I read an article in the newspaper a few weeks ago about a cat that was arrested in Brazil for carrying contraband into a prison. The feline felon had a cell phone, drills, an earphone, a memory card, batteries and a phone charger taped to its body. It was obviously an accomplice in a plot to escape the prison confines in some way, if only to do business beyond its walls. I guess that the plan was for no one to notice the cat straying onto prison grounds. When it was in the exercise yard someone would relieve it of its loot and benefit from the means of outside contact it provided. I don’t know if the cat got anything from the transaction. Treats? Catnip? Extra scratches under the chin? Maybe the cat was an innocent victim, forced to be a beast of burden to provide some human the means for a sinister enterprise. However, knowing cats as I do, I doubt this hypothesis. “Innocent” is not a natural description for this species. The cat had something up its paw, even if the angle wasn’t clearly evident. It’s in the genes.
Now we may not use our pets to smuggle contraband into a prison, but we do sometimes use them and others for our own, self-serving purposes. Did you ever dress up your dog or cat for Halloween, Christmas or July Fourth? Did they like it? So why do we do such things? We think it’s cute or funny. They want free of the costume. We want to show them off. They want to run away and be free of the encumbrances. We want pictures to show our friends. They want the peace and quiet of a nap. We use our pets for our own purposes, and they reluctantly cooperate. After all, we are their meal ticket.
While all of this may be harmless and frivolous fun, it does point out something in ourselves that can easily erase the humor. We like to make each other over for our own purposes. We believe that we know what the other person needs to look better, be happier, make a success of him or her self. We are quick and easy with advice for others. We may even con another into doing what we want by making them think it was his or her idea. Some of us are masters at manipulation, or at least we try to be. We use others for our purposes, and sometimes it’s easy because they want to be used to avoid taking responsibility for their own lives. In the end, no one is the better for the experience. Rather, both parties in such a relationship get stuck into patterns that keep them from maturing and being the best they can be. They need each other, one to control and manipulate, the other to be controlled and dependent. No one knows the freedom God gave us in this kind of arrangement.
God respects us for who we truly are, God’s children. He doesn’t try to make us over into something we aren’t. He wants us to be ourselves, but our true selves, our best selves. That takes practice. We don’t become good, truthful, loving, caring and always growing and improving in the virtues by taking a pill or being told what to do or having someone do it for us. We have to work at what we want to become. If we want to be honest and truthful, deal straight with others and tell the truth. If we want to be generous, start by giving something away. If we want to be learned, study. If we want to be loving and caring, do something kind for another. Get it? We have to practice and practice and practice acts of virtue to become virtuous. When practices become a habit, then they get inside us and come from there. Our spirits and our actions unite, and we don’t have to think about doing the right thing and deciding in its favor. We just do it because it’s who we are, it’s what we have become through practice, a practice we chose to follow. No attachments or costumes are needed here.
The closest Baxter gets to a costume is the Notre Dame collar I put around his neck. I don’t think he is a true fan. He simply humors me by wearing it. I have never tried to attach anything to his body. He would have it off before I left the room. Baxter is his own cat, and I admire him for that. When we become our own persons, we won’t be perfect. We will have to ask for forgiveness at times and correct our mistakes. But I believe God will respect us for our attempts at genuine virtue, and help us grow over time in His grace. Finally, isn’t that what matters most?
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Thursday, January 10, 2013
HOW WET ARE YOU WILLING TO GET?
Baxter prefers to drink from the spigot in the bathtub. If I am not around to turn it on, he gives into a drinking session at the water bowl, but as soon as I return home, he jumps into the bathtub and looks at me. When he catches my eye, he lets out a scream, “Give me a drink!”, and he is persistent. He will sit there for a half hour waiting for me to crack the knob on the cold water to start a small trickle on water flowing. The tub is Baxter’s pub, the place he gets refreshment, some human interaction (with me), and where his idiosyncrasies are accepted and indulged. Like the old TV program, “Cheers”, the tub is the place where he goes and feels at home.
