By David Breckenridge
For a lot of us, Christmas is about home. It’s about going home, if home is elsewhere. Its about others coming home, if home is here. It’s about reconnecting with those to whom we are connected — whether we like them all or not or whether it’s always comfortable or not.
And this point goes to more than just family, too. Business parties, club parties and Sunday school parties alike remind us that we are connected not just to the cashier or treasurer or teacher, but to a human being. We even seek to connect as a society and culture in community events. On top of all of this, if we are smart and we can find the time, we connect as well with those we truly want to be with and cherish and value. And if that group overlaps with some of the other groups in your life — your family and business associates, and such — well, then, you are doubly blessed.
But at its heart, experientially, I think Christmas is about celebrating and nurturing those connections. It’s a season where we relish the fact that, no matter how cold and dark it may get, we are not alone.
The need for such experience was illustrated several years ago when Saint Mary (Catholic) Cathedral in Austin, Texas, printed an advertisement simply using the words “Come Home for Christmas” over a silhouette of the cathedral. They placed it in both the popular and alternative local press. No name, no phone number, no service times, no website address.
The cathedral was overwhelmed by the response. They had to add services.
All of that may sound like so much sentimental psychobabble, but it’s actually well-rooted in the Bible and in historic Christian and Jewish theology. It’s why many times the Old Testament lessons for this season come from the time of the ancient Israelites’ Exile. They are the record of the children of Israel yearning for home.
And then of course there is the whole Christ-event itself. For what does the incarnation mean if it doesn’t mean Emmanuel (literally, “God with us” in Hebrew)? It signifies that God in Christ was willing to leave everything to come and be with you, with me. It means that that connection was worth everything — that that connection is worth everything.
This season is about the miracle that, despite whether or not we have many other connections here on Earth, we are not alone.
Let me say that again: We are not alone. God is with us. You are not alone. God is with you. Even if you are stranded on a deserted island, you are not alone. God is with you. This season is about the fact that God really was and is “pleased with man to dwell” — pleased with you to dwell.
That’s what Advent and Christmas are about. But the season is about more than that, too. It’s about the fact that God is pleased with everyone to dwell. It’s about us asking the hard questions: “What sort of conduit am I, is my church, is my family? How well do we facilitate the connection of God with others who are seeking — who are trying to get home?”
In Traveling Mercies, Anne Lamott tells the story of a young girl who is lost in a big city. She doesn’t know her address, and the officer has to drive her around –hoping that, by sheer trial and error, they will stumble upon her home. They drive around for quite awhile, when all of a sudden, the girl points and says, “There, there — you can let me out there!”
The officer says, “Are you sure? That doesn’t look like a house?”
“No, it’s not,” says the girl. “It’s my church, but I can always find my way home from there.”
I pray this season that you make it home — that you connect with God, others and self as never before. I pray that you realize, down deep inside, that you are not alone — that God is with you. But may you also become aware of those who need to know that great truth. May you be emboldened to connect and invite and welcome and share this good news in word and deed with all whom you meet this season.
Merry Christmas, everyone!