Making New Traditions at Christmas

Christmas is a season during which we often place great weight on tradition. We reenact, year after year, things we’ve done previously, elements of past Christmases that hold memory and meaning for us. Though we may balk at tradition at other times, we hold on to Christmas traditions with great zealousness.

Yet there are times when those traditions are no longer available to us. Children grow up, family members die, divorce happens, people move, etc. When these things happen, we grieve the loss of traditions. We may bemoan that things are not what they have been. We lose the patterns of holidays that are as comfortable and familiar as well-worn shoes.

We can become angry, blame those whose changes have wrought changes to our traditions, or simply let ourselves become depressed and despairing. When tempted to embrace an unhealthy emotion, maybe it is good to consider the first Christmas and the chaos it caused to all who were a part of it. An unmarried young woman, pregnant, a betrothed who sticks with her at the risk to his own reputation, a birth away from home and the difficult journey preceding it—there really was nothing very peaceful and calm about that first Christmas!

This year I am thinking of ways to create new traditions around this season.  The inspiration for this came from my Christmas tree. The Christmas I was separated from my spouse, I almost didn’t get a tree. Not knowing whether the separation would be temporary or permanent, the practical side of me thought not to, but I realized that having a tree could provide an emotional lift in a chaotic and stressful holiday season. To appease my practicality, I purchased a $15 prelit tabletop tree and a $1 package of small star ornaments for it. I tied a small gold ribbon at the top and placed my presents for family and friends around it.

This is my third Christmas with my little tree. While in Portland Oregon with friends, I found small wooden bird ornaments that fit both my tree and my personality (I love birds). Another friend brought me some small shiny balls to add to my tree. Decorating it this year was something I looked forward to, because it represented people and memories that I cherish.

My tree is inspiring me to consider how I might make more new traditions for the Christmas season. I want to embrace that things may be as chaotic as they were the first Christmas, and yet also imagine ways to create traditions that will be touchstones in the sometimes messy circumstances that are indicative of “real life.”

Whether your holiday season is chaotic or calm, I pray you can be patient, loving and centered in God’s peace, not just at this time of year but always. Merry Christmas!

Present in the Transitions

When Jesus heard about John, he withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself. When the crowds learned this, they followed him on foot from the cities.

                                                                                --Matthew 14:13

Jesus needed some alone time after learning of the execution of his cousin John. The only time he could claim was the time on the boat. As soon as he landed, he was once again surrounded by crowds.

I imagine Jesus found the time on the boat soothing to his grieving soul, enabling him to then be fully present with the crowds who were waiting for him when he came ashore. It is a reminder to me to not fail to be fully present in the transitions of life.

Our achievement/accomplishment oriented culture places greater emphasis on the destination than the process required to get there. We are constantly looking ahead to the next thing, but when we do this, we miss the gifts of being on the way.

Recently I observed a Luna moth on a UPS drop box as I was walking on a downtown sidewalk from my apartment to my car. Had I been lost in thought about my to-do list, I might have missed a moment of beauty. And this morning as I parked my car in a large parking lot to go to an appointment, I heard a hawk. I stopped, looking in the sky to see if I could see it. I found it perched in a pine tree that is growing at the edge of the lot. It was a gift to appreciate as I moved toward my destination.

It takes intentionality to be as present climbing the stairs, walking across a parking lot, riding an elevator or standing in line as we are when we first put our bare feet in the sand on a long awaited beach trip, or are eating lunch with a friend we haven’t seen in a while, or celebrating a milestone moment of life.

Seeking God’s presence in the moments between moments, in the spaces between thoughts, or in the transitions between events enriches all of life and disposes us to see God in ways we could miss if we are only focused on accomplishments or destinations. Much of Jesus’ ministry happened when he was on the way. I pray we can appreciate the “on the way” moments as much as the moments of arrival or accomplishment.

Seen

Humans see only what is visible to the eyes, but the Lord sees the heart.

                                                                                                                --1 Samuel 16:7b

 Because I am seen by God

   I want to see others as God sees them.

There are those who have seen me this way.

   They helped me to live.

   They loved me to new life.

To see another as God sees them—

   what greater gift can we give?

Was it God’s seeing of David,

   his anointing by Samuel,

   that sparked the faith to face Goliath?

Being seen is the sun and water

   for the Godseed in our hearts.

We grow and bloom when seen as God sees.

   We catch fire and burn brightly,

   fully engulfed with life and light.

Attentiveness to the Transitions

When Jesus heard about John he withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself. When the crowds learned this, they followed him on foot from the cities.   –Matthew 14:13

After hearing of the death of John the Baptist, Jesus needs some time to himself. However, the only time he gets is the time on the boat. Alone on the water, I imagine him feeling the rocking motion and hearing the waves lapping against the hull. Other than this, things are still, quiet, calm. I can imagine the time on the water soothes his pain.

I’ve read this verse many times but never before have I thought about Jesus’ time on the water. That was merely a transition from point A to point B in my mind. However, a group from my church recently returned from a pilgrimage to Israel. I asked two different men at two different events last week to describe their most memorable moment of the time away. Both of them described being on a boat in the Sea of Galilee in silence for about ten minutes—no boat engine, no conversation. Just silence.

Their descriptions of this experience caused me to pay attention to this verse that details Jesus’ movement by boat. Having heard my friends describe their experience, my own imagination went with Jesus into the boat, and I shared the experience with him. It reminds me that being present is not only about arriving at a destination, but also about being present in the transitions of life, mundane as they often are. For Jesus had only the boat time to renew himself, only that time alone on the water to attend to his grief.

