This is the twelfth and final reflection on Christmas posted during the 12 Days of Christmas.
12 days ago the idea of reflecting on Christmas for twelve days began with a reaction I had to Don Miller's tweet about giving "Christ the entry he deserved but did not orchestrate himself." This, I thought to myself, is the problem with Christmas. We try to make it into something it is not meant to be.
I need to confess that I don't like Christmas. I haven't liked Christmas for a long time. I don't know when it started but I can hardly remember a time when I did like Christmas. I remember talking to my mom about Santa's existence and feeling betrayed by the adults who would perpetrate such an elaborate ruse. In high school, I remember my Grandpa Jones admitting that he didn't like Christmas. It reminded him of family (parents and siblings) that he left back in Wales to come to the United States as a boy. I don't know if these things triggered my dislike of the holiday but I know that it has grown over the years.
My reflections over these twelve days of Christmas were an attempt to put my feelings about Christmas into perspective. As I have written them I have noticed some themes. Here is what I think I am learning this year at Christmas:
Christmas is an elaborate production. For most people, Christmas has become an opportunity to become the stage manager in our personal Christmas pageant. Sets and scenes are created. People are directed to come and go on cue. We carefully choose costumes (note the popularity of ugly sweater parties). Every sense is engaged as carols waft in the background and mingle with the taste and smell of Christmas baking. Even though claim this is not what Christmas is about, just try to take it away and see how you are treated.
I believe that Christmas is about the real presence of the Divine in our lives. I believe that we can only recognize that presence in quiet, reflective moments. Yes, God is present in our elaborate productions but we have a hard time detecting that presence when there is so much to distract us. Sometimes it feels like the production is there specifically to keep us from experiencing the Presence that we seek.
Christmas is primarily about the tradition. Traditions are ways that we stay rooted to predominant cultural values. Because we are in a time of great cultural flux there is an increased desire to cling to these traditions. In fact, the traditions have become more important than the facts.
This is the most annoying part of Christmas to me. I am all for observing traditions as long as they convey some meaning. I detest traditions when the meaning has been lost and we simply observe a tradition because it has always been done that way. (Let me tell you about weddings some day.) I believe the fact that we cling so strongly to traditions reveals an inherent mistrust of God's presence in our lives. It is part of the human desire to remain where God was and not venture out to where God is.
Christmas is blended together. Everything about Christmas has been thrown into a big blender and there is no way to make distinctions between the religious and non-religious. As one friend replied to a post, "Perhaps there is no secular."
This is the part that I have to work on. This is the thing that can make Christmas better. In all of the productions and all of the traditions God is present. This is what happens when God relinquishes control and becomes vulnerable. We humans become partners in a creative endeavor. The best creative impulses are mash-ups of dreams, attempts, successes and failures. Christmas will change. Well, the traditions will change. But the presence of the Divine will not.
With that in mind, let me share my favorite Christmas song. A true mash-up of religious and non-religious traditions. Merry Christmas.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Christmas Exposed
This is the eleventh in a series of 12 personal reflections on Christmas posted during the 12 Days of Christmas.
Evidently there area a lot of things that I don't get about Christmas. The musings that I have posted over the last 10 days have been an attempt to sort some of it out. But there is one part of the Christmas story that still stupefies me. It is a part that we rarely talk about.
Christmas is about being vulnerable.
Christmas is a season where we go to great lengths to show that we are in control. On top of already busy lives we toss in parties, shopping, decorating and then insist on a facade of cheer. There is no place for sadness or depression. There is no place to admit that we belong to screwed up families. There is no place to be realistic about finances or the fact that we already have more than we need. It is not acceptable to be tired, weary, worn or grumpy. Be nice, smile and keep going. That's what we do at Christmas.
The Christmas story has long been interpreted this way too. In a crazy, messed-up, sin-ridden world God is in control and has a plan. God will send a Son into the world: A God-Man who will pay the price for our ticket out of here when we die. He will be nice. He will smile. And he will keep on going through the most agonizing and stress-filled events life can hand him.
The preacher says, "We should too."
