It’s the end of the year
everyone around me is
feeling excited, joyful.
Christmas music is playing,
wreaths are being hung,
the stupid elf is back on the shelf.
Not in my house!
I used to wonder why I
felt empty in the last month of the year.
I know who I am now.
I feel put upon to decorate!
I feel sorry for trees being cut down!
I feel sorry for the turkey!
But those aren’t the reasons.
I don’t like Christmas because
joy doesn’t only come in the last 4 weeks of the year,
happiness doesn’t come in a wrapped box,
Jesus isn’t Santa Claus
But that’s just the start.
I dislike what Christmas has become.
A self-centered circus to please ourselves
when it should be a celebration of God
coming to us as love.
What does the birth of baby mean to me?
The image of a God being born as a poor child
means we are to love the poor,
care for those who do not have enough.
Oh, there’s more.
The child image tells us to love children
not just the rich, the healthy, or the perfect,
but the poor, the sick, those not like us.
So, who are those children?
The child born to a despised race
means we are to love the immigrant,
the stranger, the culturally different.
So, the prophets told me what to do.
Do justice: stand up for those being abused,
Love kindness: feed and clothe the hungry,
give freely of your abundance
Walk humbly with your God: remember whose you are.
do what is right in the eyes of the great Divine.
So, who am I?
I am the one who chooses life
I am the one who listens
I am the one who gives back as much as I receive
I will listen to the prophets and the lessons of The Carpenter
I do it all year long not just in the last 4 weeks of the year.
This is who I am.
Ruth Jewell, ©December 4, 2020