For many people Christmas is a special, wonderful and even magical time of year. For others it is haunting, empty and depressing. How can so many diverging emotions come crashing down at the same time and impact each one of us differently? Isn’t this supposed to be a time of promise, hope and expectation?
As for me, I find myself falling somewhere in the middle of all the emotions. My holiday memories aren’t good, great or wonderful, nor are they lacking, disappointing or empty. They are just another day in the year. In all of my 46 Christmases, none stand out. Don’t get me wrong I’ve had good presents, not so good presents and “what in the world is this” presents. I guess it’s really never been about gift, whether receiving or giving.
Before we get too deep in this, I am also not a “Keep Christ in Christmas”, “Jesus is the Reason for the Season”, “Wise Men Still Seek Him”, or any of the other cute clichés we Christians have come up with over the years to battle modernity, consumerism and idolatry. Seriously? You can’t take Christ out of Christmas, because without Him, there is no Christmas holiday. Besides, if I went down that path like I originally thought I might, I would be stoned in the street, burned at the stake and taken out to sea to walk the plank. Just to tease you, my original article was going to be “X Marks the Spot”, but I will save that for another “X-Mas” to come. (Ok, ok no gnashing of teeth please)
Since a very young age I learned to keep my expectations low so they will always be exceeded, and I would keep disappointment to a minimum. Some would say this is a sad way to view things. Maybe so; however, my wife would confirm that I don’t have a lot of disappointment or regret in my life. For instance, I don’t consider myself a pessimist or optimist; I’m an opportunist. The glass is neither half empty nor half full; instead I look at what is in the glass, regardless of measure, and determine how I can put it to good use.
Christmas time is often like the glass, and the gift is what’s in the glass. Ironically, we view our relationship with Christ in the same manner. Christ is the glass, and our relationship with Him is determined by the measure of what He gives us. This is why Christmas and Christ seem to be so volatile to our emotions this time of year. We focus more on what’s in the glass and less on the glass.
Christ is centric to Christmas, He is centric to our lives each and every day, but we have reduced Him and this holiday to a self-serving, self-centered, “what’s in it for me”, “One Stop Santa Shop”. Then we wonder why we are empty in our relationship with Him and the holiday becomes such a let down. Hope is not found in the measure and contents of the glass, but in the fact the glass has been perfectly designed, crafted and imaged after the Glass Maker.
Since that day 2000+ years ago when Christ came to earth to save humanity from the wrath of God, He lived, died and was resurrected to restore ALL that was broken in humanity. You see…Christ’s substitutionary work at the cross, transferred the role of the glass from Himself to us. Now we are the glass in our generation with great opportunity to pour out of us the love, grace, mercy and forgiveness of Christ. Not just on a single day each year, but every day of our life.
It’s hard to be selfish, when giving. It’s hard to be disappointed, when exceeding the expectations of others. It’s hard to fail, when fighting for the success of our neighbors. It’s hard to judge, when being merciful. It’s hard to condemn, when showing grace. It’s hard to hate, when loving.
Yes, Christ is the greatest gift, the reason for the season and will always be in Christmas. Not because of nifty rhetoric, creating marketing or the battle for public displays of manger scenes, but because He lives each day in us, to be poured out through us to a world who only knows of Him one day a year.
James Miller Jr
“Missionary to a Generation”
*Published in the Christmas 2013 issue of the Port Aransas South Jetty newspaper. via The Christmas Glass – Grace Community Church of Port Aransas.