But what if we interpret the story a bit differently. What if we see that in this crazy, messed-up, sin-ridden world God chooses to be completely opposite of "in control" and becomes totally and utterly vulnerable. Is there anything more vulnerable than a new-born infant? It can't communicate, can't move, can't find food or water on it's own and wouldn't be able to digest it if it could. A new born is as vulnerable and dependent on the care of others as anything I can imagine.
Now let's expand this notion a bit. If you are a God in control and you do choose to become human by birth wouldn't you choose to be born into a family with the means of supporting you? Yet in this story God chooses a peasant couple whose relationship is rocked to the point of breaking by the surprise pregnancy. They are displaced. Over the next few years they will be forced to move to a far country, leaving family and support structures behind even though they have no experience doing this. And why, please tell me why a God who wants to be in control would choose a time in history when infant and childhood mortality rates are so much higher than they are now.
The virgin birth is a small miracle compared to that of a child surviving to adulthood under these circumstances.
Maybe the Christmas story is God's way of saying that it's okay to be vulnerable; it's okay not to be in control. God will live in a family that is a bit dysfunctional. God will be forced to go places and do things by forces that are outside of his control. God will find peace in all of this by being a servant to the sick and lowly.
Then the preacher says, "Maybe we can too."
Evidently there area a lot of things that I don't get about Christmas. The musings that I have posted over the last 10 days have been an attempt to sort some of it out. But there is one part of the Christmas story that still stupefies me. It is a part that we rarely talk about.
Christmas is about being vulnerable.
Christmas is a season where we go to great lengths to show that we are in control. On top of already busy lives we toss in parties, shopping, decorating and then insist on a facade of cheer. There is no place for sadness or depression. There is no place to admit that we belong to screwed up families. There is no place to be realistic about finances or the fact that we already have more than we need. It is not acceptable to be tired, weary, worn or grumpy. Be nice, smile and keep going. That's what we do at Christmas.
The Christmas story has long been interpreted this way too. In a crazy, messed-up, sin-ridden world God is in control and has a plan. God will send a Son into the world: A God-Man who will pay the price for our ticket out of here when we die. He will be nice. He will smile. And he will keep on going through the most agonizing and stress-filled events life can hand him.
The preacher says, "We should too."
But what if we interpret the story a bit differently. What if we see that in this crazy, messed-up, sin-ridden world God chooses to be completely opposite of "in control" and becomes totally and utterly vulnerable. Is there anything more vulnerable than a new-born infant? It can't communicate, can't move, can't find food or water on it's own and wouldn't be able to digest it if it could. A new born is as vulnerable and dependent on the care of others as anything I can imagine.
Now let's expand this notion a bit. If you are a God in control and you do choose to become human by birth wouldn't you choose to be born into a family with the means of supporting you? Yet in this story God chooses a peasant couple whose relationship is rocked to the point of breaking by the surprise pregnancy. They are displaced. Over the next few years they will be forced to move to a far country, leaving family and support structures behind even though they have no experience doing this. And why, please tell me why a God who wants to be in control would choose a time in history when infant and childhood mortality rates are so much higher than they are now.
The virgin birth is a small miracle compared to that of a child surviving to adulthood under these circumstances.
Maybe the Christmas story is God's way of saying that it's okay to be vulnerable; it's okay not to be in control. God will live in a family that is a bit dysfunctional. God will be forced to go places and do things by forces that are outside of his control. God will find peace in all of this by being a servant to the sick and lowly.
Then the preacher says, "Maybe we can too."
Monday, January 3, 2011
Christmas Mash-up
This is the tenth in a series of twelve personal reflections on Christmas posted during the 12 Days of Christmas.
Okay. It is really starting to feel not like Christmas. The "holidays" are over. It's back to work today. Tomorrow it's back to school for the kids.
Yet three days of Christmas remain and I haven't touched on one of the most head-scratching aspects of Christmas yet. Namely, the mash-up between sacred and secular depictions of Christmas: Santa vs. Jesus.
I don't remember the first time I learned that December 25 was most likely not the day which Jesus was born but I don't think it surprised me. Christians co-opted the winter solstice celebration as a way of winning converts and giving the faithful a reason to celebrate along with the rest of the culture. It makes sense from a practical point of view and makes sense from a metaphorical point of view as well. (The return of the Son/sun; light of the world; lightens the darkness etc...) The Christmas tree, extra lights and bringing other natural decorations and signs of life indoors come from those pagan solstice celebrations. They have little to do with Christian belief or theology but are undeniable parts of the Christmas celebration. We even put Christmas trees and greens up in the Worship Room and other places around the church.
