thesoulpurposedotorg

A little over two years ago, we had a fire in our townhouse. The Christmas decorations were still up which meant that most were either smoke or fire damaged. Fortunately, I had decided to decorate the tree in brass and white that year; “fortunately” because brass does not get smoke or fire damaged and “fortunately” because the ornaments that held memories of my adult children’s childhood were packed away in a smoke-retardant container.

This townhouse has never been my childrens home and we have never celebrated Christmas here together. This Christmas they will be in Kentucky with their father in another home in which they have never lived. We have learned over the years to share the traditions that we once shared as an intact family. But it is hard on them, very hard.

I think of this when I hear the nonsence about the “political” correctness of the season. The decorations of homes and businesses, government buildings and churches are lovely to see but they have nothing to do with the birth of Christ from my point of view. For the record, I registered great protest through out my children’s public education when they were taught the religious meaning of other holidays but not allowed to sing of the birth of Christ or even to write about their own religious views in their school papers.

The decorations of the season seem to me to be mostly about sentiment, memories and hope for something that we can’t quite grasp as a society. The birth of Christ was so much more than that. Whether or not someone says “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays” on a newscast or when I pay the cashier is meaningless to me. None of it has a wit to do with the birth of Jesus of Nazareth.

The birth of Christ is about hope. The holidays, for my family as for many others, hold a mixture of feelings. We are reminded of our brokenness on each and every one. Our celebration brings back memories that are bittersweet, comforting and grief-filled at the same time. But the birth of Christ? That gives us hope. We cannot of our own be anything but broken. Nothing can change that historical and emotional fact. But Jesus gives us a way to forgive one another, a way to be family because we are children of God together, a way to know a little bit of “Peace on Earth and Goodwill to All” that is beyond logic.

Today I put up the two surviving wreaths out of the dozen or so I had collected over the years. I found a manger similar to the one destroyed and tomorrow we’ll put the crèche in place and I will remember that my children took turns every year choosing how each piece would be displayed. And when I put the baby Jesus in front of Mary and Joseph, I will give thanks for them and I will pray that they will always know the peace of that Christ whose birth we celebrate and that it will sustain them all of their years.