Merry Christmas! May your day be full of blessings, including the odd ones that may not surface until you quiet down later.
Deb and I are celebrating this day alone this year for the first time in about 35 years, the last being our first Christmas together in Indiana when we were low on the work seniority totem pole and family came to us on the weekends before and after. Up at 8:30 following a midnight return from a service at Central Lutheran downtown. I needed an elegant service.
Earlier Christmas Eve we gathered with our oldest at their church for a family service which was also wonderful with prelude piano by a young worshipper and a lovely video of young kids acting out the Christmas story with the kind of freshness that Jesus also found delightful (cf Lk 18: 15-17). I kind of miss those awkward Christmas pagents put on by hordes of young actors-the ones where a constantly runny nose or a kid holding his privates exclaims to his mortified mother, "Mom, I have to go to the bathroom!" The ones where a completely new rendition of the ancient words gives one pause as God's Spirit barges into your adult constraint to renew the punch of the first announcement. "Unless you accept God's kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you'll never get in." was Jesus' exclamation to those who were too adult for their own good. It is good to be knocked on your can as you go through the season, for there we can join the astonished shepherds, the diligent scientist/astronomers, the marveling parents and the incomprehensible arrival of God in our form. This is a mystery that transcends all mystery.
After this lovely service we gathered back at our home with our eldest, Deb's parents and our very good neighborhood friends and their youngest son for a meal and good fun. The table talk was the highlight for me as we both recounted our history with one another and added to the history with this new chapter. There were parts of the night several of us missed when our Granddaughter Fion, pulled our hands to join her in play in the family room. With me she wished to watch a video, then have me turn on the electonic piano attached to the computer to play the ABC song. Then she wanted me to chase her and tickle her, and I wanted her to do the same to me. Her words are becoming more clear, which helps her Papa T understand what her will is in the moment. How like the Jesus baby-knowing what is going on in his creation and stuck with the language of a baby. The ancient mystery repeated in another 'verse' with Fiona. I cherish watching these little ones grasp their world. Their innocence brings insights that congealed experience hides from us.
Compare that with those thoughts one's adult children occasionally express which focus on your 'oldness'. As the elder you are reminded again in this not-so-innocent child's comments that experience is an ever-growing storehouse if one is looking for meaning and beyond the treadmill existence we often settle for in life. As you gather you may find yourself the butt of some jokes, but what do those 'punks' know? Well, their thoughts do remind us that we are on a timeline that comes to an end. Useful, even if alarming. And we are reminded of our own conceit toward our parents' lives, whether to hold them up as infallible or to lament their comfort with what is not modern. At my age I know I am both flesh and bone, subject to wear and tear and the stresses that my 'ancient-ness' adds to my mind, body and spirit as I slog along to sanctify my flesh.
(On Christmas Day 2012 the local paper had an article titled 'A Gift' by Kevin Kling (http://www.startribune.com/audio/184337741.html ) which wonderfully spoke to this melange of freshness and experience you may be facing today as you gather with family. Check it out.)
Later last night we attended a 10:30 service at a liturgical church, a slight bit outside our norm, but just what I needed. The cavernous space provoked worship as it bathed us in the warm sound of harp, bell, organ and voice. A baby cried softly behind us; three dressed-to-impress but bored teenagers clicked their tongues behind us. I was distracted by my disdain at their behavior in such a grand environment. And then I heard the ancient words, "unto you a child is born" as the pastor spoke of those in this audience that may not want to be here, distracted by presents, health concerns, the excesses of the season, world issues and on an on. Caught in his insight, I recognized that I was there to worship and not a hostage to the distractions from others. It was a reminder of that first night in Bethlehem when so many were oblivious to the event, and those who were aware were few and scattered about.
Deb's dad was asked about the age of our Christmas Cactus earlier Christmas Eve, the cactus we inherited from them when they moved to Minneapolis some years ago. A start from the original plant was blooming in our living room. The original plant was known to my father-in-law's father as far back as 1907 when his father remembers it in his family home in Britt, IA. An ancient plant of at least 105 years in 2012, now restarted as plants for our own children also evoke the extent of time. Today the plant blooms not as ancient and worn out protoplasm but as fresh as the day it entered our great, great great grandparents' life. Another sign that something old is still vital.
Will you be renewed this season by the history of your life? Will you find truth in the new expression of the old present about you? Will you find peace in a runny nose and a child's cry? Will you find joy in the surprising insight of a little child? Can you be a little child today? Jesus is fond of the little children. Don't be too mature to miss out on your life, as God planned it. Look for the surprise in this season for you, my friend. Embrace it with the eyes of a child.
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