And then we have Santa Claus; the legend of the jolly, fat, toy maker who distributes gifts during the hours of darkness between Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. Santa Claus was originally Saint Nicholas. But over the years this 4th Century Bishop, who put a coin in shoes that were left outside the homes of poverty stricken families, morphed into the man in the red suit who pilots a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer. Secular culture has struck back, stealing an icon of faith and redirecting the focus of the celebration from Jesus' birth to gift giving.
To be honest, I have forayed into the Jesus vs. Santa debate too. I am no different than the ornament makers who depict Santa bowing down at the manger, worshiping the baby Jesus. One year I even had "Santa" interrupt my Christmas Eve sermon to tell everyone the "real" meaning of Christmas like an enlightened Linus in A Charlie Brown Christmas.
But I'm not so sure this has to be a debate. The more I learn about faith and tradition the more I realize that it is always a mash-up of the sacred and secular. Maybe that's because the story of Jesus' birth is about the sacred being mashed-up with the secular. God becomes human. It doesn't get more mashed up than that. In fact, the whole Jesus story as recorded in the scriptures can be interpreted as a tearing down of that false division between sacred and secular.
I'm afraid that our attempts to keep a distinct line between sacred and secular are simply ways of confining the sacred in a neat package that can be controlled or used to control others. Maybe the mash-up of Christmas traditions is God's way of telling us that it is okay to live with hope and love and generosity even when we are uncomfortable doing it in a religious way.
Okay. It is really starting to feel not like Christmas. The "holidays" are over. It's back to work today. Tomorrow it's back to school for the kids.
Yet three days of Christmas remain and I haven't touched on one of the most head-scratching aspects of Christmas yet. Namely, the mash-up between sacred and secular depictions of Christmas: Santa vs. Jesus.
And then we have Santa Claus; the legend of the jolly, fat, toy maker who distributes gifts during the hours of darkness between Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. Santa Claus was originally Saint Nicholas. But over the years this 4th Century Bishop, who put a coin in shoes that were left outside the homes of poverty stricken families, morphed into the man in the red suit who pilots a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer. Secular culture has struck back, stealing an icon of faith and redirecting the focus of the celebration from Jesus' birth to gift giving.
To be honest, I have forayed into the Jesus vs. Santa debate too. I am no different than the ornament makers who depict Santa bowing down at the manger, worshiping the baby Jesus. One year I even had "Santa" interrupt my Christmas Eve sermon to tell everyone the "real" meaning of Christmas like an enlightened Linus in A Charlie Brown Christmas.
But I'm not so sure this has to be a debate. The more I learn about faith and tradition the more I realize that it is always a mash-up of the sacred and secular. Maybe that's because the story of Jesus' birth is about the sacred being mashed-up with the secular. God becomes human. It doesn't get more mashed up than that. In fact, the whole Jesus story as recorded in the scriptures can be interpreted as a tearing down of that false division between sacred and secular.
I'm afraid that our attempts to keep a distinct line between sacred and secular are simply ways of confining the sacred in a neat package that can be controlled or used to control others. Maybe the mash-up of Christmas traditions is God's way of telling us that it is okay to live with hope and love and generosity even when we are uncomfortable doing it in a religious way.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Silently, How Silently
This is the ninth in a series of 12 personal reflections on Christmas posted during the Twelve days of Christmas.
This morning I am indulging an a rare luxury for a pastor. I am sitting quietly in my room with a cup of coffee and a donut on a Sunday morning. It's the last day of a week of vacation and it makes me smile to think that the hustle and busyness of the Sunday morning church routine is going on without me. I cherish the opportunities I have to sit quietly and reflect. I wish I had more.
