Christmas - the story of His parents

I've come to a surprising realization about myself over the past couple of weeks, a realization that has really caused me to sit back and reorient my priorities. Fittingly, I would even call it an epiphany of sorts. Since Thanksgiving, I have realized that I am most definitely a Christmas person. Sure, Christmas is a special holiday for most Christians, and many non-Christians as well, but I have come to the conclusion that the importance of the holiday for me goes beyond many others. For me, Advent and Christmas have always been this mystical time of the year where reality truly becomes fantastic, where the ordinary world becomes extraordinary. Simply put, it's a time when the Incarnation bursts forth into daily life with the splendor and vigor it truly deserves.

The colors. The music. The lights. The trees. The presents. The wrapping paper. The cookies and treats. Since I was a little boy, all of these things have captured my imagination. All the beautiful trappings and pleasures of this time of the year stand as a reminder of the generosity and love of the Father. And, since my senses play perhaps an all too important part of my life, the pleasures of Christmas captivate me. I'm sure my wife Liz will tell you how different I've become. Normally, I'm the one to say "well, we have to think of the budget." However, during the past few weeks, my dear wife has found herself in that unexpected role, trying to rein in the Christmas-fueled frenzy of her husband. Now I say, "Are you sure we got him enough toys for Christmas?" To which my wife responds, "Honey, he's seven months old, he'll be happy with anything."

So, for the last few weeks we've been running hither, thither, and yon enjoying all the glories this time of year brings with itself. We've gone Christmas shopping together and stopped and gotten Starbucks holiday drinks. We've gone and picked out a Christmas tree and gotten it set up in the apartment. Liz has been to several Christmas parties, and I spent last Saturday attending the Army-Navy game with my aunt and cousins. We've had friends over and gone out with friends. We've been running, running, running in an attempt to enjoy all that Christmas has to offer.

And, in the process of criss-crossing the town of Front Royal a dozen times, I also realized that all this hustle and bustle could make me miss the story of Christmas, a tragedy that goes against being a Christmas person. The consistent sensational nature of Christmas can make us miss out on the most beautiful part of Christmas: the Person who laid in a manger, and then hung upon a Cross. All the pleasures and beauties of the season are there to remind us of this Person; they are meant to be a means by which our minds contemplate the Goodness that became man. Often, though, they become distractions because of our own weakness and unwillingness to transcend the material world.

It occurred to me, then, that if I'm going to celebrate Christmas properly I have to find a way to focus on the story that's being told, and what better way to take interest in a Child's birth than to ask the parents about it. One of the most unique and beautiful things about Christmas is that the actors in this story are all people we can know. With a fictional story, we are merely third party observers looking down on a world that will never see us, but with Christmas, we are continually told the story by those who were there.

Mary and Joseph can tell us of the trepidation of being refused at the door of the inn. They can share with us the hope and trust they had in God as they wandered through the dark night searching for a place to bring this Child into the world. They can describe to us the humbling experience of finally settling down next to animals in a manger, recognizing that God had already humbled Himself far greater in taking on human nature. And finally they can relate to us the joy of hearing that Babe cry, seeing His eyes for the first time, holding Love Himself in their arms as angels sang and shepherds watched. Most importantly, we can be sure that Mary and Joseph want to tell us these things. Like many parents I've met, they are eager to share the story of when their lives became so enriched, and they are only waiting for ears willing to listen.

As we run around during the next week and prepare for the big day, let us recognize all the opportunities we have to listen to these paradigms of motherhood and fatherhood. As we search for those perfect presents, which are opportunities to show our love, let us think of the parents of Jesus lovingly searching for a place in which their son could be born. As we travel to be with family, let us think of Joseph and Mary traveling for the census. And as we enjoy all the presents and treats that will greet us as the time draws near, let us think of the joy Mary and Joseph experienced upon receiving God's Present to them and to ourselves. No matter what happens, let's not forget to listen to the story these holy parents have to share.