3 mins
Christmas Pilgrims
The Very Rev Albert Bogle considers the bitter-sweetness of a changing Christmas.
Photo: iStock
CHRISTMAS changes each year for all of us, mainly because life changes.
We change, our families change and the church team around us changes. I think what I’m trying to say is there is a bitter sweet feeling of sorrow and joy that comes over all of us at this time of the year. We love the warm glow of an open fire, the smell of the pine needles from the Christmas tree and the little traditions of love and grace each family creates – but it’s oh so bitter when change steals these familiar signposts of home turning them into memories of what once was.
It’s then we realise we have no fixed abode in this world, all things must pass.
I understand some things don’t change – like the canned music playing in the background of shopping malls. The damp cold winter mornings, with a host of flickering Christmas lights in the windows of our housing estates, as cars and buses act like alarm clocks telling us it’s time to waken up. The struggle in the evening to buy something meaningful for a loved one as you fire up the iPad one more time to find that elusive gift. It’s all there adding to the stress of the season. It’s further complicated for many this year as they will try and manage working in the hybrid zone between home and a designated work space and keep family life sacred. So how can we hold on to that feeling of Christmas that helps us recognise Joy while acknowledging the sorrow that still clings to all that continues to be precious and dear to us coming out of a pandemic that has robbed us of people, places and our confidence?
There is a principle that has guided me all through my ministry and it has helped me cope with change and bring in changes and be less stressed about what needs to be done at any particular time. It is a simple one – make the best of what you have and what has been given to you and don’t live out of past memories. Honour them by all means, but live in the joy of this moment of time. It doesn’t mean you settle for less. It means you keep your eyes and ears open to recognise the gifts and experiences that have been given to you at this point in your life and use them to serve others.
I think this principle still holds when coming out of a pandemic. It is when we stop looking down that we begin to see rainbows – and opportunities of service.
Learning to live with and embrace the changes can in itself be a liberating experience. So much of what we do at Christmas has been passed down to us by others. Others who had a gift for this or that particular thing. Now, if they no longer are around, it is tempting to carry on the tradition or to allow yourself, if I am to use an analogy from childhood, to become ‘het’, left to do the chasing after others to make the game work. Perhaps it’s time to play another game.
Learning to let the generosity of giving and receiving come for a wider group of people ensures all sorts of things happen that never would if it was left to the same person organising everything the same way as in the past. Christmas offers us an opportunity to be thankful for our homes and families and for the knowledge that new traditions can help shape a present and future home coming. Advent invites us to make the preparations to accept change. To make space for others to look for the ‘unexpected visitor’ to start living in the place of wonder and expectation. To realise we are pilgrims with no real fixed abode even when it comes to Christmas and perhaps more so.
This article appears in the December 2021 Issue of Life and Work
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This article appears in the December 2021 Issue of Life and Work