It is not quite New Years yet, but today did, nonetheless, seem like a good day for a little bit of reflection. Tom and I slept in after attending an 11PM candlelight service at a PCUSA(*) church (the one with the really nice seats). I have been thinking that since I have decided that God and Jesus do exist, that it was time for me to change my approach to Christmas, and move away from my Christmases past to my Christmas present (no pun intended) and toward my Christmases of the future.
In the past, Christmas never had anything to do with a child born in a manger far away over 2000 years ago. Well, I did go through all the motions: sang the songs, decorated the tree, etc... but Christmas to me was just (just should not be taken lightly as Christmas did mean a lot) a wonderful opportunity for the family to stop and get together and enjoy each others' company without the usual hustle and bustle of the world. Christmas always brought with it a certain undescribeable feeling, a feeling of not only anxiously awaiting the chance to open the gifts under the tree, but also of the scents, sounds, and sights. Christmas was special even if Christ was missing in the equation and I was only a Christian by name (I was after all Baptized and confirmed in the Lutheran church).
As previously mentioned, I was then thinking about how I would need to change my approach to Christmas from my Christmases past to my Christmas present. OK, there may actually be a little bit of a pun here.... This year, even though I tried to add Christ back in the equation, I still found myself anxiously awaiting the chance to open the gifts under the tree. Every day I waited by the door for the postman to deliver my gifts from back home; they have not arrived yet. My theory on the Christmas boxes is that he is holding them hostage because we have not given him a Christmas present. The reason why I decided to look into Christianity was, that dealing with a crippling disease without some kind of faith, is really not an option. The pastor last night really did a good job describing it in his sermon. He described it as there is a little something undescribable missing in your life; he hit the nail on the head by quoting one of my favorite authors, scholars, thinkers, namely Jack (C.S. Lewis). He quoted a small passage from the book Surprised by Joy "The experience of Joy is that of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction" (Surprised by Joy p 17). For a moment while in church last night I had that feeling. The feeling that it was OK that my Christmas presents from Denmark had not shown up, it was OK that all I could afford to buy for Tom this year was a Belgian Waffle maker on clearance from Kohl's, it was really all OK for just a moment. For a little while there was peace, no MD, no bills, no cold weather, no leaking toilets... nothing, just peace.
I hope that over the next year(s) I will be able to investigate and develop this little something undescribable missing in my life. I hope that I will be able to celebrate my future Christmases with more peace, and less fear and worry, with the trust and faith in a God I am just now getting to know.
Merry Christmas and God Bless us Everyone.
Contact email keepinghopejourney@gmail.com
*One of two branches of the Presbyterian church we have attended
A quote for you to ponder from "A Historian's Long View On Living With Lou Gehrig's" a Fresh Air Interview with Tony Judt.
ReplyDeleteOn his religious views:
"I don't believe in an afterlife. I don't believe in a single or multiple godhead. I respect people who do, but I don't believe it myself. But there's a big 'but' which enters in here. I am much more conscious than I ever was — for obvious reasons — on what it will mean to people left behind once I'm dead. It won't mean anything for me. But it will mean a lot to them. It's important to them — by which I mean my children or my wife or my very close friends — that some spirit of me is in a positive way present in their lives, in their heads, in their imaginations and so on. So [in] one curious way I've come to believe in the afterlife — as a place where I still have moral responsibilities, just as I do in this life — except that I can only exercise them before I get there. Once I get there, it will be too late. So, no God. No organized religion. But a developing sense that there's something bigger than the world we live in, including after we die, and we have responsibilities in that world."