But I use the tub as well, not as my watering hole, but as my shower. Some mornings Baxter and I have a little tiff over whose turn it is to use the tub. He wants a drink, but I need to take a shower. I try to accommodate him for a while, but after the third or fourth repetition of jumping into the tub, staring, crying and turning on the water to a trickle for his laps from the puddle beneath the spout, I have had it. But I have learned the secret to get Baxter to make a quick exit. Blast the water. Turn the spigot full, and watch him jump and run for cover. He doesn’t want a shower, only a drink. He will tolerate a wet head to get to the puddle at the bottom of the tiny water stream, but a complete shower is out of the question. Baxter will tip-toe in the water, but he will never dive into it. He is too much of the fussy feline to get all wet.
In some ways we are the same. Not that we avoid a physical bath, I hope, but we do often avoid immersing ourselves in the waters of spiritual cleansing. We tip-toe in our baptismal commitments, rather than plunge our lives into the mysteries of our faith. We take Christ on our terms—Sunday Mass, confession once in a while, participate in friends’ and relatives’ baptisms, weddings and funerals, maybe volunteer for some ministry (as long as it causes me no inconvenience). We drink at the fountain of life, but we won’t allow it to mess up our appearance, our schedule, or our desires. We want what we want, when we want it, in the way we want it. We don’t think about what God wants for us.
He wants all of us; everything we are and do. There are no half-way baptismal commitments. Our baptism calls us to hold nothing back from God’s influence and reshaping. Baptism is a bath of grace that is meant to soak us and soak into us, so that the mystery of death and resurrection can cleanse us of all bitterness, dishonesty, pettiness, selfishness and hostility towards others. We can’t jump in and out of the baptismal font. We are marked by this bath for the rest of our lives, whether or not we want to be. We are children of God and heirs to God’s Kingdom. The only question before us after baptism is will we be loving children and worthy heirs. There are no part-time jobs for Christ’s disciples. We are called to live the life of faith twenty-four, seven, in every situation, with whomever we find ourselves. The life of the baptized is meant to drip with grace, no matter how miserable we may feel or how unsightly in the world’s eyes we may appear. It isn’t the temporary drench that matters, but the permanent cleansing that counts.
Baxter doesn’t like a full bath. He wants only a little splash on the head to get a drink. We have been bathed in the waters of our baptism in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Don’t be afraid of getting wet this way. It will save you.
But I use the tub as well, not as my watering hole, but as my shower. Some mornings Baxter and I have a little tiff over whose turn it is to use the tub. He wants a drink, but I need to take a shower. I try to accommodate him for a while, but after the third or fourth repetition of jumping into the tub, staring, crying and turning on the water to a trickle for his laps from the puddle beneath the spout, I have had it. But I have learned the secret to get Baxter to make a quick exit. Blast the water. Turn the spigot full, and watch him jump and run for cover. He doesn’t want a shower, only a drink. He will tolerate a wet head to get to the puddle at the bottom of the tiny water stream, but a complete shower is out of the question. Baxter will tip-toe in the water, but he will never dive into it. He is too much of the fussy feline to get all wet.
In some ways we are the same. Not that we avoid a physical bath, I hope, but we do often avoid immersing ourselves in the waters of spiritual cleansing. We tip-toe in our baptismal commitments, rather than plunge our lives into the mysteries of our faith. We take Christ on our terms—Sunday Mass, confession once in a while, participate in friends’ and relatives’ baptisms, weddings and funerals, maybe volunteer for some ministry (as long as it causes me no inconvenience). We drink at the fountain of life, but we won’t allow it to mess up our appearance, our schedule, or our desires. We want what we want, when we want it, in the way we want it. We don’t think about what God wants for us.
He wants all of us; everything we are and do. There are no half-way baptismal commitments. Our baptism calls us to hold nothing back from God’s influence and reshaping. Baptism is a bath of grace that is meant to soak us and soak into us, so that the mystery of death and resurrection can cleanse us of all bitterness, dishonesty, pettiness, selfishness and hostility towards others. We can’t jump in and out of the baptismal font. We are marked by this bath for the rest of our lives, whether or not we want to be. We are children of God and heirs to God’s Kingdom. The only question before us after baptism is will we be loving children and worthy heirs. There are no part-time jobs for Christ’s disciples. We are called to live the life of faith twenty-four, seven, in every situation, with whomever we find ourselves. The life of the baptized is meant to drip with grace, no matter how miserable we may feel or how unsightly in the world’s eyes we may appear. It isn’t the temporary drench that matters, but the permanent cleansing that counts.
