One of the serious responsibilities of parenthood is pulling
off Christmas. If you have a little posse of kids you already know what I
am talking about. Weeks and weeks of mad-dashing and shopping and
wrapping and brainstorming and decorating and planning and pouring
eggnog and peeling baggy oranges and unsticking candy-canes from table
tops and carpets and the bottom of hot chocolate mugs. Frantically
realizing that you failed to mail packages in time, or that you forgot
to order in time for free shipping, or that you still haven’t done the
gingerbread house kit with the kids, and that you’ve even managed to
fall four days behind on the Advent calendar.
Then there are all the things that you are trying to do differently
than last year — the things learned from unfortunate experience.
Correcting gift imbalances. Learning what kinds of stocking stuffers
actually survive past Christmas afternoon.
And, of course, you are stressing yourself out with what seems like
completely unnecessary work. Who wanted to sew everyone new pajamas in
the first place? Who thought we should be knitting the Christmas
stockings? Why is it after midnight and I am still up making caramels?
What is the point of messing around with a real tree, with lights, with
sick amounts of baking?
On top of this, basic parenting through the Christmas season can be a
real minefield, too. Sometimes the kids start being greedy, sometimes
things that you wanted to be special aren’t even noticed. Sometimes no
one wants to sing Christmas carols around the dinner table.
Not Exactly a Catalog Shot
Christmas comes to the real families of this real world. Often, it
doesn’t look like a catalog shot, but more like a blooper reel. Turkeys
burn. Gravy clots into lumps. Presents that you thought came with
batteries didn’t. You end up presenting someone’s gift in a garbage bag.
Kids might get grabby around the Christmas tree. People might not like
the gift you thought they would like, and they can even be too tired to
pretend. Headaches know no seasonal bounds. Life happens.
This is why we have all heard people talk about Christmas like we all
just need to get a grip. Where has our spirituality gone that we are
worrying about a holiday five weeks in advance? Real Christians would
celebrate quietly around the fire with some spiritual reflections,
perhaps some small handmade token, or just a loving smile. There would
have been no stress in that Christmas, only calm. There would be a
sensibly portioned meal with no excess of pie or fudge or stray cookie
platters. There would be some restraint. What are we really teaching our
children about holy days? And why are we apparently so willing to float
down the raging stream of our consumerist culture?
The Earth-Shaking Magic
I certainly support the variety of traditions that people use to
celebrate Christmas, but there is one very important part of Christmas
that is all too often overlooked, and it applies to everyone. Brace
yourselves. . . .
Christmas is the ultimate celebration of the
material.
Because Christmas is the time when God became man. Word to Flesh.
Unfettered spirit to the hazards and joys and stresses of physical life.
Think about it. Some people want to filter the material out of
Christmas and morph it into some pure ethereal spirit religious day. And
some people want to filter all the spiritual out of it and make it
simply a holiday celebrating the purchasing power of plastic. But the
power of Christmas is when spiritual and material meet. And it always
has been. That is the joy of the season, that is the good news, that is
the laughter and the paradox and the earth-shaking magic of Christmas.
The infinite Word became a physical baby.
It wasn’t like that first Christmas was a time of quiet reflection.
Mary and Joseph were on a huge last-minute trip. And she’s big pregnant
on a donkey? Think of it. It sounds like the worst travel experience of
all time. No room. No bed. No privacy. Baby coming. Not just any baby
either — one Mary knew was the Messiah. Angels? Shepherds dropping in?
You think she felt dressed for that? I doubt Mary had time to throw
together a cheese platter. She was in a barn, forced to place the King
of kings — her Lord — in a trough. And I doubt her livestock roommates
were quite as cute as they look in the storybooks.
The truth is, that’s what it’s like when the Spiritual becomes
Material. When God became Man. It’s not easy, because it turns the world
upside down, a true cataclysm of joy.
If We Lose Sight
Our celebrations aren’t supposed to be smooth, effortless bits of
quiet either. They should be as big and as glorious and as spiritual and
as physical as we can make them.
Clearly, the attitude with which everything is done is important. If
the house is full of physical holiday cheer, but Mom is yelling about
the snow boots by the door, the blending has not been complete. If
Christmas dinner turns out beautifully, but no one wants to be together,
something has gone wrong. But the remarkable thing is that doing it all
wrong, having bad attitudes, and resenting the work will not affect the
power of Christmas at all. The neighbors throwing money at their
children and resenting each other will not slow down anything.
That first Christmas was enough for all time, and no amount of fussing
from us about all the busy work will slow it down. We can give each
other stink-eyes all day long, and the world will just go on being
transformed. The only thing that we can actually damage by losing sight
of the point of Christmas is our children.
We Are Christmas to Our Children
Because what we do on Christmas is an acted out statement of faith. To our children,
we are Christmas.
We are their memories. We are the story. We are acting out both the
surprised shepherds in the fields with their problems and squabbles and
regular lives, and also the heavenly host that came to them singing,
“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will towards
men.”
We can’t stop being the shepherds this side of glory, and God doesn’t
want us to. He wants us to be the shepherds the whole way through that
story. Listening, fearing, following, worshipping. We are bringing our
children alongside us as we come in out of our worldly fields, smelling
like sheep, to fall at the feet of an infant king in a trough, beside
livestock and an exhausted teenaged mother. This is what Christmas is
all about. So stay up past twelve making fudge, and do it laughing.
Revel in the candy-cane carnage and sap and shopping and crunchy
pine-needles in the carpet. Show your children that we serve the Word
made Flesh.
Rachel Jankovic is a wife, homemaker, and mother. She is the author of "Loving the Little Years" and blogs at Femina. Her husband is Luke, and they have five children: Evangeline (5), Daphne (4), Chloe (2), Titus (2), and Blaire (5 months).