Sometimes I wish the Wise Men had not seen the star in the east
and come to worship the baby Jesus. If they had not, or if Matthew
had not written about it, maybe we would not have developed the
tradition of Christmas gift giving, and Christmas would not have
become the orgy of spending and shopping that it is today.
Sometimes I wish the Wise Men had not seen the star in the east and come to worship the baby Jesus. If they had not, or if Matthew had not written about it, maybe we would not have developed the tradition of Christmas gift giving, and Christmas would not have become the orgy of spending and shopping that it is today.
Other times, particularly in an economic downturn, I enjoy shopping and spending for my friends and family. Consumption, even the almost inconspicuous consumption I indulge in, feels almost like a virtue now.
Another good thing about the economic downturn is that many companies are shutting their doors for a week or two over Christmas. Therefore many people (including my husband, who vehemently denies having workaholic tendencies) are being forced to rest and celebrate this season.
The economic downturn shows no signs of abating. Everyone seems to expect it will get worse before it gets better. Paradoxically, people express personal gratitude and hopefulness. Maybe it is just the crowd I hang with, but the people with jobs are grateful to have them. Mayor Al says, “As long as we have our health, we have everything.” Even the cashier in the VF outlet, who is being laid off when the outlet goes out of business, says cheerfully that she is going to enjoy having some time off.
Personally, I am grateful for three weeks of Christmas break. Being part of
the majority religion in this country is good, because my job gives me a vacation just when I need time to get ready for the holidays.
Paradox number 2: the bustle of the holidays makes it harder for me to appreciate the holy days. I have obligations during Christmas break: cooking, family dinners and get-togethers, shopping, wrapping, gift giving, mailing packages, parties. Throw in a graduation, and it makes for a crowded schedule with plenty of joy, but very little peace.
But the essence of holiness, the very meaning of the word holy in Hebrew, is separate, set apart, of God. And most of my Christmas is about togetherness, about family. There is precious little separateness in my Christmas.
I snatch peace and holiness in small doses. I hang stars and angels on the tree and set the crèche on the wall unit reverently. I wish people “Merry Christmas!” shamelessly. I hum Christmas carols with the loudspeakers in stores and sing aloud, probably off-key, in the car when no one is around to wince.
And I read the gospel accounts in Luke and Matthew. I have only been a Christian for 15 years, so every year, I am struck anew with how doubtful everyone in the Gospels seems about the good news.
Face to face with the angel Gabriel, Mary asks, “How is it that I will bear a child, seeing as I have not had sex?”
Joseph is ready to put her away privily when he learns she is pregnant. He knows how pregnancy occurs. An angel has to visit him personally to reassure him that the baby conceived in his fiancee is of the Holy Spirit. Even the shepherds do not just take the word of the heavenly host; they run into town to see the thing which has come to pass, which the Lord hath made known to them.
But none of those people had any trouble understanding that the baby was to be named Jesus, which means Savior, because He would save the people from their sins. Unlike us enlightened moderns, they knew that they were sinners.
We moderns do not really believe in sin. We excuse ourselves – I was young. Or justify ourselves – I am from a dysfunctional family. We call good evil – you are so judgmental. We call evil good – freedom of choice. We take the deadliest sin of all and celebrate it – pride.
God is holy, separate. He requires of humans that we be humble. But He humbled Himself to become a human baby, of an impoverished family, so that He could pay the penalty for our sin and make us holy. That is amazing love.
Merry Christmas.
Cynthia Anne Walker is a mother of three, a mathematics teacher and a former engineer. She is a published, independent author. Her column appears each Friday.
