A Season of Hope

Original Photo by Cecilia Marie Pulliam

These frosty, misty mornings of December fit the season, a tradition for Christmas in the Northern Hemisphere. Who doesn’t love Norman Rockwell’s renderings of Christmas? Images of family harmony, joy, peace, family gatherings, ladened tables, laughter, softly falling snow?

My family represented this vision for years until my husband passed away. His death fractured our family. We pulled away from those big, happy gatherings. My daughter was only sixteen. I tried for her sake to continue some of our traditions, changed slightly so they would not be reminders of what we had lost. My success was mixed, but the overall tone was a happy one.

After she left home, following her brothers with leaving the nest right after high school graduation, I followed new traditions.

Now, married again, with family strung around several cities and states, we have other traditions. We still decorate, although on a much smaller scale, but I cannot pass the season without a nativity, lighted garlands, and a small lighted tree, tabletop size, Christmas Carols and a fire in the fireplace. I’ll make my raspberry rolls to enjoy with coffee Christmas morning. Christmas Eve, instead of the boisterous family gathering at my folks’ place followed by Midnight Mass, my husband and I will join our neighbors for prime rib and good conversation.

The thread that runs through all of these traditions is the season’s message of hope. Everywhere we see joy and hope. The scripture readings are filled with hope of a peaceful, joyous world. The carols echo the same sentiments, peace on earth, joy to the world. We watch family favorite, happy Christmas movies.

The season is such a joyous one, even for those who do not celebrate the spiritual aspect. It is the time of year we give ourselves permission to be happy, and we pass that on to those around us. The salutations of Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays when we meet friends or strangers. We approach family gatherings with hope for peaceful, joyous interactions.

Then, in January, it seems this hope crashes back to pre-Advent attitudes, rushed, irritated, crushed by responsibilities and world issues.

Several years ago, I vowed to keep my Christmas hope and joy all year. For the most part, I did. Even during the dark moments, I clung to my hope of God’s presence, compassion, and care. Psalm 27 pops up in my devotions whenever I need the reminder that nothing is impossible with God. I only need to hang onto my faith until the sun rises again.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the protector of my life: of whom shall I be afraid? I believe to see the good things of the Lord in the land of the living. Expect the Lord, do manfully, and let thy heart take courage, and wait for the Lord.”

How about you? Have your Christmas traditions changed over the years, or stayed the same? 

There Ought to Be a Law

There probably is. There have been laws, society norms, and traditions dictating behavior from the first moment of human existence, and there have always been those who refused to follow the rules as indicated by the long list of criminals stretching back to Cain and Abel.

However, laws do give people the authority to remove offenders from their communities and eliminate some threats to their lives and property.

Still, people want more laws. They want to regulate every aspect of human behavior, defining speech, diets, shopping, what we can and cannot own, along with the bigger laws against theft and murder.  If a group thinks a behavior is wrong, they want a law. If another group opposes their agenda, they want a counter law. 

This even goes further. People rail against God for not stopping wars, famines, pestilences, natural disasters and the list goes on. They want him to act on our whims, our desires, our need for control, except when it comes to our personal behavior. Then we reject his laws because they interfere with our freedom of choice. What a bunch of hypocrites we are. 

We have all heard the quote, “There are over ten billion laws enacted to enforce the Ten Commandments,” and we still add more every day. 

A morning show host interviewed a woman campaigning for laws regulating what people can eat. She wanted a law making it illegal for people designated as overweight to purchase items not approved by her. I am not kidding.

The talk show host asked, “So how would you regulate this law? Put a set of scales at every checkout, and if it said you were overweight, the checker would remove the unlawful food from your cart?”

She replied, “Yes, that’s exactly what should happen, or have a card from your doctor dictating what food you can have and how much.”

“Isn’t that discrimination?”

“No, absolutely not. It’s for their benefit.”

“I see. So you’re better at determining what others need than they are.”

“Absolutely.”

Really? And where would this end?

Back to our opinion of what God should control. We too often think he should be like us, forcing everyone to act as we think is best. Thank goodness he isn’t like us.