Baxter doesn’t like a full bath. He wants only a little splash on the head to get a drink. We have been bathed in the waters of our baptism in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Don’t be afraid of getting wet this way. It will save you.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
A CHRISTMAS MESSAGE: Welcome the Stranger
Baxter doesn’t have problems with visitors. When someone comes into the rectory for whatever reason, Baxter comes out to greet him or her. He sniffs around a little, rubs against them if he can, and then looks longingly, hoping they are a source for another meal or at least an added treat for the day. He is very different than my previous cat. She would make a bee-line for the basement as soon as someone stepped beyond the threshold. She was a one person cat, and everyone else was regarded as a threat to be avoided. I think she had a bad experience with a stranger before I took her in, and she couldn’t get over it, even though she was safe and protected in my care. Baxter has been sheltered from such threats, and so he thinks everyone who comes his way wants to make him happy, which in his world means, FEED ME!
The Epiphany, especially in the Western tradition of our church, is about Jesus meeting some strangers in the story of the Magi. These characters were not part of the household of God as it was drawn in the Jewish tradition. They were gentiles—people from far lands with strange dress, customs and different religions. They probably spoke a different language and ate different foods and dressed differently. They started out on a dangerous journey without a set destination. They didn’t fit with the people of first century Israel, but they ended up there because that is where their quest led them. They saw a new star, an omen of something new and promising arising for them and they followed it. They ended up at the place of the Christ Child offering what they had as gifts to honor Him.
With the tragic events in the news the last few weeks, we are perhaps even more suspicious of strangers than we tend to be in the normal course of things. What are they concealing? Why don’t they act, talk, look and live a life style like ours? Is their strangeness a sign of their unstable and sinister character? How do we rid ourselves of these strangers who threaten our peace and security?
The Epiphany story warns us to be careful in answering these questions and the suspicions they raise. Don’t come to easy and quick conclusions. Be alert, but don’t reject people who are different just because they are different. Be fair to the stranger. Treat him or her by the same rules that we use to keep order and safety among us all. Most of the destructive persons who have brought heartache and death in the recent tragedies were part of our neighborhoods, went to our schools, played with our children, worked in our communities. They were not strangers, but loners, without hope for a new and promising future, driven to make their mark and gain notoriety by taking life rather than giving it.
Maybe that is our first clue on how to create a secure environment for ourselves. We need to protect, uphold, enhance and contribute to each other’s life from the womb to the tomb. Rather than push another's life aside to get ahead, eliminate it for our convenience, destroy it for our safety, or conquer it for our financial or national interests, we bring to others what we have to offer and hope they will take it into their own lives as a gift. This is the difference that marked the Magi from Herod. Many holy innocents died because Herod felt threatened by the newborn king whom he didn’t understand. But the Magi’s quest for the promise of a better life and their gifts to the author of life live on each year as we celebrate the Epiphany. Herod created a tragedy, but the Magi won a triumph for the human spirit’s search for God. Strangers opened the door for the incarnate God to show Himself anew, born not just for the chosen few but choosing all to be born again in Christ.
The Epiphany, especially in the Western tradition of our church, is about Jesus meeting some strangers in the story of the Magi. These characters were not part of the household of God as it was drawn in the Jewish tradition. They were gentiles—people from far lands with strange dress, customs and different religions. They probably spoke a different language and ate different foods and dressed differently. They started out on a dangerous journey without a set destination. They didn’t fit with the people of first century Israel, but they ended up there because that is where their quest led them. They saw a new star, an omen of something new and promising arising for them and they followed it. They ended up at the place of the Christ Child offering what they had as gifts to honor Him.
With the tragic events in the news the last few weeks, we are perhaps even more suspicious of strangers than we tend to be in the normal course of things. What are they concealing? Why don’t they act, talk, look and live a life style like ours? Is their strangeness a sign of their unstable and sinister character? How do we rid ourselves of these strangers who threaten our peace and security?
The Epiphany story warns us to be careful in answering these questions and the suspicions they raise. Don’t come to easy and quick conclusions. Be alert, but don’t reject people who are different just because they are different. Be fair to the stranger. Treat him or her by the same rules that we use to keep order and safety among us all. Most of the destructive persons who have brought heartache and death in the recent tragedies were part of our neighborhoods, went to our schools, played with our children, worked in our communities. They were not strangers, but loners, without hope for a new and promising future, driven to make their mark and gain notoriety by taking life rather than giving it.
