Christmas Past

Blow the trumpet at the new moon, At the full moon, on our feast-day. For it is a statute for Israel, An ordinance of the God of Jacob. - Psalms 81:3-4 ASV

And the days of feasting were accomplished, that many were delivered unto much food and merriment and found themselves wrapped in self-satisfaction and lying upon the sofas. Now that the holidays are over, here is some reflection upon our Christmas past from my sofa.

Feasting is Biblical. We regularly remind ourselves of this in the Nordmoe household at such times as Christmas when we sit before a rich and sumptuous table lest we be accosted with guilt by our enemy. In Exodus 23, the children of Israel were commanded to keep a feast unto the Lord three times a year: the feast of unleavened bread, the feast of the harvest, and the Passover supper. What a God we serve that calls us to enjoy times of feasting before Him as well as times of fasting and penance. He is the Lord of the banquet and His table must be filled. What better way to celebrate the birth of Jesus than with gift giving and feasting. It is entirely appropriate.

The giving of gifts is always a challenge for me personally as I am rather feckless at finding some imaginative gift, especially for those closest to me. I have a bent for the unconventional, but that demands creative thinking. Work! Shopping would be far easier if I could just conform and bring home the usual perfume and slippers. But gift giving in general is a challenge for us simply because we are Americans. We are awash in stuff as it is and have need of little. But we nevertheless manage to find something to buy and lavish on one another in ever-increasing quantities. The monkish, spoil-sport part of me wants to say, “Enough! We are surfeited to the point of bloat.” But the party-side of me wants to say, “Let there be joy, blessing, and even excess if it celebrates the greatest gift of all.” God was lavish beyond measure and to nit-pick puts me squarely with those naysayers who pointed out with scorn the woman pouring the expensive ointment on the head of the prophet from Nazareth.

All that said, I noted a few gifts this season that I thought were special. One was a card telling me that a gift had been given to a worthy charity in my honor. That is a blessing we could all celebrate. I could have had a gift card to Starbucks or something, but instead I had the knowledge that my name followed a gift to someone truly in need. That may not work for everyone on your list, but I liked it.

Another family I heard about was very creative even though they were very affluent. Every Christmas, the family adopted a particular goal that emphasized individual originality for parent and child alike. One Christmas, each person had to give one gift that was hand-made. Another year, each person had to put on a performance of some sort. This, to me, was a tremendous example of de-emphasizing the material and emphasizing the personal. I only wish we had done more of that when my children were small.

I had hoped to next review a book given to my grand-daughter, Taylor, this Christmas. I want to give it my Stocking Stuffer of the Year Award, but to try to do so here would not do it justice. You will just have to tune in next week. I am a hopeless romantic when it comes to childhood play, and this particular book awakened in me a desire to be a child all over again. It takes a lot to do that when I think of all the teen-age trauma I had to endure, but I was almost ready to endure it again just to transport back to age 8. To be continued.