The "I Don't Care" of Christmas

This is a follow-up to another post I recently wrote. Enjoy!

So apparently there's this big holiday coming up. People are getting excited, and for some reason, extra mushy-gushy. Something about presents, a tree, and some other nonsense. Yada, yada, yada.

Is there any chance that this echoes how you feel around this time of the year?

If so, you're not alone.

Every year around this time, I get a little (read: very) cynical. Frankly, I stop caring about Christmas.

Say whaaaaaaaaat?!

Yeah, I know. I'm not a good American. Or Christian. Or both. Something like that. Feel free to stone me, if you please. But hear me out before you do.

I'm so fed up with everything about Christmas. This post should have made that clear enough. It celebrates everything I hate about America. Our materialism. Our self-centeredness. Our excessive wealth.

More than that, though, it celebrates a fundamental truth about each and every one of us: there's an emptiness inside of us that needs to be filled. We each recognize it to some extent and go to extravagant measures to fill it. Sadly, all the stuff in the world can't patch the crater that exists in our souls.

Sure, some of us think that "Jesus is the reason for the season." If that's really the case, why don't we show that? Christmas season lasts about a month, and yet we only dedicate a few hours of that month to "the reason" for it. Sounds like a big, fat lie to me.

Instead, we dedicate hundreds of hours to shopping, wrapping, and opening presents. The culmination of it all comes Christmas morning around the Christmas tree as we try our hardest to top the "magical" feeling we had the year before. Really, though, we're just looking to get more stuff than the year before, and if we don't, it's a "bad" Christmas.

None of it makes sense.

As I've thought about this, I've wondered what I can do to rekindle the true meaning of Christmas, even for a moment. I've submitted to the fact that, by myself, I can't make Christmas about what it truly should be. And it may never mean what it should. However, I have found that if I can claim moments of Christmas for what it should be, that must be better than nothing.

So I remember...

I remember the silence - the hundreds of years before Jesus' birth when everyone thought God had died.

I remember the pain - a teenage girl giving birth in a barn.

I remember the hopelessness - a child born at the worst possible time.

But I also remember...

God speaking. Not through word, but in action. Instead of just saying, "I'm still here," He came.

The healing. A broken family, united in love by a child.

The hope. A savior, born to bear the sins of the world, to give us a second chance at life.

And so, like Mary, I treasure these things. 

In a world of broken busyness and extravagant excess, I remember that I have a father who was willing to sacrifice everything for me, and not so I could spend my time giving people stuff they don't need.

People need to hear God's voice. People need to be healed. People need a new hope.

People need Christmas.

I need Christmas.

And though you don't care about it, maybe you do too.

... ... ...

Questions: Do you care about Christmas? What is your favorite part about the holiday? What can you do to enjoy Christmas more?