For the past three days the words of the third stanza of O Little Town of Bethlehem have been an earworm in my mind. Actually, I didn't realize it was O Little Town until this morning. The fact that it is the third stanza is even more interesting. Over the years many Christmas carols have imprinted their first stanza in my memory and occasionally a second stanza but rarely a third. In case you aren't familiar with this particular stanza:
This morning I am indulging an a rare luxury for a pastor. I am sitting quietly in my room with a cup of coffee and a donut on a Sunday morning. It's the last day of a week of vacation and it makes me smile to think that the hustle and busyness of the Sunday morning church routine is going on without me. I cherish the opportunities I have to sit quietly and reflect. I wish I had more.
For the past three days the words of the third stanza of O Little Town of Bethlehem have been an earworm in my mind. Actually, I didn't realize it was O Little Town until this morning. The fact that it is the third stanza is even more interesting. Over the years many Christmas carols have imprinted their first stanza in my memory and occasionally a second stanza but rarely a third. In case you aren't familiar with this particular stanza:
Silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given
So God imparts to human hearts
The wondrous gifts of heaven
No ear may hear his coming
But in this world of sin
Where meek souls will receive him still
The dear Christ enters in
I've always thought of these words as refering to the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem. It was the quiet, almost unnoticed birth of a child in the poor part of town that was being referenced. But it is way more than that.
It is about the way that the Divine enters our lives every day: In the silent moments of reflection. In the meekness of gratitude and the realization that all of life and everything about it is a gift. Aren't these the places where grace and wonder come alive? Aren't these the times when we recognize the goodness that is in all the other places?
In my mind, Christmas is not just about December 25 or a single birth that took place in Bethlehem over 2000 years ago. Christmas is about the constant rebirth of love and wonder in our lives that can happen every day. We simply need to be quiet for a bit to see it.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Is Christmas Over Yet?
This is the eighth in a series of personal Christmas refections posted during the 12 Days of Christmas
It's weird writing about Christmas on New Year's Day. Christmas seems so past tense. It was last week for heaven's sake. The store's have started (if they aren't finished) putting away all the Christmas decorations. I've seen people post on Facebook that they have already cleaned up from Christmas. In our neighborhood some of the houses that have had Christmas lights on since mid-November have left them unplugged the past few days.
When I was a kid it felt like Christmas lasted a long time. Maybe it was because we had that two-week break from school that was known as Christmas vacation. As an adult I get one day off for Christmas (which a lot of pastor's don't) and one day off for New Year's. If I take vacation time I end up working more before and after the time off. If I don't take vacation it is right back to work.
Was there ever a time when people really feasted for 12 days at Christmas? In an agricultural society in the northern hemisphere there isn't a whole lot to do during the winter other than to tend to the animals. So perhaps Christmas was an excuse to get together and celebrate. Maybe it was a way to keep depression at arm's length and look forward to the longer and warmer days to come.
At our house we try to leave the Christmas tree and decorations up for the entire 12 days of Christmas. But that week after New Year's Day it seems more like laziness than ecclesiastical integrity. And to be honest, every day that I post on this Christmas blog it gets harder and harder to even think about Christmas. The last few days I feel like I am forcing the issue on people who have happily moved on. And we are only two-thirds of the way through Christmas.
So how long does Christmas last at your home? When do things get put away? When does it feel right to move on?
Maybe Christmas in our culture has moved to the days before December 25. Is that so bad?
When I was a kid it felt like Christmas lasted a long time. Maybe it was because we had that two-week break from school that was known as Christmas vacation. As an adult I get one day off for Christmas (which a lot of pastor's don't) and one day off for New Year's. If I take vacation time I end up working more before and after the time off. If I don't take vacation it is right back to work.
Was there ever a time when people really feasted for 12 days at Christmas? In an agricultural society in the northern hemisphere there isn't a whole lot to do during the winter other than to tend to the animals. So perhaps Christmas was an excuse to get together and celebrate. Maybe it was a way to keep depression at arm's length and look forward to the longer and warmer days to come.
At our house we try to leave the Christmas tree and decorations up for the entire 12 days of Christmas. But that week after New Year's Day it seems more like laziness than ecclesiastical integrity. And to be honest, every day that I post on this Christmas blog it gets harder and harder to even think about Christmas. The last few days I feel like I am forcing the issue on people who have happily moved on. And we are only two-thirds of the way through Christmas.
So how long does Christmas last at your home? When do things get put away? When does it feel right to move on?
Maybe Christmas in our culture has moved to the days before December 25. Is that so bad?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)