Jesus Christ Blog

Good is the flesh that the Word has become
good is the birthing, the milk in the breast,
good is the feeding, caressing and rest,
good is the body for knowing the world,
Good is the flesh that the Word has become.

One of the hardest things about the holidays is going through them without loved ones who have passed on. The pain cuts deeper this time of year. One way of dealing with this pain is to hold onto good memories. Repeat them to your children. Turn stories into memorial stones that can be told and retold, and passed on to other generations.

And there are other kinds of pain as well – pain from the loss of a not-so-loved one. Someone who may have caused pain in life and their absence is more the pain of what could have been – what should have been, but wasn’t. For those who feel they have been in any way a victim of abusive parents, gratitude is what is called for at this time.

Gratitude? Thank you for hurting me? Actually, it’s the only way out.

Whatever evil and lack these may have unleashed on the world, they took the gamble of life, brought you into existence, and perhaps did one or two other things toward sending you alive into the future. If we loathe our lives and ourselves, then we will loathe them — and if we loathe them we are loathing ourselves. If we stop the cycle, then what remains is what remains. Here we are, there they are (or were), and to be alive is something. A root gratitude for existing is necessary for anything Good to happen to anyone. At the end of a certain process, it is nearly inevitable. Not perhaps grounds for throwing a party, but sufficient to toast to their life.

So like Bob Cratchit toasting the hated Ebenezer Scrooge, much to the chagrin of his wife, we will reserve a place in our Christmas feast for those in our lives, present and past, who have hurt us and/or helped us, for they are all a part of who we are.

Gratitude is a healer. Let it heal your memories and yourself in the process.

“In everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18)

Last year, I do not think Santa was the least bit upset with my pretty daughter on one knee, but I’m sure he could have done without Christopher and Chandler teetering on the other. Santa was indeed huffing and puffing after this visit.

We all gave a “Merry Christmas” wave to the right jolly old elf as we picked up our family portrait with a flummoxed Santa and headed out for a festive feast at our favorite restaurant. But Chandler pulled Marti back and whispered in her ear, “That was not the real Santa — only a helper. You can tell by the boots. But don’t tell Christopher or Anne. They would be brokenhearted.”

Ah, the wisdom of an eight-year-old! His older brother and sister simply can’t know this was not the real Santa. They would be crushed.

The cynic has to destroy belief. The literalist has to tell everything (which sometimes accomplishes the same thing). The believer trusts in the power of what he believes to stand on its own so he doesn’t have to tell everything. The believer doesn’t have to correct every wrong or point out every right. Knowing the answer doesn’t mean you always tell it. Chandler chose not to divulge to Christopher and Anne what he knew about the Santa “helper” because it would not have served them well. In his mind, their belief was much better and would lead them to the truth.

When our children were younger, I miffed numerous attempts my wife had designed to draw them out with rhetorical questions by jumping in with the answer right away. I was like a child myself, going, “I know, I know! Pick me!” I couldn’t stand the fact that I knew the answer and couldn’t say it.

But people need to make their own discoveries. Don’t let what you know interfere with someone else’s process. They may not be ready for what you know. Besides, we don’t – any one of us – make anyone see. Only God does that.

And when you see Santa this year, be sure and check out his boots. They tell the whole story.