But the reality of our post-holiday time is often exhaustion, or even illness - my husband is suffering with some bug or other - and their accompanying let-down. We also had empty chairs around our table, chairs that once were filled by loved ones who've died, and loved ones who weren't with us because of illness. A new year, 2017, has entered our world - and our response may or may not be joyful optimism. Many of us ask - will we be blessed with health and success, or more illness and misery?
In reflecting on our holiday experience, instead of concentrating on supposed successes and failures, or on those who were or were not present, it's good to concentrate on the ways God was present with us, the times we allowed Him entrance to our lives. And - in spite of our occasional failures to acknowledge Him - God is always with us, even when He is hidden, as He hid Himself in the straw of the manger when others did not allow Him entrance to their homes. God, lying hidden in the manger, now those simple, perhaps unpromising, occasions in our lives, is still saving the world - and us - through Love.
Yet, in spite of believing in the power of our humble, hidden God, we doubt. When the magic and lights, sweet cookies and eggnog, are gone, once again, with a sigh, we pick up the work week, bills, exasperations, worries, and burdens. Exhausted, we ask ourselves, "Did Christmas really make a difference?" When I think back, I'm filled with a huge yearning for those people who have come and gone, for the moments of peace and harmony that reigned instead of arguments, for that ball dropping and the hope of 2017 when instead the world looks darker and more frightening, more greedy and war-filled than ever before. When the poor and hungry and homeless and jobless fill our cities and coutrysides, and refugees from war clamor at our gates.
When tiredness and post-holiday depression assail me, I keep thinking of the Book of Daniel, chapter 3, the historical novel depicting three young men whom the pagan king orders to be cast in the fiery furnace for refusing to worship a golden idol instead of the one, true God. My life, my country's life, the lives of those in war-torn countries, and the lives of those being martyred today, seem a fiery furnace of suffering. In the furnace the three cry out in prayer, words not just for themselves but for their countrymen. Their words could be on my lips, as I think of my life, my country, my world, all those who suffer and/or have turned from God:
"We have sinned and transgressed by departing from You....You have handed us over to our enemies, lawless and hateful rebels....For Your Name's sake, do not deliver us up forever, do not take away Your mercy from us....we are reduced oh Lord beyond any other nation......But with contrite heart and humble spirit, let us be received....So let our sacrifice be in Your Presence this day as we follow You unreservedly; for those Who trust in You cannot be put to shame." And these ringing words of trust: "If our God, whom we serve, can save us from the white-hot furnace, may He save us! But, even if He will not, know, oh King, that we will not worship your god, or worship the golden statue which you have set up."
When my life and the world's life seem a fiery furnace of illness, anxiety, and pain, I ask myself in sadness "Did Christmas really make a difference?" I have to choose my response to that question as those brave young men had to choose.
Do I worship the current evil, destructive false gods of money, arrogance, possessions, success, power, lying, calumny, super-competitiveness, instant gratification, cynicism, soul-killing hopelessness and despair -
- or can I embrace holy simplicity and thankfulness? Can I repeat those brave words "If my God, whom I serve, can save me and mine and this whole world from the white-hot furnace, may He save us! But if He will not, I will not worship false gods."
Sometimes God saves us quickly from the fiery furnace. Other times, we suffer for long, agonizing periods. Can we recognize that God has the power to save, and that He chooses to do what is best for us? That in addition to being God the Almighty, that, in Jesus, God is God the All-Vulnerable? So humble, so human, so holy? That this vulnerable, hidden God came for each of us, and will eventually triumph, not only in history, but in each individual life? Before Him, every knee shall bend....
"A little child is born for us today; little yet called the Mighty God."
Jesus, like the three young men, chose the fiery furnace of death on a cross. The Road to Bethlehem is ultimately the Way of the Cross. Yet - the three young men were released from the furnace. The Way of the Cross is ultimately the Road to Freedom from the fiery furnace of death to the cooling breeze of the Resurrection.
To believe that Christmas makes a difference is to believe that our daily crucifixions, those "daily deaths," and the world's daily crucifixions always ultimately end in resurrections. If we think back upon our Christmas holidays, we can reflect on what author Louise Penny calls "household miracles."
- I think of an emotionally ill grand-daughter and her shining eyes when she came up to me to show me that she was wearing the snow-flake earrings I'd given her.
- I think of the long-time friend who told me that the wild, confused niece that she'd taken in over twenty years ago is about to be happily married, and that the girl's father, an ex-con and one-time addict, is now an honored Professor.
- I think of my widowed daughter-in-law and her new husband beginning to fit quietly and seamlessly into our family relationships.
- I think of a daughter-in-law in great pain continuing to be courageous and keeping a fighting spirit in confronting her Doctors and asking for help.
- I think of my whole family, of all my friends, and the humble, quiet and continual rain of grace into our thirsty souls, grace that gives us hope, light, courage, and love.
Fr. Richard Rohr tells us
"In her famous thirteenth showing, Julian of Norwich (1342 - 1416) asked Jesus, 'In fear and trembling, 'O good Lord, how can all be well when great harm has come to your creatures through sin?' And here I wanted, if I dared, to have some clearer explanation to put my mind to rest. And He said, 'Since I have brought good out of the worst-ever evil, I want you to know by this; that I shall bring good out of all lesser evils too." (Julian of Norwich, "Revelations of Divine Love," Showing 13, chapter 29.)
Rohr reflects on this teaching's world-wide ramifications:
"Could God's love really be that great and that universal? Is life just a great school of love? I believe it is. Love is the lesson, and God's love is so great that God will finally teach it to all of us. We'll finally surrender, and God will win in the end. That will be God's 'justice,' which will swallow up our lesser versions. God - Love - does not lose! That is what it means to be God." (adapted from Richard Rohr's "Everything Belongs."
Christmas matters. We can hold memories of our holiday gatherings in our hearts and ponder them, as Mary pondered memories of her Child. Because her little Babe was present with us, and showed us the everlasting power of His love in our lives. The Babe in the Manger shows us that God is not just All-Mighty, but that God is also All-Vulnerable Love, who understands our humanness, our joys and our sufferings. The Way to Bethlehem leads to the Cross for him, and also for us. But the cross leads to the resurrection. And, even in this world, God, Love, will win in the end.
Because - winning all of us to His own great joyful, peaceful Heart, a heart which once beat in a manger, is what God is all about.