Do you remember what it felt like? You wake up and check the clock. Shoot! Way too early. Mom and Dad will definitely be unhappy if we do this now. What time is late enough? Seven? Yeah, seven sounds good. You can wait until then. 6:45... so close… 6:55… that’s practically 7. Let’s do this. You proceed room to room to wake up your brothers and sisters. Slowly you creep down the stairs trying not to wake Mom and Dad. Now is the time, the moment of truth. What the night before had been a living room is this morning the site of a miracle. It is a wonderland of joy where the impossible is possible and dreams come true. The tree gleams through half-open eyes casting a majestic glow and for a moment obscuring the true objects of your anticipation. There they are: gifts under the tree and stockings full of candy and treats. Alleluia! Do you remember what it felt like? I do. I can feel it now as I write this, that anticipation of something to come. The belief in something amazing. I knew that the moment I turned the corner from the stairs into the living room I would be greeted by the miraculous. I grew up believing in Santa Claus, but even if you didn’t there is still something magical about Christmas morning that has no equal. It is more than presents and candy. It is the wonder. It is the idea that the gifts are a miracle from Christmas itself. They appeared there in order to be found by us children. There is an innocent hope to Christmas morning. It is this innocence, the wonder and awe, the hope and the trust, that I remember today but cannot replicate. There is no return to the Christmas mornings of our childhood. Yet, there is a lesson to be remembered. We must believe that the wonderful promises of Christmas are true. Much more wonderful than presents under a tree is the baby in a manger. More mind bending than Santa Claus in a flying sleigh is God in human form. We believed without question that Christmas was magical and can do magical things. Now we’ve grown up and don’t believe in magic, but we’ve thrown out wonder and mystery along with it. We act as though Christ being born to a virgin and as a helpless baby in a feeding trough is the most normal thing we’ve ever heard. We act as though God becoming one of us is as commonplace as Tuesdays. You might wonder what I am talking about. After all we spend months preparing for and celebrating Christmas. We’re positively obsessed with it! Yes, we’re obsessed with celebrating Christmas, but more and more the celebrations themselves serve to distract us from thinking about what we’re actually remembering. The parties and decorations are so much noise to hide the whisper we could hear as kids. The invitation to believe in something unbelievable. It is so tempting to go on the defensive with our faith and allow it to be shrouded in vast apologies that promote the rational naturalistic aspects over the mystical and grace-filled. We're so afraid of being called foolish that we ignore the problematic incarnation and focus instead on those things we can explain like spending time with family and giving each other gifts. Christmas becomes a more grand Thanksgiving where we celebrate a very important man’s birthday and sing songs about warmth and cheer. Unfortunately, Christmas demands so much more than saccharine songs and saccharine sweets. It demands belief. This belief that was so simple as children is the hardest to retain as an adult because it necessarily requires us to let some things be left to God alone. Some things are not to be perfectly grasped. Some things cannot be wrapped with a neat bow. Our society tries so hard to capture the mystery of Christ and present it to us in its sterile form (when it doesn’t simply ignore it outright). We must fight against this. We must tear open the neat wrapping not because we expect to understand what is inside, but because know that the neatness is a facade meant to make Christmas palatable to our modern sensibilities. We must remember what it felt like to be a child on Christmas morning. Do not be distracted by the lights. Look for what is truly there. Remember that at the heart of Christmas is a miracle that should mystify us. It should bring us to our knees. Next Christmas, do not be afraid to approach Christ with the innocent heart of a child. What you find will be more wonderful than any Christmas morning you can remember. Wait for the Lord. Take courage; be stouthearted. Wait for the Lord.
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October 2020
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