The Christmas season has officially hit the Ojai Valley. Tree lighting ceremonies have taken place in Ojai and Oak View and carols have already begun to lighten the air. There is a large nativity setting at the “Y” that will soon be fully animated with live participants in costume. Holiday party invitations and greeting cards have commenced to flood the post office. Children’s choirs are learning their songs. Wish lists are conspicuously left on kitchen tables while parents and grandparents are online scrutinizing their account balances. In my own family, “Nutcracker” mania has hit as my house full of performers practice their steps. And at every turn, the Grinch seems to lurch over our shoulders attempting to steal the moment, and the meaning of Christmas.
Almost everyone I know is under the weight of pressure right now; even the kids. Tough economic times have many families struggling. And sickness and death don’t give any reprieve due to the yuletide season either. For some, loneliness is par for the course in December. And it happens to be semester finals week so, for many, there is no place to pronounce “Joy to the World” until after the exams are over. Pre-calculus, astronomy, biology, geometry, Spanish, English, the list of things to be studied in a household our size seems endless. On the positive side, I get to relearn everything I missed or forgot from the first time through school. We want to finish putting up the lights on the house but there is too much to do. And the older the kids get, the higher the stakes, and the more critical success becomes. Every parent who has ever been in the pre-college process will relate to me on this. And yet the goal is to not lose perspective and keep Christ at the center of Christmas.
Part of the problem, however, might be in our sanitized celebration of the Holy Day. While I love Disneyland and its effervescent, twinkly and sparkly presentation, it bears little resemblance to the real night worthy of remembrance. It might be encouraging for some to know that the events of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem could be described as mayhem and pandemonium. Think about it. The Romans invoked a tax and a deadline for it to be paid. In those days, one had to travel to the city of their family roots to record that it is officially paid. There was no lodging due to the overwhelming number of people forced to show up and make their contribution to their overlords. One would never travel this harsh
terrain at nine months pregnant unless facing a dire cutoff date. The shelter they found was stinky, cold and unhygienic. It would be a grave disappointment in an already distressing and dysfunctional scenario. And it was the birthplace of the savior of the world.
Maybe you’re feeling overwhelmed right now trying to fit it all in. For you, fighting mall traffic sounds favorable to what you’re facing this week and you’re wrestling with resentment. It might be that your dreams of a white Christmas are a bit too bright and polished and you may find it helpful to put some dirt back on Christmas. A recent trip to Israel produced a poignant reminder to me of the real Bethlehem. It may be a good idea for you to squeeze an hour out to reflect on the Prince of Peace, open your Bible and read the story now. The humble and rudimentary conditions of the “not-so grand entrance” of the only begotten Son of God was no accident; it was divinely orchestrated in heaven. But why? The answer to that question changes everything.