Christmas Spirit

 December 22, 2021

Tomorrow is what my eldest son’s family calls “Christmas Adam,” obviously the day before Christmas Eve. For years, they have gathered with long-time friends for dinner and an evening of fellowship and music. It’s their launch into what is always a very busy couple days with Christmas Eve gatherings and worship services, Christmas Day celebrations, and their Abigail’s birthday. This year, it will be capped off by Sunday’s worship services—four days of family and faith.

In the Bailey household, the decorations are all in place, courtesy of Linda. Were it up to me, I might have a tree up by Christmas Day. There is always a certain feel to the season, an anticipation that builds to a climax at the 11:00 pm service. Yesterday, Linda said to me, “I like the anticipation better than the actual day.” I understand. We have laden Christmas with a burden it is incapable of bearing. 

It is after all, merely a day. Certainly, we celebrate the birth of our Savior, but we have come to expect so much more—that somehow all this window dressing will fill the longings of our hearts. We say that the giving of gifts is to honor Christ, God’s gift to us, but most of our giving is little more than swapping; other than what we give our little children, we mainly give to those who in return, give to us.

To be sure, we perhaps open our wallets a bit more, dropping change into the Salvation Army bucket, or helping out at the Soup Kitchen or Food Pantry, but it’s not quite the same, giving boxes of stuff we ourselves didn’t purchase.

The other day, I took such a box to a young man whose life has been a long series of one tragedy after another. To be sure, by his own admission, some of it was his own fault—bad decisions made early in life. He wants a different life than he’s now living, but health issues, caring for a needy mother, and just plain bad luck dogs his every step. 

As we sat and talked, I thought to myself, “There has to be more I can do.” I don’t know how to put together the array of services that can help him get back on his feet, but I cannot be content with a mere box of food and a prayer. If Christmas means anything at all, it means following the example of God himself who gave us his Son when we had nothing at all to give in return. It was inconvenient for him, painful, sacrificial, but giving in such a way never diminishes one. This kind of giving actually makes us bigger, better, and more like God himself. 

So yes, I’ll exchange gifts with family and friends, but I have no illusion about what is happening. It is when I give to someone who cannot return the favor, and only then, that I imitate Christ. And it is then that I’ll feel “the Christmas spirit,” or more accurately, the favor of God upon me.