These last few days before Christmas set a tone. It means, among other things, that life in churchland is a hub-bub of potluck lunches and bulletin drafts! Christmas Eve falls on a Monday so that requires all the planning and printing of bulletins must happen this week for both Sunday morning and Christmas Eve. Paper is flying every which way! I do, of course, exaggerate but I suspect that the border-line chaos that is happening here is a parallel to what is happening in other settings as families prepare for Christmas celebrations. This may mean shopping, baking, wrapping gifts, making travel plans, packing suitcases, making phone calls, writing cards, preparing the guest room and on and on the lists go.
How do we stop and breath? How do we remember that preparation is part of the expectation that comes with awaiting the birth of the Christ child? And the bigger question, how do we find renewal when the stress of the moment or the day may cause us to unravel? I have been pondering these questions and have realized anew that Christmas is for children. Not, I hasten to add, because we want to spoil them and overwhelm them with gifts but because of what they give to us as adults.
I will give you examples. I have a very special gig every Tuesday and Thursday morning. I have to spend 20 to 30 minutes cuddling and admiring my little Canadian-born Syrian “grandson” while his mom walks his big sister to day care. Oh sure, she could bundle him up and take him too but they live steps away from the church so I run over and ‘babysit’ while mom and daughter have a few minutes together as they walk and talk their way to the school. I get to sit and gaze at a wee one who looks with wondering eyes and rewards my antics and tickling with smiles and gurgles and coos. He is adorable and watching him grow and change week by week has made my heart glad. That is one example. The other is the benefit gained from talking to dozens of children over the course of the day last Saturday. I took a shift as Mrs. Claus at Santa’s cabin on Knox’s Pumpkin Farm. It is an activity they offer families through the month of December. You book your time to ride the horse-drawn wagon through the pasture to Santa’s log cabin where you will find the jolly old man and his wife. ‘Elfie’ will serve you hot chocolate and a cookie while you wait your turn to talk to Santa about your Christmas hopes and dreams. It was magical to see the excitement and awe that the children had as they entered the cabin and talked to Santa about their secrets. Some admitted to being a bit naughty. Some giggled and squirmed. A few cried. For me, it was a time to celebrate the gift of imagination and mystery and to see families interact and enjoy one another.
Christmas is a holy time. Holy because it takes us to the basic belief that God is born into our lives in surprising ways. Holy because it calls on the mystery and wonder of angels and stars. Holy because it reminds us that to all people, humble struggling refugees, workers in the fields, wise and scholarly star-gazers, God appears in surprising ways. To all of them a baby restores, a child leads, a little one draws them to the source of love and hope and peace and joy. That is how we get restored.
