This morning many are feeling uncomfortable with the celebration of Christmas day. Kind of like the massage therapist, when asked if she would worship on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, began jabbering, incessantly, with excuse, all about all she had to accomplish by noon today and just hoping everything she wanted to purchase was still in stock. And then she will attend a party and
probably not have time to wrap most gifts. She is going to cross her fingers in trying to purchase huge gift bags so the children would have some surprise at the opening. It is just a reminder that not a few folks are fighting the battle and can only feel they are winning when they have met every shipping deadline, reciprocated every Christmas card, or averted every scheduling conflict. For some years now, I’ve noticed that victories, even I, might otherwise find slight, seem to become great feats during the holidays—finding a parking spot, getting my packages to Michelle for wrapping before she put away all her gift rap and ribbon, on and on. Other fights continue to brew, this early hour, over the accepting or rejecting of manger scenes, messiahs, and “Merry Christmases” in the face of less specific holiday tales and greetings. Though there seems to be an oscillation (new use of term) between who or what one might be fighting against—the clock, the perfect hostess, the family stressors, the agendas of others—everyone seems to be working toward tomorrow one insignificant round at a time.
probably not have time to wrap most gifts. She is going to cross her fingers in trying to purchase huge gift bags so the children would have some surprise at the opening. It is just a reminder that not a few folks are fighting the battle and can only feel they are winning when they have met every shipping deadline, reciprocated every Christmas card, or averted every scheduling conflict. For some years now, I’ve noticed that victories, even I, might otherwise find slight, seem to become great feats during the holidays—finding a parking spot, getting my packages to Michelle for wrapping before she put away all her gift rap and ribbon, on and on. Other fights continue to brew, this early hour, over the accepting or rejecting of manger scenes, messiahs, and “Merry Christmases” in the face of less specific holiday tales and greetings. Though there seems to be an oscillation (new use of term) between who or what one might be fighting against—the clock, the perfect hostess, the family stressors, the agendas of others—everyone seems to be working toward tomorrow one insignificant round at a time.
It was singing with the congregation the lyrics to a song during
the lighting of the second Advent candle, a couple of Sunday’s ago, I was
silenced by the image of a victory I need do nothing but join.
Joyful, all ye nations rise,
Join the triumph of the skies;
With the angelic host proclaim,
“Christ is born in Bethlehem!”
The triumph the Church invites the world to join as we celebrate
Christmas is far bigger than any of our best Christmases and more real than our worst.
O what pleasure I derive as I stand among the various generations of believers offering the same cries of victory shouted
on the very first Christmas night: Christ was born! God came near. God is
with us! The birth of Jesus was orchestrated at the hands of God long before
the inn would be full or the shepherds would be in their fields by night, long
before Bettyann’s and my traditions would seem etched in stone, (although I
didn’t hang lights this year) or some neighborhoods removing the Nativity from
the common area.
I’m thinking this morning that while there may be some ‘victories’
to rightfully seek this season, there are others I can let go of, lost with
Herod’s fight for control somewhere along the obscure path to a stable outside
of Bethlehem. The triumph of a God who so cares for creation that He joins all human beings within it is a victory already won. God is with us. Hallelujah! The triumph the church asks
the world to join as I and all people celebrate Christ’s birth is a triumph known from the
beginning, foreseen by the prophets, heralded by John the Baptist, and
cherished by witnesses whose voices still cry out the incredible news of a
Christmas story that will not change no matter what I think I am fighting
for:
“And there were
shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at
night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone
around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be
afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.
Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the
Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and
lying in a manger.’ Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with
the angel, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth
peace to men on whom his favor rests.'” Amen
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