Happy Holidays?

“So I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me, for all is vanity and a striving after wind.” Ecclesiastes 2:17

The holidays hit hard for some of us. Even as we see the Christmas lights go up on houses and we consume ads and movies that tell us to “believe in the magic of Christmas”, something thrums in our heart in a disharmonious way. We want to believe there is hope and joy (and a really cool present under the tree for us), but we struggle with the redux of spending money we don’t have and longing for things we can’t buy.

I have a squishy spot for sentimental movies, and I have been (over)indulging as of late. Last night I watched “The Spirit of Christmas”. While my husband made fun of the spirit (a ghost who is corporeal for 12 days a year), I settled in to see how Kate, a woman who has never been in love, would eradicate him from the inn he “possessed” so she could sell it and get promoted. Convoluted much? Yes, but it tickled all my squishy places so quit picking on me!

Most movies  like this present Christmas Day as the “happy ever after” moment. In fact, there was a moment in this flick that hinted we might not get one, and the heroine would have to wait until the next (or even the next!) Christmas to solve the mystery. I’m glad that didn’t happen because it would have been very tedious. The lingering question I had after credits rolled was, “What happens the day AFTER Christmas?”

Back in the real world, I had to get up for work this morning. My son was sick and couldn’t go to school today. After solving that situation, I hopped in my car and started to drive to work. I thought of my friend whose husband is battling a mysterious disease, another friend who lost her best childhood friend to Covid, and another friend whose work situation is dehumanizing at best. I thought of my own workload and insecurities around not performing well and started to feel down. Because while all of these difficult situations swirl around me, there are Christmas lights twinkling and music playing. And I want to slap Bing Crosby. (Too bad he’s already dead.)

Cabbage Patch Doll (Photo by ¬ù¬ù Jacques M. Chenet/CORBIS/Corbis via Getty Images)

While driving, I began to think, “what so special about Christmas anyway?” Is it the presents? Not really. Not as an adult. The last really awesome gift I got that made an impact on my psyche was the guinea pig under the tree in the early 80’s (back when I still believed in Santa Claus). Or was it the unicorn my mother hand-made in the late 80’s? It sure wasn’t the Cabbage patch doll my grandmother made for me when I was 11 (what girl wanted a homemade knock off instead of the real thing?) Although I have to admit, I wish I still had it now that she’s gone. In fact, all of those things are gone. Ash. Dust. Fodder for landfills. One could say the magic of Christmas past is… dead.

Ecclesiastes uses the word “vanity” instead of “meaningless”. In chapter two the preacher discusses the vanity of pleasure and of wisdom. No matter how beautiful and wonderful pleasures of all varieties are, they are meaningless. Everything dies and turns to dust. No matter how wise or foolish people are, they all die.

“I hated all my toil in which I toil under the sun, seeing that I must leave it to the man who will come after me, and who knows whether he will be wise or a fool? Yet he will be master of all for which I toiled and used my wisdom under the sun. This also is vanity.” Ecclesiastes 2:18-19

Wouldn’t that be an interesting Christmas card? “Merry Christmas, Worm Food.”

How about, “Congratulations on your nuptials, here’s the receipt in case you get divorced.”

Or better yet, “Blessings on your pending adoption, hope the baby doesn’t get repossessed!” (This actually happened to a friend of mine.)

But let’s sing a happy holiday song, “While the merry bells are ringing, happy holidays to you!”

Somebody poke that guy in the eye already!

Now maybe the dear reader thinks I’ve turned “jolly green Grinch”, but that’s certainly not true. Why else would I be binge-watching Hallmark Channel movies? I want to “recapture the wonder” of my childhood Christmases, but the more I think about it, the more I realize the “holiday spirit” is just nostalgia repackaged and offered up for sale. We are trying to buy and sell a feeling. And I’ll be very candid here: it’s all just a very expensive lie.

Oh boy! Now she went and did it. Margaret spilled curdled milk all over the Christmas tablecloth. Send her to the woodshed for 10 lashings. Better yet, lock the door and throw away the key. No fruit cake for her!

So, since I’ve been consigned to the woodshed, I’ll digress a little bit… This is exactly why I love the bible. It cuts through the crap. So many people think it’s full of mystical mumbo jumbo, but it’s not. It really is the greatest story every told. We have so perverted the Christmas story with our cultural traditions that people are willing to throw it on the rubbish heap. But for those who are hurting—who are suffering—who are aching for there to be more—they will find hope in its pages. And the hope is this: there is a creator who sees our broken hearts. He was sitting in the throne room of heaven and said, “how can I save them? Who can I send?” and Jesus said, “Here I am. Send me. I’ll bind up their broken hearts and shine light into all of their dark places. I will bring justice and mercy. And love. I will show them what true love really is.”

Andrew Peterson captured the hope and joy of that love in his song, “High Noon”.

“Jesus took in that breath and shattered all death with his life.”

For those of us who grew up in the church and have heard the story a million times, we would do well to stop and consider: Jesus was dead and then he took a breath and was alive. Only God can do that! And without that truth, the Christian story is…at best…hollowed-out, disingenuous, and fake. It’s no better than the story of a fat old man climbing down chimneys to provide toys and treats—which most of the world knows is a big old lie – especially those children with hollowed-out bellies and no food to fill them. Or worse, mothers and wives whose arms are empty.

Without Jesus, Christmas is just nostalgia which quickly sours—like expired milk—on December 26^th.

There are those who will say the bible is full of fables. But the majority of people have never read it to assess for themselves whether or not it is true. And while I enjoy movies that tickle my squishy places (and make my husband crazy!) I love truth. Once one is awake to the truth, it’s hard to get caught up in the fantasy and make-believe world of the holidays. My whole life doesn’t hinge on that perfect gift, or providing the perfect experience for my children or grand children. I might make a nice dinner and express my love for my friends and neighbors, but I’m not going to freak out if the cookies get burned or they sell out of power rangers (now I’m really dating myself!).

So instead of getting down about the sad situations, I’m going to practice gratitude for the many many blessings God has given to me regardless of how tempted I am to complain about long lines and cranky customer service representatives. But most importantly, I’m going to tell my friends about Jesus, the founder and perfecter of my faith, who for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising its shame, and is seated at the right hand of the Father. (Hebrews 12) He has conquered the grave! He is alive!

I love the words of the preacher in Ecclesiastes because they remind me of the toil and hardship of life under the sun. The pain is real. Then, they draw my eyes to what is above the sun – namely God the Father – and the promises of life after death if I believe in His son.

May this Christmas draw your heart to everything that is good and lovely and pure and TRUE.