It's funny how the seasons treat us. The month of April brings me a feeling of loss and detachment from myself. At first I had a hard time identifying it until my wife said, "I know why you're so moody this time of year. It's the month your dad died."
Her words touched me to the very depths of my soul. She was right. My dad died in 1975 and, ever since then, the anniversary of his death sneaks up on me. I will never forget that year, 32 years ago, when I tried to skip Christmas. Neither my mom nor I wanted to celebrate Christmas after losing my dad. So, each of us, in our own way decided to just skip it - until Christmas Eve. We just couldn't go through with it and I wound up at her door with a tree just about the time she was hauling out the Christmas ornaments. It turned into a very different, yet very meaningful Christmas. Every year when I think of that Christmas, I am reminded that Christmas, as our culture celebrates it, leaves out at least two groups of people.
First are those for whom the season brings difficult feelings. Anniversaries of personal tragedy are as likely at Christmas as any other time of year. I wish my kids could have known their grandparents on my side of the family, yet it was not to be. They do, however, know their love. Every year we have placed ornaments on the tree that hung on my family's tree, and every year we have heard the stories of those ornaments and of the generations that had held them. That's part of Christmas. Remembering and connecting across the years. And it's important to recognize that for too many the memories and feelings I have every April come during December.
Another group that feels somewhat estranged by our cultural Christmas is people of faith. The commercialism and consumerism of the holiday simply turns us off, and it should. Christmas is not about spending money we don't have to buy things we don't need to please an ideal we can never attain.
Simplifying Christmas has become a watchword for me, and though it may seem difficult at first, it can be very rewarding in the end. Simplifying doesn't mean ignoring the traditions or throwing away all the decorations. I love the lights and the lawns at Christmas. Simplifying means to step back and assess where your heart lies. The best gifts are not the largest or the most expensive. The best gift is having family close and celebrating the gift each person is to you. Gathering with friends is another best gift and traveling far distances to bring gifts began, after all, with the Magi who brought gold, frankincense and myrrh to Jesus.
And, for all who are estranged from Christmas, whether painfully reminded of days never to be or simply put off by the deluge of holiday stress, remember Christmas is ultimately about how God chose to be revealed to us. To span the valleys of sorrow that tend to dampen our mood and to remind us of the folly of trying to live up to some elusive expectation.
Come, join the rest of us this Christmas, for these words are really addressed to all of us. May you receive the very best gift of all this Christmas: the true blessing of God's healing grace. By the way, my very favorite time of worship is 11 p.m. to midnight Christmas Eve. See you there.
-- Pastor Pete Nelson of Carson Valley United Methodist Church is a member of Carson Valley Ministers' Association.
