A Christmas Like No Other
The Christmas tree stands before me as I write, plaid ribbons, white lights, a few shiny red and silver balls.
Stockings hang from the mantle, a colorful ceramic nativity set made by Dan’s aunt sits on a large wood desk nearby.
The amalgamation of various and sundry ornaments from four decades past remains tucked away this year.
Underneath the tree, a dozen brightly colored bags with stripes and snowflakes and a smiling penguin with a hat.
The bags are empty.
A new celebration
This year we will not be exchanging gifts. Instead, my husband and I are giving to charities chosen by our four daughters.
We will not be gathering in this room after a Christmas breakfast feast.
There will be no piles of paper wrap and bows, some torn, ripped from the box, some neatly folded for reuse.
There will be no cramming into the car and setting out to view the tacky lights that Richmond is famous for.
No singing carols in a sanctuary filled with red and white poinsettias, no gazing at a candle flame as “Silent Night” is sung. No “Joy to the World” proclaimed in chorus at the stroke of midnight, Christmas Eve.
My brothers and their wives are not coming from out of state, bringing fluffy canine comfort with them.
Our Walker family gathering took place last Sunday over Zoom.
We will Zoom with our West Coast daughter and her partner on Christmas Day. The other three daughters will each drive to Richmond with their husband, fiancee or roommate. We will gather for a socially-distant visit around a fire outdoors.
This Christmas I’m less rushed and hurried. There is not as much to do.
This is my third Christmas without a church. No longer pastoring, I spend my days writing, in prayer and thought, and walking here out in the country where we live.
Christmas prayers
This Christmas season, I pray for frontline workers, in medicine and service industries. I pray for those in isolation from loved ones they long to see. I pray for those facing eviction, unable to pay their bills. I pray for those with decision making power to help those in great need.
I pray for those who grieve around the world, the numbers unfathomable to me. I pray for scientists and doctors, those involved with vaccine logistics, distribution, and injection. I pray for healing of broken hearts, divided minds and victims of injustice. I pray for the advent of lovingkindness here on earth, as it is in the realm beyond.
The loving way
The three Abrahamic faiths, Christians, Jews and Muslims, have observed pandemic holy days this year, adjusting our ways of worship. Hindus, Sikhs and Jains and Buddhists celebrated Diwali in a new light.
The loving way is not to gather, not to sing, not to join in person for our sacred rites.
The loving way puts the needs of others before ourselves. Our actions can preserve life or lead to sickness and even death.
The first Christmas was like no other, the holy family in a stable, by themselves. No one else was there to witness starlight sparkling in newborn eyes.
This a Christmas to remember what the baby Jesus will grow up to say and do.
He will heal, call out injustice and show us how to love. He will give his life for others and show that death does not have the final word. He sends us now to be his resurrected presence in the world.
May you feel God’s loving arms enfold you, in this season.
May you know God’s present peace.
May you let go and rest in knowing you are loved.
Love comes from God and lives within us; as we love, divine love is made complete.
1 John 4:7, 12