put away my Winterberry china and stash the Christmas music back in the attic. I'd like to strip Christmas of what it has become and return to what it was meant to be.
And on Christmas morning, instead of spending it in a flurry of gift-giving and receiving and stuffing myself with holiday food, I'd like to spend it in quiet reflection of what it really means that Jesus Christ, God Himself, clothed Himself in humanity and gave up His dignity to be born in our broken, fragile world. That He still came, fully knowing that not too many years later, after being rejected by most He would meet here, He'd be crucified. And He did it all for love. He didn't do it so I could have warm, comforting Christmas memories; He didn't do it so I could spoil my children with too many gifts; He didn't even do it so I could show benevolence to others--He did it to save me from the depths of my own sin. And He did it so that I, after receiving that, would share that same gospel with others around me who are still drowning.
And I wonder if, on Christmas evening, I'd still feel that vague, unsettling unrest of soul I usually feel as I look around the spoils of the day and know that I missed something. That I spent the month trying to achieve and accomplish and attain, and that in the end it'll all be long gone, anyway. I wonder, if I spent the day in stillness before Him, would Christmas turn into something truly magical? Something satisfying? I think so, but I'm afraid I've become too saturated with this world to try it. That alone takes away a lot of the lustre of the gold ribbons and twinkling Christmas village lights, and I realize that somewhere along the way I missed the point. And I wonder, on this December morning, if it's not too late to start over? Because that would be the best gift I could receive this year. Thank you, Grandma, for reminding me of the Reason for it all.
That was very well-written. And you make some really good points. Maybe this is why the New Testament admonishes against celebrating special holidays (Galatians 4). Although I'm not sure that throwing out all the cultural Christmas traditions is the answer either. I would hate to deprive my kids (and myself) of the fun festivities that the rest of the culture enjoys.
ReplyDeleteI have heard of another approach, to celebrate Christmas as a fun cultural tradition, but to actually leave Jesus out of it, which sounds downright HERETICAL to our Christian ears. But if we are truly living as we should, we would be focusing on what Jesus did for us throughout the year. That's what every Sunday is about, of course. And after all, the birth of Jesus was not something the Early Church celebrated, but rather a development in the 3rd century, copying the pagan celebrations of the day? So I don't think it's unbiblical to ignore Christmas. And yet, I can't get comfortable with this approach either.
So we sort of do both, talk about the birth of Jesus with our kids, and also enjoy the Santa traditions and all. But in doing that, I share your feelings of unrest, as if we are missing something. And yet I don't know what to do differently.
You've given me a lot to think about. Thanks for your openness. And sorry for writing a book in your comments.