Maybe that is our first clue on how to create a secure environment for ourselves. We need to protect, uphold, enhance and contribute to each other’s life from the womb to the tomb. Rather than push another's life aside to get ahead, eliminate it for our convenience, destroy it for our safety, or conquer it for our financial or national interests, we bring to others what we have to offer and hope they will take it into their own lives as a gift. This is the difference that marked the Magi from Herod. Many holy innocents died because Herod felt threatened by the newborn king whom he didn’t understand. But the Magi’s quest for the promise of a better life and their gifts to the author of life live on each year as we celebrate the Epiphany. Herod created a tragedy, but the Magi won a triumph for the human spirit’s search for God. Strangers opened the door for the incarnate God to show Himself anew, born not just for the chosen few but choosing all to be born again in Christ.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Chistmas Sounds
Some sounds easily spook Baxter. The sound of the vacuum cleaner drives him nuts. He runs and hides as soon as the motor is turned on. Loud sounds usually startle him. His head and ears go up. His eyes open wide. He is ready to run if the sound continues. Baxter also gets spooked by the sound of crackling plastic from water bottles being smashed or from packaging on various products being torn open. Generally, it must be the frequency at which the sound travels that sets him off, because some noises don’t raise any reaction. The fire siren, thunder, car horns--he sleeps right through all of these. For Baxter, some sounds, because they are unusual, are threatening even when there is no danger, and others, which are meant to signal danger, fit into the frequencies of his familiar world.
We are more discriminating when it comes to sounds that set us off. Nails on a chalk board can create an automatic reaction, but usually we hear in a certain context that tells us what the sound might mean. A siren going off in a parade signals fun and celebration. A siren in the dead of night marks an emergency. Car horns sounding can be a friendly “hello” or draw attention to our annoyance at another driver. A clap of thunder can be fascinating over the Grand Canyon but startling and frightful over the roof of our house. We hear more than frequencies. We hear meanings and intentions in the sounds of our world. As believers, we are called to hear God.
Our faith tradition throughout its long history has always held that God speaks to human beings. From the Word that brought forth creation, to the Word of the prophets that called for repentance and renewal, to the Word that became flesh in Jesus, God is sending a message to us in various ways. These are not just random sounds, but purposeful ones, like Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony whose movements carry through a theme to a triumphant “Ode to Joy”. God sounds a theme throughout history that reaches its crescendo in Christ and is heard in the song of the angels, “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom His favor rests.” This is the rich and full sound of the climax of human salvation that continues to be proclaimed until the end of time.
There are no scary noises in the sounds of Christmas, but the carols, greetings and bells have deeper meanings than a nostalgic melody or pleasant sound. They signal God’s closeness to our human condition, His power to overcome its darkness, and His promise never to abandon us to our sin and death. The sounds of Christmas speak a deep mystery of divine love so profound and intimate that it sounds like the human heart beating with the life-blood of divine grace, like a baby’s cooing over God’s delight with His creatures, like a cat’s purring for the perfect harmony of the creature and the Creator in the redemption of the universe.
At first, these deeper Christmas sounds may seem strange, but don’t be afraid. LISTEN!
We are more discriminating when it comes to sounds that set us off. Nails on a chalk board can create an automatic reaction, but usually we hear in a certain context that tells us what the sound might mean. A siren going off in a parade signals fun and celebration. A siren in the dead of night marks an emergency. Car horns sounding can be a friendly “hello” or draw attention to our annoyance at another driver. A clap of thunder can be fascinating over the Grand Canyon but startling and frightful over the roof of our house. We hear more than frequencies. We hear meanings and intentions in the sounds of our world. As believers, we are called to hear God.
Our faith tradition throughout its long history has always held that God speaks to human beings. From the Word that brought forth creation, to the Word of the prophets that called for repentance and renewal, to the Word that became flesh in Jesus, God is sending a message to us in various ways. These are not just random sounds, but purposeful ones, like Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony whose movements carry through a theme to a triumphant “Ode to Joy”. God sounds a theme throughout history that reaches its crescendo in Christ and is heard in the song of the angels, “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom His favor rests.” This is the rich and full sound of the climax of human salvation that continues to be proclaimed until the end of time.
