It's just not as easy as it used to be. Time was, when I would watch the sun rising as I was finishing up a term paper, having worked the entire night through. When I was in seminary, I would drive all night from Chicago to Western NY just to get home for Christmas. Countless cups of Thruway coffee would have me literally shaking by the time we rolled into Linda's folks' place. I'd crash for about five hours, then was ready to go again. I couldn't replicate that feat today, no matter how hard I tried.
When I heard they were performing tonight, I really wanted to go hear them, but even though I love Bill Ward and Amanda Barton's singing and playing, after a 1:30 am bedtime following last night's Christmas Eve service, and a full day with the family, when their 9:00 pm showtime rolled around, this old body just wasn't up to the travel and the hour. Instead, here I am, reflecting on the day, grateful for these two people who give so much to our area through their music, and grateful that Lord willing, there will be plenty more opportunities to hear them now that I'm retired.
Earlier today, I posted on Facebook a photo showing our (grown) son Matt, chowing down on Linda's bean dip after having locked his (equally grown) brother out of the house. Of course, that was in retaliation for his brother having stopped over earlier to take and send to his brother pictures of himself getting the first taste of the bean dip. These shenanigans have been as much a part of the Bailey Christmas tradition as singing Silent Night and opening presents on Christmas morning.
At first glance, it might appear that such carryings-on have little to do with the "true meaning of Christmas." I know some folks who would be scandalized by such Christmas frivolity, insisting that such a holy day as the birth of our Savior should be honored with a bit more solemnity, but I would argue otherwise. Many Christians tend to take themselves too seriously, which in my opinion, is a dangerous thing. When religion is taken too seriously, we end up with such things as the Westboro Baptist Church and ISIS. The Gospel proclaims that Christmas is a time for joy; God has taken on human flesh, becoming like us in our weakness in order to defeat through the weakness of death the posturing and counterfeit power of the devil. C.S. Lewis in his little book, "The Screwtape Letters," notes that the one thing the devil can't stand is to be mocked, because he takes himself so seriously. He has to, because he knows his ultimate end, which is why he rages so. The Gospel is a story that celebrates with joy his defeat, enabling us to laugh even at our own foibles because we know that the devil's power over us has been broken.
So Christmas has its solemn, worshipful moments, but also laughter and perhaps even silliness. Before the day finished, our boys, pastor Joe, and the younger grandkids were engaged in a hot Nerf gun war, with Nerf darts flying in every direction as we sat around the breakfast bar in Nate and Deb's kitchen. It's late; I'm tired, but also filled with joy and thankful that on this day, the darkness was pushed back as the Light came into the world so we could laugh and rejoice.
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