Sacred Cynicism

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   For most of the lives of our children, we celebrated Christmas in the same manner. One of the ways we celebrated was by cutting down a Christmas tree every year. We went out to a Christmas tree farm, walked down row after row of trees, and eventually would narrow the choice down to two or three trees. Rarely would those trees be remotely close to each other, so we would walk back and forth, comparing the relative strengths and weaknesses of each tree. Eventually, we would make our choice, and then I, as the dad, would lay down in the snow, mud, or cold ground and cut down the tree. Yet the battle was only just beginning, for we had to carry the tree to the car, tie it down, drive it home, and then get it into the house.

   There was still much to love about this process. We loved having a live tree, and really enjoyed the aroma that filled the house. Yet in the days following Christmas the needles would begin to fall off, and we had to clean up the mess after the tree was removed. All of the struggle was worth it, until a few years ago. At that point my wife and I decided that we were tired of the mess, and my back was tired of dragging the tree to the car, so we purchased our first artificial tree. We found one on sale, brought it home, and erected it in the living room. It even looked pretty nice, and there was no mess. As husband and wife we celebrated the tree and the lack of evergreen droppings in our house. Then our daughter came home and saw the artificial tree.

   Little did we realize how attached she had become to our usual practice. We knew she loved Christmas, but we did not realize how important the real tree was to her. Christmas would be ruined with this fake, impostor tree, she insisted. There was something missing from Christmas now, and it was something real and living. Yes, Christmas still came, and the presence of the artificial tree became less and less noticed. Yet there is a larger lesson in this story. Perhaps I am drawing too large of a lesson here, but hopefully we realize that the important parts of this season are the real and living ones.

   We live in a culture that celebrates the season in a rather odd way. We even have invented new terms to describe this season. “Black Friday” and “Doorbusters” are now a regular part of the lexicon. We camp outside of stores to get a deal, and it seems from the news reports that we even trample shoppers in an effort to get to the sale aisle first. We wait in long lines, park in crowded lots, and run ourselves ragged just to get everything done. A few weeks into December and we are harried, exhausted, and worn out. We have experienced lights, crowds, and busy schedules, but have we experienced anything real? And if Christmas is supposed to celebrate a living God, how come we feel so exhausted and dead? Perhaps our habits do not match the holiday.

    This Christmas perhaps we can remember to look for the real. Instead of lights, crowds, and bustle, we can revel in the warmth of our friends and families. Even more importantly we need to find time to celebrate the living. Somewhere in the midst of this season, we can stop and listen for the God who came to live among us. We might think that His time with us was over and done with 2,000 years ago, but if we listen, we may become familiar with the One who still lives among His people.

    One other thing. Much like the real trees we used to cut down and bring home, real life sometimes is messier than we would like it to be. There are broken expectations, the sap of sad emotions caused by recent losses, and hurts from long ago. As we yearn for the perfect Christmas picture, we should realize that Christ did not wait for the perfect picture Himself. Instead, He came into a lonely manger, in a forgotten corner of the world. From this point forward, all forgotten corners and bad situations will not be good enough for His presence. This Christmas season I hope we all make room for the real and living presence of the One who first came long ago. It will be worth it.