There are no scary noises in the sounds of Christmas, but the carols, greetings and bells have deeper meanings than a nostalgic melody or pleasant sound. They signal God’s closeness to our human condition, His power to overcome its darkness, and His promise never to abandon us to our sin and death. The sounds of Christmas speak a deep mystery of divine love so profound and intimate that it sounds like the human heart beating with the life-blood of divine grace, like a baby’s cooing over God’s delight with His creatures, like a cat’s purring for the perfect harmony of the creature and the Creator in the redemption of the universe.
At first, these deeper Christmas sounds may seem strange, but don’t be afraid. LISTEN!
Thursday, December 20, 2012
The Christmas Promise: A Purr
Only cats purr. No one is quite sure where it came from in the evolutionary line of development, but everyone agrees that this distinctive sound and vibration marks feline happiness and contentment. Baxter purrs at the drop of a hat since he has grown older. Scratch his neck, his chin, his chest or his belly, and he immediately starts to reverberate with the familiar sound of pleasure. He starts to purr as soon as he jumps on my lap and begins pummeling my belly with his front paws to find his comfortable spot. He purrs more than he meows and hisses, so I presume he is a happy cat.
Purring has a contagious effect. When I pet my purring friend, I begin to feel relaxed and comfortable. Something about that spontaneous vibration and its soothing sound calms anyone who comes into contact with it. Studies have shown that a cat’s purr can lower the blood pressure of those in contact with it. It exudes peace and contentment, and it spreads these qualities in the atmosphere around it. Happiness is infectious, even across species.
Jesus’ birth touches us in a similar way, but with a more profound impact. When God chose to become one with us in His Son, He did so not reluctantly or grudgingly but with delight and spontaneous joy. Such a divine intervention cannot contain itself. It overflows. The Christmas blessing generates a human condition marked by peace, genuine joy and relief from the drudgery and toil that are the effects of sin. These are the signs of grace incarnate. These are the hallmarks of the messianic age, and all of us who are citizens of God’s Kingdom are invited to share in these fruits. Taste the sweetness of the Lord up close and personal. An intimate God shouldn’t frighten us, any more than a purring cat does. Rather, the God born on Christmas spreads His delight and peace to those who welcome Him into the lap of their lives to rest content there.
But we have to listen carefully to catch the divine purr. At this time of the year it’s hidden in a child’s giggle, in the words of a familiar carol, in the warm wishes shared in cards and greetings, in the “ah” we hear when someone opens a surprise present. God is happy to be with us, and we benefit from His happiness in the deep joy and peace we find when we live in His grace. Like cats, we’re not sure how it works or why it happens this way, but we know we are blessed when we hear it. Have a “Purrfect Christmas!”
Purring has a contagious effect. When I pet my purring friend, I begin to feel relaxed and comfortable. Something about that spontaneous vibration and its soothing sound calms anyone who comes into contact with it. Studies have shown that a cat’s purr can lower the blood pressure of those in contact with it. It exudes peace and contentment, and it spreads these qualities in the atmosphere around it. Happiness is infectious, even across species.
Jesus’ birth touches us in a similar way, but with a more profound impact. When God chose to become one with us in His Son, He did so not reluctantly or grudgingly but with delight and spontaneous joy. Such a divine intervention cannot contain itself. It overflows. The Christmas blessing generates a human condition marked by peace, genuine joy and relief from the drudgery and toil that are the effects of sin. These are the signs of grace incarnate. These are the hallmarks of the messianic age, and all of us who are citizens of God’s Kingdom are invited to share in these fruits. Taste the sweetness of the Lord up close and personal. An intimate God shouldn’t frighten us, any more than a purring cat does. Rather, the God born on Christmas spreads His delight and peace to those who welcome Him into the lap of their lives to rest content there.
But we have to listen carefully to catch the divine purr. At this time of the year it’s hidden in a child’s giggle, in the words of a familiar carol, in the warm wishes shared in cards and greetings, in the “ah” we hear when someone opens a surprise present. God is happy to be with us, and we benefit from His happiness in the deep joy and peace we find when we live in His grace. Like cats, we’re not sure how it works or why it happens this way, but we know we are blessed when we hear it. Have a “Purrfect Christmas!”
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Advent Reflections: The Stretch
Baxter makes a point of stretching after a long nap. He gets up and first curls his back with his legs pushed straight up. Then he steps out extending one back paw and then the other away from his body in a three legged stance. Lastly, he reaches his front paws in front of him and sticks his butt in the air and pushes against the floor. All of these maneuvers are to stretch his body back into alignment after a lengthy period of twisted relaxation.
