How do you feel about snow globes? You know, those glass balls with some water,
some kind of white stuff and some Christmasy figure inside it. Most, in my opinion, are pretty cheesy. They have a cheap-looking Santa and poorly
painted reindeer or a red and green manger scene (seriously?). Then, every once in a while, in the midst of the cheesiness there comes one that is genuinely beautiful. We had one for years that had escaped the Curse of Christmas Tacky, beautiful snow geese, realistic snow and a nice
quality pedestal. I enjoyed looking at it for many years and was disappointed when the geese had discolored to the point that it was time to say goodbye to it.

Maybe I’m stretching here, but it seems to me that the season itself is a lot like those snow globes. Most of what we see every year at this time resembles those tacky globes—designed for a quick smile but nothing really important—and wholly without beauty. You see then everywhere,
especially in the big box stores.

Then, just when you think The Curse of Christmas Tacky has completely taken over, something of true beauty appears, something that reminds you that the core of this holiday season is not some shoddy decoration but the beauty of the presence of God among human beings. Emmanuel—God with us—is the beautiful message of Christmas, a message not gilded with fake gold leaf but wrapped in plain cloth; not boxed in paper and ribbon but laid gently in manger straw. The beauty of Christmas is simple, unadorned and bare, yet it is without equal.

Once you see the beauty of Jesus, born on Christmas because of God’s unfathomable love, you yearn for the true beauty of Christmas to push aside the singing snowmen and the second-rate snow globes, and to fill your heart with a warmth that is not fleeting but will last a lifetime.

May this Christmas season fill you with the true beauty of presence of God in the baby Jesus!
PD

NotyetreadyforChristmas

Okay, I admit it. I’m not ready for Christmas yet. I’m not in the mood today. Thank God for four weeks of Advent.

I always get droopy when winter begins. The sun goes away, the wonderful autumn colors fade to gray, and the refreshing chill is taken over by biting cold. Everyone seems rushed and there’s pressure to spend money on everything imaginable. The weather, the economy, and the drabness all do little to provide hope for any of us. And the notion of unbridled shopping might provide some of us with a momentary thrill, but even the most materialistic among us know that the commercial excitement of the season is destined to fizzle quite quickly.

When I look around American society I often see few reasons for hope. We seem to have lost our ability to empathize with one another, simple civil behaviors, from saying thank you to stopping at red lights, seem to have gone by the wayside and people seem intently self-focused. We are as “me-centered” as we have ever been. I am struck by how often people become petty, worry about things that truly have no significance and spend their energy on meaninglessness. Recently I have met a number of people who are just angry, and are willing to take out their anger on anyone within reach. Such observations do not make for a merry Christmas.

That may be the blessing of Advent, a season dedicated not to instant celebration, but to looking ahead. The season begins with looking ahead to Jesus’ final reappearance, when the reign and rule of God become clear for all to see. No longer will we wonder, no longer will we have unanswered questions, for God will be revealed in a way that transcends our most vivid imaginations. The timing is hidden, the method is cryptic, but the promise is sure: we will see Jesus! There is hope (HOPE!) in that promise!

But Advent doesn’t stay in the realm of an otherworldly future. After the looking-ahead-kickoff, the season turns our attention to preparing for Christmas by immersing us in Scripture stories of John the Baptizer and the angel’s appearances to Joseph and Mary, all helping to prepare our way into the miraculous manger. Advent fights our consumer-crazed desire to rush headlong into that stable, knocking mother and child flying, all in search of peace on earth or presents for the tree. Advent slows us down, asks us to look ahead with patience, to seek an audience with the Christ child from the depths of our beings, to see past glitz, glam and glitter to kneel before an unlikely altar; a feeding trough in which lies the Son of God.

So, perhaps it’s okay that I’m not ready for Christmas just yet. Maybe you’re not, either, and that’s okay too. The beautiful blessing of Advent is that God takes on our frustrations, our chaos, and even our droopiness and pushes them aside so that you and I can anticipate the real reason for the Christmas season: Immanuel, God with us.