The transitions in my day and yours are many and we often miss the gifts they offer us. Climbing the stairs, driving the car, standing in line, walking across a parking lot—all these are times we can choose to be present and attentive or we can merely be focused on getting to the next thing.

Years ago, I was looking out my office window into the parking lot. A bush was alive with cedar waxwings, devouring the berries. I was mesmerized as I watched them. A coworker pulled his car into the parking space near the bush, got out of the car and walked into the building. He never saw the birds right there in front of him. That happened thirty-plus years ago and I still remember it.

So today, I want to pay attention to the transitions, to the moments between moments, the pauses between words, the spaces between thoughts or breaths. Those are opportunities to be aware of the Spirit’s presence.

Gifts

This has been and continues to be a meaningful Advent season for me, but not in the way I have experienced it in previous years. In the past, I have found meaning in different Advent devotional books, which I’ve read in the early morning darkness each day. And while I’ve read Advent devotions this year, the meaningfulness of this Advent has been found in relationships.

Reflecting over Advent thus far, what shimmers forth for me are the experiences of laughter, hugs, meals shared, worship, work done together with gladness and conversations that help me to know others better, that open doors to deeper connections. These have been for me the gifts of Advent for me this year. I am grateful for each of these experiences, which represent God’s lavish gift of love and koinonia.

What I’ve received so richly cannot be contained in a box, cannot be tied up with ribbon, cannot fit under the largest tree. The gift of relationships that incarnate God’s love is what I treasure this season.

Choices

A poem/reflection on Matthew 4:1-2

The wilderness is a place of starving,

of stripping. A place where

what seemed important,

now seems either

necessity or nothing.

Senses become clearer by sparseness

or consumed by what is now gone.

When you are starving you have

a choice: to focus on what

you no longer have

or

to be filled and nourished by

your emptiness.

Listen

As for you, what you heard from the beginning must remain in you.

                                                                                                                                1 John 2:24a

Long before I was in the womb, long

before I was even an egg—when I was alive

only in the mind of God—

God whispered into me her dream for me.

The word I heard from the beginning

brought me into being.

It remains in me, a spark, which,

ignited by self-knowledge, fills

all of me with light and life.

Listen, my heart.

Listen.

What stokes my fire?

What makes my soul dance?

What nourishes my joy?

Listen.

These reveal how God’s dream

resounds in me. May my life

sing its unique song into the void

I was created to fill.

Exuberance

Jeremiah 31:2-13

Grace in the wilderness!

A foretaste of freedom, of life

abundant, new, filled with surprise!

God-sized gifts, deepest longings met,

my heart bursts with love and praise.

Loved with a love that lasts

forever. Forever! Home—

extravagant garden of God’s heart.

I dance and dwell in gratitude,

laughter my song of joy!

Songs of Praise

Psalm 148

Rambling robin song greets me in the early morning darkness.

Wrens and mockingbirds belt out their praise and I wonder—

how does the wren bring so much volume from its tiny body,

how does the mockingbird remember all the songs it sings?

When I’m lucky, I hear the soft lament of the song sparrow,

reminding me that lament is also praise.

And in the morning light the starlings’ song makes me smile.

Each bird sings its praise using its unique voice, and so it is with us.

What song am I given to sing?

What song is yours?

Arboretum

Genesis 2:4-14

Season after season I walks these paths.

Always they are fresh, offering me

something new, hawking their wares loudly or

coyly challenging me to discover what’s changed

since last I ventured here. My eyes, ears and feet

argue—who will lead the way? So much to see,

so much to hear—I’m almost frozen in place taking it in,

though my feet, like police, say move on, move on.

For all I see, I still miss much.

My brain cannot process all the sounds I hear, and my feet

never get to walk as far and fast as they’d like.

With such abundance in one small place

I cannot fathom the superfluity of God in all the world.

Threshold

Genesis 32:6-12

Sometimes the threat seems bigger than we can address.

We feel small and alone even surrounded by people who love us.

Sometimes way forward is impossible to see, and we feel trapped—

unable to go back and afraid to take a step into an unknown future.

That is when memory gifts us (if we let it)

with experiences from earlier times when we were in a similar place

and lived through it by God’s faithfulness.

Jacob came full circle, beginning with a desert promise,

recalled as he stood at another desert threshold.

Life gives us many such places—thresholds,

points of uncertainty, tension and challenge—places of coming

full circle, of familiar unfamiliarity, where we know

we may be afraid, but we won’t be alone.

Signs and Wonders

Daniel 4:1-8

Generous God, I cannot begin to name

all the signs and wonders you have shown me,

especially in the recent past. Kindnesses

sent when I was at my lowest, surprises when a

word read affirmed or clarified an earlier thought,

opportunities more abundant than I could have imagined.

Some were truly improbable—

the red bird that crashed into a window beside me.

As it lay on the ground and drew its last breath, I was given

the answer to a troubling question. The dream that revealed

something I could not have known any other way.

The weight of unseen hands on my head, blessing me

for a journey I didn’t know was coming.

You are a God who constantly surprises.

Thank you for all love’s expressions, for the way

you reveal yourself time and time again. Amen.

Bread

Matthew 6:9-13

Bird song, fresh air,

time to sit quietly,

meaningful work and meaningful people

to do it with,

laughter, coffee, exercise,

relationships of depth and knowing

and flowers—these are gifts

that feed my spirit, radiate

God’s presence, nurture my heart.

These are my daily bread.