Neighborhood Christmas and Other Seasonal Thoughts

Our neighbors and their families joined us last weekend for an informal, taco night Christmas gathering. I believe a great time was had by all. The kids banged on the piano and one crawled into the dog’s bed to curl up with Stella and there were impromptu trombone duets and noise and board games at the dining room table and conversations about college planning with the high school senior. I suspect the Moms and Dads put the fear of God into the kids about going to the one house on the street which was not child-proofed, but my husband and I totally enjoyed the chaos.

For someone who grew up in a family where Christmas was a Sacred Tradition complete with silver and crystal on the dining room table and my grandmother and aunt wearing jewel-bedecked velvet dresses, I am finding an outside-the-box Christmas just what the doctor ordered this year. (Although, I still insist on live trees and high church midnight Christmas Eve services. Once in Royal David’s City is simply non-negotiable.)

Family members who usually visit us for Christmas dinner are traveling in Europe, so we’re hosting a few friends for ham sandwiches, soup, and salad late in the afternoon Christmas Day. And it’s all good. Life changes. To be able to stay up late to usher in the birth of the Christ Child and not have to prepare an event dinner the next day offers breathing space and a chance to catch up with old friends in a relaxed setting.

We are bombarded with expectations at this time of the year to the point that it can become overwhelming. Of course, we miss those beloved family members who used to gather at our table who we now remember with wreaths on their graves. But it’s ok to change it up, and yes, even set aside long-standing traditions that are no longer meaningful. Or practical. None of us lives in a Hallmark movie. This year, especially, I know of so many who are carrying terrible burdens and sadness, made even harder by the commercialism and ridiculous portrayal of what the holiday “should be” by those who seek to profit from it.  

For the last six months, my husband and I have been delivering meals to shut-ins. It requires minimal effort on our part-- a morning or two of driving each month. These folks greet us with gratitude and kindness, (one of them recently offered to pay for our gas) even as we recoil at the conditions in which many of them live. That experience has changed my perspective about what really matters. There is an exquisite grace to be found in a humble meal served in a paper tray that far exceeds the finest of holiday dinners.

So as we once again enter into this season of finding light in the darkness, I wish you the best of celebrations, whatever that looks like for you. I also wish for you the thought expressed in the title of a piece we’ve sung with our choir this season.

 “Let the stable still astonish.”