Stretching is important for Baxter and for us. After Baster’s routine, I can see him come alive again. He’s alert and agile and ready for another meal. Doctors and exercise gurus tell us that stretching before and after vigorous exertion helps prevent injuries and keeps muscles limber. Stretching should begin the warm up and close the cool down to any extended exercise routine. It not only completes the toning of our muscles, but it also keeps the ligaments and tendons that tie them to our skeleton supple and strong. Physically, stretching helps to tie our body together well.
The same holds true for stretching our spirit. We need regularly to move our spirits in ways that extend their normal reach and direction. We all have our comfort zones where we can move through life almost asleep. We know what to say, how to respond, whom and what we like and dislike when we’re in these places. We are curled up, comfortable and content in this state, and we don’t usually appreciate anyone disturbing our positions. Let me be, and I won’t bother anyone. But left in this attitude for too long, our spirits grow soft and weak, and we are vulnerable to injuries we never saw coming.
Advent stretches our spirits as the Spirit of God stirs in our midst. We see this in Mary when the Spirit overshadows her and asks her to take on a role in salvation history she never foresaw. Her mind had to think outside the box about God’s ways with humankind. Her heart had to trust in the goodness and integrity of what she could not fully understand. She had to continue to care for others—her cousin, Elizabeth; her betrothed, Joseph—even while she was uncertain and confused about her own situation. Her spirit was stretched in mind, heart and action by what happened to her with the angel’s announcement, but because of this extension of her life into the very history of God’s life with us all, she “magnified the Lord” and “found joy in God,” her Savior. Because God stretched her life beyond the boundaries set by conventional religious wisdom and she followed the divine exercises well, Mary stands before us now as a great and strong example of faithful discipleship.
So don’t just jog through Advent to get to another Christmas. Do some stretching exercises with your thoughts about this season, with your attitude toward it, and with the kind of generosity you offer during it. Your faith will grow stronger for it.
Stretching is important for Baxter and for us. After Baster’s routine, I can see him come alive again. He’s alert and agile and ready for another meal. Doctors and exercise gurus tell us that stretching before and after vigorous exertion helps prevent injuries and keeps muscles limber. Stretching should begin the warm up and close the cool down to any extended exercise routine. It not only completes the toning of our muscles, but it also keeps the ligaments and tendons that tie them to our skeleton supple and strong. Physically, stretching helps to tie our body together well.
The same holds true for stretching our spirit. We need regularly to move our spirits in ways that extend their normal reach and direction. We all have our comfort zones where we can move through life almost asleep. We know what to say, how to respond, whom and what we like and dislike when we’re in these places. We are curled up, comfortable and content in this state, and we don’t usually appreciate anyone disturbing our positions. Let me be, and I won’t bother anyone. But left in this attitude for too long, our spirits grow soft and weak, and we are vulnerable to injuries we never saw coming.
Advent stretches our spirits as the Spirit of God stirs in our midst. We see this in Mary when the Spirit overshadows her and asks her to take on a role in salvation history she never foresaw. Her mind had to think outside the box about God’s ways with humankind. Her heart had to trust in the goodness and integrity of what she could not fully understand. She had to continue to care for others—her cousin, Elizabeth; her betrothed, Joseph—even while she was uncertain and confused about her own situation. Her spirit was stretched in mind, heart and action by what happened to her with the angel’s announcement, but because of this extension of her life into the very history of God’s life with us all, she “magnified the Lord” and “found joy in God,” her Savior. Because God stretched her life beyond the boundaries set by conventional religious wisdom and she followed the divine exercises well, Mary stands before us now as a great and strong example of faithful discipleship.
So don’t just jog through Advent to get to another Christmas. Do some stretching exercises with your thoughts about this season, with your attitude toward it, and with the kind of generosity you offer during it. Your faith will grow stronger for it.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Advent Thoughts: A Calmer Christmas
Preparing for Christmas is a lot calmer these days. When Baxter was a kitten, it was a contest of wills, and I usually lost. The first Christmas Baxter and I shared, I was decorating the tree and suddenly discovered a pair of eyes staring back at me from the inside of the tree. Yes, it was Baxter. Tree decorations, nativity figures, garland, even Christmas pillows he considered his personal toys to chew, bat about, hide and sleep with. Christmas was a season of taking, not giving, for Baxter. He took whatever he wanted from the tree, shelves, wreaths, etc., and he used it for his pleasure and whim. They were all toys to entertain him and discard when something better came along.
