Despite all the efforts to combat it, Christmas is here. What was once a celebration of Christ’s birth has become artfully hijacked. In some ways it’s been converted into a time of commercialism. In others it’s become simply a time of tradition; family, food, fun. I’m not saying the exchange of gifts is bad and, quite frankly, this world needs more tradition and family time. Whether good or bad, these things are a distraction from the true meaning of Christmas.
One thing I first realized when I became a Christian is that there’s way more to the Christmas story than I’d ever known. Jesus didn’t suddenly spring up and change the way God dealt with man forever; his birth was foretold. Around the time of his conception, you didn’t have to explain to an Israelite who the Messiah was. He was foretold by the prophets. His lineage was known and predicted, as well as his birthplace of Bethlehem. They were literally waiting for him to arrive.
Another thing I realized is that we Gentiles are not God’s chosen people; Israel is. We, however, through the faith in Jesus that his nation didn’t have, are grafted in. In both the old and new testaments, Jesus is referred to as a light to the Gentiles. As Paul points out in Romans, the grace God shows the Gentiles is intended to provoke Israel to jealousy. He made a covenant with them that he will not break, and his wish is that they’d come around.
The Christmas story as told in Luke is simply beautiful. I love to try to picture that starry night (because I’m a starry night kind of guy) and the magnitude of the events that unfolded around Jesus’ birth. People were waiting for his birth. This night was prophecy fulfilled, the opportunity for God’s chosen people to be redeemed. Later on, because he wasn’t the type of Messiah they wanted, they rejected him. When Stephen was stoned in Acts chapter 7, he saw Jesus standing at the right hand of God. He was ready to redeem his people, but again they rejected him and killed the messenger, Stephen. Thus we are now in the church age, the time of the Gentiles.
Christmas 2006 has been such a mix of feelings for our household. First off is our little Christmas present, the handome little PJ who was born last week. On the down side, we’re experiencing another brown Christmas. Once the snow comes to stay each year, I load the Minidisc of “A Charlie Brown Christmas” in my truck and don’t take it out till Spring. This year the snow left. It’s really hard to get in the spirit of driving around with Stacy, looking at lights, and listening to Vince Gauraldi when the roads and lawns are barren. It takes the spirit right out of it.
One other down side every Christmas is that my dad disowned me when he found out I wasn’t going to a Catholic church any more. He hasn’t spoken to me since, and it’s been two or three years now. I don’t remember the exact time it started. He didn’t attend my wedding, didn’t visit us in the hospital when our boy was born, and his only response to the news that he’s got a grandson was to hand the phone to my mom. If I come to the house, he leaves the room until I have left. I can’t really get too upset by dwelling on it, because it’s his decision. The man that told me all through my youth that it’s important not to ever leave a loved one on bad terms, because there’s no telling if something might take them from you, has thrown his own advice out the window. Hopefully little PJ will help soften his heart, along with our prayers.
There were little victories, too…Christmas displays were allowed to stand in Chicago and Seattle. Store employees wished “Merry Christmas” except for certain stores (which I boycotted). The Northern Lights showed off their colors just two weeks before Christmas. Friends and family have come back to Bismarck-Mandan to visit, and there’s plenty of time to reminisce. My friend Reed and the rest of his aviation unit are home from Bosnia in time for the holidays. Today, Christmas Eve, marks the 9th anniversary of the day I brought Scooter home from The Birdhouse, tucked in a little pet carrier box which I stuffed in my coat to keep him warm. He’s sitting on my shoulder right now, feathers fluffed, and leaning against my earlobe. He’s spent many years there while I stare at the computer screen, and sometimes I feel I should split some of my freelance money with him.
Aside from PJ and Scooter, the most treasured memory I will retain from Christmas 2006 was the time spent caroling at one of Bismarck’s nursing homes this year. As we walked the halls singing, many residents would stand in their doorways and sing along. I could barely continue through the tears when I’d see a little old lady standing at the entrance to her room, singing the fourth verse of Joy to the World (or any of our other Christmas hymns) by heart. These days most people, myself included, don’t even know how many verses the popular Christmas hymns have, and certainly don’t know the words to those verses. I was touched beyond description. If you ever have the opportunity to go caroling for these folks, don’t let it pass you by. It will leave you a changed person.
Having the baby a little ahead of our expectations has kinda cramped my style of last-minute shopping. I tend to go to Kirkwood mall once a year (not counting Scheel’s), mostly because I don’t care for having to shield my eyes from the way the girls are dressed down there. This time I cranked up my iPod, put my head down, and finished my shopping all in one day. I managed to get almost all the Snoopy keepsake ornaments from Hallmark, too. Among the random songs came a couple of Christmas songs by gospel singer Robert Robinson, whose voice will send shivers up your spine. If you saw a guy with watery eyes wearing a motorcycle jacket and an iPod, that was me.
Two events that always signal the Christmas week are: James Bond marathons and the 24-hour “Christmas Story” marathon on TBS. I own the DVD of “Christmas Story” after being introduced to the movie in 2003. How I went 20 years without discovering this masterpiece (and Christmas staple) is beyond me…but that has been rectified. And I still watch it on satellite, despite the fact that the DVD sits ready and waiting. What can I say, it’s tradition. We also watched the usual Frosty the Snowman and other Rankin-Bass features, because they’re tradition too. I’m not going to teach my kids that there’s a Santa Claus, but I do find the TV specials entertaining.
Because our plans got put back a little bit, we’re likely to spend Christmas Day opening gifts and that sort of thing. My brother made it back for the weekend, so we’ll see him briefly. It seems like all our loved ones in town are sick or have sick kids, so we’re staying home to isolate our little boy from any unwanted germs. After all, he still won’t be a week old on Christmas day. It’ll just be the four of us, counting Scooter, and it’s the stuff memories are made of. I hope your Christmas is as memorable as mine. If you’ve got anything you’d like to share about your Christmas, please enter it as a comment. Merry Christmas!
Fred Flintstone was there. Those arm tats must have been applied after the show was cancelled – they don’t look like Hanna-Barbera work.
What could be….well, cooler than a motorized cooler? Obviously one with nitrous, but that’s probably still on the drawing board.
First of the ninth, seventh pocketbike cav. First on the ground and keeping the throttle pinned wide open.
Next year, they’re going to bring the BIG one.
Amen.
“Seriously, kid…I once caught a Gundar this tall…”
For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all. -James 2:10
