First Sunday after Christmas

December 29, 2002

The Chapel of Our Saviour

Colorado Springs, CO

The Rev. Michael Richardson

Isaiah 61:10 - 62:3

Galatians 3:23-25; 4:4-7

John 1:1-18

Psalm 147
"What happened to the excitement I used to feel around the holidays?" asked an essayist last Sunday in a radio broadcast. She was bemoaning the loss of Christmas Past where she was a little girl at sumptuous parties put on by her mother. All the decorations, the beautiful dresses that the women wore, the grand foods that were prepared ahead of time; all of those things and more were the sights and sounds and smells of those Christmas parties of her childhood.

She went on to imply that life must be so much more difficult for her than it was for her parents because she simply cannot recreate the degree of joy that she experienced as a child. She said this as if she is supposed to be able to recreate the feelings of joy and wonder that she experienced as a child, but somehow knows that it is too much to ask. I make a note of that because I do believe that we can feel the joy we felt as children, if we are paying attention in the way that children pay attention.

The essayist said that she has to work hard for everything she gets, unlike when she was a child, I assume, and everything was simply put in front of her to partake or not. She noted that she even has to work hard at celebration. Poor little deprived person. Do you feel sorry for her yet?

I do. I feel sorry for anyone that grew up in a family full of such joy but who could not grasp where the joy came from or how to bring it about again.

This essay about the sorrows of having to live a life of luxury and go to all the right parties and wear the right shoes so that one could at least pretend to live a life of joy brought sadness to me in this season of Christmas. All that the author could think about was herself. In the end she hoped that she could host a party where people would feel safe. Spending time with friends who make her feel safe, though not mentioned in any Christmas carols she could remember, was simply the best that life could offer.

Perhaps you see why I feel sorry for her. She is not a bad person. There is nothing wrong with loving chocolate (in fact that might be the smartest thing in the essay), enjoying a fine martini or getting a thrill out of a new pair of Italian shoes that are "too cool", but those are not the essential things in life and they will not bring true happiness or joy - even the chocolate.

What this woman missed in her sumptuous family parties was the reason for the parties. She assumes, I think, that the parties are for the sake of parties. We must have Christmas parties because that is what we do in our culture and therefore we must enjoy them as best we can.

I want to wonder if perhaps she enjoyed the parties as a child because she was meant to enjoy the parties. They were gifts to all the people who came to them, gifts given by the hostess so that others might revel in the joy of the moment and share the wonder and joy that is life. I want to wonder if the parties were just as much work for her mother as they are for her, the difference being, perhaps, that her mother did the work knowing that she was giving of herself to her friends and family. She did this because she wanted to give of herself, not because she felt like she "had" to have a Christmas party or it would ruin the social season.

I don't know this essayist, and so I don't have any right to assume all that I have about her situation, but I do know that she has missed the point of the story of the birth of Jesus, and thus the point of giving and going to Christmas parties. She can take comfort in the fact that she is probably not alone this Christmas in her lack of joy over the season. I'm told that many people are, as she describes, "bored with what passes for fun."

So what is the point of giving and going to Christmas parties? What is the point of all the celebration we have around this festival that marks the birth of Jesus? It's simply this; we have been given the greatest gift anyone could be given, adoption as the heirs of God's estate, and the celebration is about being partakers of the act of giving. There is no clearer sign for us than the sign of freely bestowing the gift of Baptism on Tyler today. Today this little child is recognized as an heir to God's kingdom along with all of us.

"The Word became flesh and dwelt among us" is not just a pretty set of theological platitudes but a view of reality that disarms all of the normal views of reality that say we have to be strong and competitive and better than the other guy or gal. The worldly view of life is often that we have to get everything we can get before someone else beats us to it or we'll be left behind. Christ's view of life is that we have to give everything that we can give or we'll be left behind and love will shrivel and die in us.

God became one of us, took on human flesh, human blood, human pain, human tears, human laughter and even human death so that we might know that we have been given - given freely out of God's love not out of anything we've done to deserve it - we have been given the gift of eternal life with the creator and sustainer of all life.

This life is wonderful! For all its pains and troubles, it's simply the best thing we can imagine experiencing and God has promised us that just as this life was a free gift to us, so too is eternal life a free gift to us. The only difference in these gifts, as far as I can tell, is that none of us had any choice about this life, we were simply given life whether we wanted it or not. The difference comes in our choice of being in the next life in the midst of God's love, or opting out, saying "No Thanks" to the only gift greater than the gift of this life.

God doesn't give to us out of a sense of needing to give, but out of love's desire to give itself to others and work toward what is best for them. The gift we remember at Christmas is the same gift we experience on Good Friday, the total and complete giving of God to creation, that creation might recognize true love and give it back. The only things we can do with love are to accept it joyfully and then return it or give it away to others. Love only grows when it is given away, it doesn't shrink. God showed us that when he gave his life for us. In giving his life for us he was making a life that was greater than any we had yet experienced. But part of the greatness of this new life is that we get to choose it, or not.

Life is a gift. Many times gifts are valued for their sentiment or for what they can help us to do. Buy a car, get an education, feed our families; these might be practical gifts that help us with the challenge of living in this world and they help us to do things we want to do. A bathrobe made by Mom, a sweater knitted by a loving friend, a picture painted by a two year old or a treasure box made by a four year old, these are some of the gifts that are valued for their remembering people that are dear to us. They are all wonderful and we are blessed with every gift that we receive because all gifts are a piece of the one doing the giving, and are special because we can each give only from ourselves, not from others.

God can only give from himself, not from you or me or anyone else. And so we celebrate the greatest gift that has ever been given at Christmas, the human life of Jesus that showed us what true giving and true love really means.

So go to the parties and throw the parties and give gifts, because God has given us a gift of love that will shrivel and die if it is not continually given away again and again. That is the reason for Christmas parties. That is the reason for extravagant lights and decorated trees with balls of finest glass. That is the reason for little children waiting in breathless expectation for the coming of a Saint who brings gifts of love and care to all children. And that is the reason that, no matter how many years we have lived, we can experience the joy as a child, because we have known true love, have shared in that love and are now blessed by being able to be a giver of love that comes from the heart and desires only the very best for those around us. It is in giving that we receive, as St. Francis reminds us.

I'll leave you with a story of a Rabbi. Joan Chittister told this in her book There Is a Season.

An old Hasidic Rabbi used to disappear into the woods near his village every Sabbath eve to "commune with God in the forest." At least that is what his village congregation believed. He was a holy and respected man, but the villagers wanted to know what happened to him when he went to the forest every Sabbath so they finally convinced one of the cantors to follow him to the forest one Sabbath eve and watch what happened to him.

The cantor followed as the Rabbi went deeper and deeper into the woods. He came to a dark part of the forest where there was a little cabin. In the cabin lived a frail old Gentile woman who was very sick and unable to care for her tiny house and needs. He spent the evening chopping wood, cooking, cleaning and taking care of this little old Gentile woman and when he was completely finished he rushed back from the forest to his home.

When the cantor returned the villagers wanted to know what he had seen. Did he follow the Rabbi all the way into the woods? Yes, yes, he did. Did he see what happened to the Rabbi? Yes, yes, he did. Was the Rabbi taken up into heaven as they had all suspected?

"Oh no," the cantor answered after a thoughtful pause. "Our Rabbi went much higher than that."
May the gifts you give lift you with joy to the highest heaven. +