Baxter is calmer about Christmas now. He may take a casual swipe at a tree ornament, but it ends there. He enjoys lying in front of the lit tree and staring at the twinkling lights. He seems to like the music. But, for the most part, he can’t be bothered with the rest of the paraphernalia of the season. Baxter has grown up.
Our faith calls us to grow up at Christmas. We can easily miss this invitation, because so many fancy, cute and romantic creations distract us during this season. The popular message is, “Make Christmas beautiful, tasty, sparkling, and spend what you must to get it that way.” Christmas gets reduced to toys not just for our children, but for us. We play with the “decorations” for the season to brighten our lives and satisfy our pleasures. The presents, the parties, the goodies and the packaging occupy our time and interest, and their meaning gets lost in the preparations. This meaning is the full story of Christ’s life.
Too often we limit the message of Christmas to Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem. But that’s just the beginning. The full message is what Jesus said and did throughout the course of His life to His death and resurrection. He brought hope to the hopeless. He spoke of God’s love in ways that broke down the barriers preventing that love from touching various human conditions. He reversed the order of privileges in the world, lifting up the lowly and sending the rich away empty. He touched the untouchable; healed the incurable; ate with the riff-raff; forgave the condemned; was generous to the undeserving. Finally, He died unfairly, apart from most of His followers, an apparent failure. All of this pointed to what was to follow: the transformation of the human condition by the power of God raising Jesus to new life after physical death. This is the complete Christmas scene that the stable only hints at. An adult Christmas looks for more than the trappings of this season. It looks for the whole story of how God saved us from sin and death. It is not always a sweet and delightful tale, but it is a profoundly meaningful one, one that can sustain us long after the decorations are put away.
Christmas is a wonderful time of the year, made even more wonderful by those who understand the full meaning of this season. We celebrate the birth of a divine love so deep that it embraced the whole gamut of human life, even dying to give new life to all. When we grow up to Christmas, we stop making toys for ourselves from the decorations of the season and start living seriously in the wonder of God’s love.
After a while, Baxter learned to celebrate Christmas differently; maybe we can as well.
Baxter is calmer about Christmas now. He may take a casual swipe at a tree ornament, but it ends there. He enjoys lying in front of the lit tree and staring at the twinkling lights. He seems to like the music. But, for the most part, he can’t be bothered with the rest of the paraphernalia of the season. Baxter has grown up.
Our faith calls us to grow up at Christmas. We can easily miss this invitation, because so many fancy, cute and romantic creations distract us during this season. The popular message is, “Make Christmas beautiful, tasty, sparkling, and spend what you must to get it that way.” Christmas gets reduced to toys not just for our children, but for us. We play with the “decorations” for the season to brighten our lives and satisfy our pleasures. The presents, the parties, the goodies and the packaging occupy our time and interest, and their meaning gets lost in the preparations. This meaning is the full story of Christ’s life.
Too often we limit the message of Christmas to Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem. But that’s just the beginning. The full message is what Jesus said and did throughout the course of His life to His death and resurrection. He brought hope to the hopeless. He spoke of God’s love in ways that broke down the barriers preventing that love from touching various human conditions. He reversed the order of privileges in the world, lifting up the lowly and sending the rich away empty. He touched the untouchable; healed the incurable; ate with the riff-raff; forgave the condemned; was generous to the undeserving. Finally, He died unfairly, apart from most of His followers, an apparent failure. All of this pointed to what was to follow: the transformation of the human condition by the power of God raising Jesus to new life after physical death. This is the complete Christmas scene that the stable only hints at. An adult Christmas looks for more than the trappings of this season. It looks for the whole story of how God saved us from sin and death. It is not always a sweet and delightful tale, but it is a profoundly meaningful one, one that can sustain us long after the decorations are put away.
Christmas is a wonderful time of the year, made even more wonderful by those who understand the full meaning of this season. We celebrate the birth of a divine love so deep that it embraced the whole gamut of human life, even dying to give new life to all. When we grow up to Christmas, we stop making toys for ourselves from the decorations of the season and start living seriously in the wonder of God’s love.
After a while, Baxter learned to celebrate Christmas differently; maybe we can as well.
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