This reminds me of a story about a monk who had a fruit tree. Concerned the weather wasn’t conducive to nurture his tree, he asked God to make it rain. When he deemed there had been enough, he asked for sunshine. After that, a touch of frost to strengthen it. Then more sunshine and so on. God complied.

Instead of thriving, his tree shriveled and appeared to be dying. He looked at the tree his fellow monk had planted, and it flourished with an abundance of sweet fruit.

“Why is your tree is doing so well and mine is dying? I asked God to send rain, sunshine, and frost.”

The other monk shrugged. “I asked God to send whatever it needed to be healthy, and left it up to him to decide how much and when.”

Then the first monk understood. He had no idea what the tree needed to thrive, but its Creator did.

The same with us. We meddle into things we should leave in God’s hands, and then ask God why he allowed such things to happen. Even science has acknowledged their attempts to regulate wildlife and habitat has often resulted in a horrific imbalance leading to more destruction. Humans trying to play God without his omniscience.  (Of course, we need to be good stewards, but there is a difference between being a good steward and trying to recreate what God has already created.)

What if we obeyed God’s commandments, and left the rest up to him? I imagine the world would be a lot different than it is now. 

“Jesus did not come to change the mind of God about humanity. He came to change the mind of humanity about God.” Fr. Richard Rohr, Immortal Diamond: The Search for Our True Self

Christmas Past, Present, and Future

This time of year means different things, depending on the person and their situation. My family focused on the religious aspect growing up. My parents wanted my sister and me to concentrate on Christmas Mass, and so we opened gifts Christmas Eve.

Later, with my own family, we changed that tradition to Midnight Mass Christmas Eve and opened presents on Christmas Day.

In later years, after the loss of my husband and with both sons out on their own, my daughter and I struggled to keep traditions. They brought a mixed set of emotions. The first year after my husband passed away, I waited too long to buy a tree. Not a single lot had a tree I could afford. I brought three accent trees home from the flower shop. They weren’t Christmas trees, more of a bonsai Sequoia. We laughed every time we looked at them, turning our melancholy joyful.  

After my daughter married and left home, Christmas became another holiday to endure with memories of what was. After my husband’s passing, we stopped the big family gatherings, the gift giving, and almost all the traditions. They were too painful those first few years.

I eventually remarried. My daughter and sons had families of their own and their own traditions. We still yearn for those remarkable Christmases of the past, those big joyous celebrations with twenty people for dinner, a whole department store wrapped under the tree, grandparents drinking coffee and watching the kids with their presents. Perhaps my children can recapture some of that with their families.

My holidays are much quieter, simpler, particularly Christmas. We exchange phone calls rather than gifts. I spend more time reflecting, meditating, praying. I am thankful for my husband and our quiet celebrations. Life changes and moves on.

My husband and I will share dinner with close friends and their family rather than try a large gathering with my family since snowy, icy roads, and long distances, prevent travel at Christmas. We did manage to all gather in my hometown this past Thanksgiving for the first time in ten years. With luck, it won’t be ten years before the next gathering, holiday or not.

I am acutely aware of how precious those times are. My parents won’t be with us much longer. My dad is eighty-seven, and my mother is eighty-two. My children are in their middle ages, and I’m counting decades I thought were a lot further away.

However, putting those thoughts aside, at the moment, snow is falling outside, covering everything in white. The fire is on, Christmas Carols are playing, a cup of coffee sets on the table next to me. My husband and I will put up our tree this afternoon even though no one will see it except us. We plan on a special Christmas Eve dinner for the two of us. I’ll attend Mass Christmas day alone. There will be the phone calls, the good wishes, and photos.

Melancholy doesn’t rule the season even though it does promote reminiscing. Contentment is the word I would choose, a slowing down from the hectic former years, a quiet time for reflection and praise-giving for past blessings, current blessings, and future blessings.

I hope your season is filled with peace and joy however you spend the holidays. If you are alone, my prayers are with you. Remember, we are never really alone. God is there in every situation, every season, every holiday.  

Merry Christmas.