For most people Christmas is a
rapidly-diminishing memory. The unwanted gifts have been exchanged or
returned, the decorations pulled down and boxed up for another year, and the
added weight finally accepted--with renewed zeal applied to diets or exercise
routines. January has come. What of Christmas?
For the remnant of Christians in our country who know that
the “12 Days of Christmas” are not the twelve shopping days before December
twenty-fifth, there is both a privilege and a certain sorrow along about now
each year.
For us, Christmastide is alive, though in its final phase. Most of us have our trees up, are listening to carols
(especially recordings of some of the more obscure compositions about the
season), parties are being given, and the merry lights of the season shine
still, culminating in the Epiphany with its delight in finding Christ and
worshipping Him. Only then do we take down many of our decorations (leaving
some up, perhaps, for Candlemas on February 2). True, we stick out like sore
thumbs in the neighborhood or the apartment complex, but we remain faithful to the season’s full dimension. This
is our joy; the sorrow is that something so beautiful as Christmastide has to
be consumed and tossed aside with such alacrity in a culture that seems unable
to savor anything.
The last days of Christmastide provide a gentle period of
continued feasting and reflection. We feast on food not only for the body, but
for the soul—recalling a truth that it takes both kinds of food to be truly nourished (this is the reason for so
much of the hunger out there that cannot be filled with more snacks alone).
We also reflect on what it means to live with an incarnate
Savior. That God came into the world in
the flesh has always been a scandal to many. It is so—well—messy. After all, we normally have this
thing pretty well figured out: God stays in heaven and we stay busy on earth.
Everyone stays in the lines, and we get to worship the surety of “death and
taxes.”
But now here comes the Christ-child, born into our world…the
one we have come to think as our own. He comes in peace, but must in fact fight
a war. He comes to be our friend, and yet we so often try to turn him into the
enemy because he broke “the rules” of division between ourselves and our
God—the rules we so rigidly enforce.
So now we arrive at the end of Christmastide. In the
world around us, things are getting back to normal, “normal” here meaning we return to our lives of work and worry, and God—to the degree God was invited
to the party to begin with—is put back into heaven. With April 15 now on the horizon, death and taxes are
enthroned once more.
Not for us, However. These waning days of Christmastide
provide space to contemplate the truth that we may never go back to the “old
life” before Christ Jesus. God is in the world. Our lives are being
transformed. Hope is available. Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness
does not overcome it. We may choose to look away, but the light is still
shining, and we are called to be people of that light, doing the works of the
light, and bringing others out of the darkness of fear and loneliness into the
warmth of fellowship in Christ. The star leads us on to Bethlehem...again and again.
So, a merry late Christmas to you, and (through you) to
others!
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