So... As promised, here's the reflection I read at the ACE Fellowship mass last night.
Peace,
~L
Christmas ReflectionThe Holiday season means many things to many different people. In fact, it can mean many things to each person. For example, the doctor in me knows that the Holidays are notoriously bad for health. Highest rate of heart attacks falls between Thanksgiving and New Years, highest depression and suicide rates in December, homelessness, burns and house fires, theft, vandalism, and don't get me started on the alcohol. The Minnesotan in me knows that December means about seven hours of day light, subzero temperatures, and shoveling a half foot of snow every other day. The days are getting shorter, darker, colder, and the weather here... well, it can be abysmal. So, in this winter of more than just season, we surround ourselves with the warmth, family, spirit, and celebration of Christmas and the New Year... And HOW!
Everyone has their own holiday traditions, borne of their family, friends, peers, country, and church. But inevitably, they involve gifts, food, decorations, celebrations, and a spirit of joy. So, for the sake of the little kid in us, I just want to imagine fulfilling these traditions.
Shopping for presents. At home, the day after Thanksgiving is THE day to do about 50% of the Christmas shopping. Packs of humanity swarming around sales that pop up and change hourly at the retailers. I need to pick up a gift for my brother, and his new wife. My roommate, my boyfriend, my best friend, my little brother, my mom, my cousin that was married last year... oh wait, they've a new baby too, what the heck am I going to get for my dad? He says he doesn't need anything... hm... And there's the office secret santa/white elephant party, and do I have to get something for my boyfriend's little sister? I think that's everyone. No wait, I forgot my aunt is coming to dinner next week. Speaking of dinner...
Make a huge meal. At least one huge family meal. It might be on Christmas Eve, or Christmas day, or even the eve of Christmas Eve or St. Stephen's/Boxing day, whatever is your tradition. But you need the huge family meal. And probably about three separate dinner parties, or office parties, or festivus for the rest of us, all events requiring you to prepare soups, hors d'oeuvres of Christmas theme, Ham, Goose, Turkey, minced pies, mulled wines, fruitcake? Christmas crackers, candy canes, chestnuts roasting on an open fire, egg nog, yule logs, and of course trays and trays of cookies. And as your home is filling with the scent of freshly baked cookies...
Decorate your house. I want a tree, preferably recently living, with tinsel and lights, ornaments, garlands, and a star on top, or an angel or a Santa, whatever floats your boat. I want stockings hanging from the mantle, I want a wreath on the door, I want candles, I want fairy lights, I want mistletoe, I want snow flakes, I want reindeer, jolly weird garden gnomes, and there darn well better be a manger scene in the bay window. Don't forget to decorate the outside of the house too. And with all that done, bundle up against the winter chill, grab about ten of your mates and head outside...
Go Christmas carolling. Wander up and down your street in a gang of wolly scarved merrymakers, armed against the jack frost's nip with a thermos of hot chocolate (perhaps with its own special bite) and mittens, use the big brass knockers, ring the ding-dong merrily on high doorbells, and sing to whom ever will listen. Tell them about the little drummer boy away in the manger in royal David's city where, Hark, I hear an angel singing. And the glowing reindeer dreaming of white tannenbaums and talking snowmen decking halls with figgy pudding. Do they know it's Christmas time at all? Jingle some silver bells there, Wencelesslas, dash through the snow, and have yourself a merry little Christmas. And when your cheeks are rosy and your fingers have lost sufficient circulation, you head back inside, 'cause baby, it's cold outside. May now it's time to think about those who don't have some place warm to thaw tonight.
And this is the month when more people donate to charity than any other time of year. We bring in our food to stock the shelves of local kitchens, drop our spare change into the red bucket for the salvation army, sure the poor fellow stuck outside ringing that bell looks cold enough for the both of you. Purge closets of big puffy sweaters that may be a little out of fashion but sure are warm and could well serve someone else that needs them. We give to locks of love, and toys for tots, coats for kids, St. Vincent de Paul, unicef, Focus, Oxfam, Bothar, and Simon. We give and give and give and to do our duty properly, we give until it hurts. We give of our money, our time, our hearts, and in this season charities have to turn away volunteers. So we slip in the good deeds where they're hard to notice, like buying charity Christmas cards.
Speaking of cards, I want you to write cute, clever, and touching cards to anyone you've ever known, but be sure to make them personal because at the end of the day, they all know each other and they'll be comparing notes. Also, I hope you've updated your address book so that you can mail those letters... Lord only knows where your next-door neighbour who used to share your tree-house has moved in the past 15 years. Also, you'll need boxes to ship the wrapped presents for friends and family that don't live next door. This season keeps the post office in business.
And then... somewhere in all of that chaos... We are supposed to carve out time to worship, time to give thanks, time to wait in wonder and awe for the birth of the Lord. It feels like running around, juggling snowballs, while holding your breath... and a partridge in a pear tree.
Now think about doing all of that in the middle of August. Or on July 15th (hey, that's my birthday, I hear Hobbits give everyone else presents on their birthday). Or what about May 7th. In that context, it sounds almost ridiculous. How far we stretch ourselves this time of year. How much we give and we fit into the short days. How willing we are to say yes to friends, to family, to food, to parties, to wrapping paper and ribbons, to cards, to caols, to cooking, to wanting and to giving. And how obliged we feel to attend mass for Advent.
Advent is a time of waiting. A time of anticipation. A time of expectation, excitement, and hope. A time to take stock of what we have to be thankful for as we count down the days until our Lord is born. When he brings this light and joy into the dark days of winter. There's a fresh, clean (and somewhat full ) feeling that comes with this time. And I suppose my small bit of advice is to hold onto the sense of wonder, the sense of joy, the attitude of giving. Carry it with you. Bring it into the new year, into the spring. Anticipate the beauty of all times of the year. Expect joyful surprises. Be excited to give of yourself. And at the advent of a fresh canonical calendar, allocate, dedicate, spare a moment or two for some quiet reflection, for peace, for prayer, and for God.
