Simplicity

For many years I became depressed during the holidays. At a time when many seemed merry and bright, I felt sad and alone, as if the message of Christmas hadn’t quite reached me. Often, I felt like a Yuletide Sisyphus, trying to push a gigantic snowball up a wintery hill only to have it roll back down just as I was on the verge of experiencing joy. To be fair, I usually felt more of the Christmas spirit after the holiday was over. That said, I sympathize with those who feel the futility of life at Christmastime. When others are finding joy and you’re not, it can be difficult to find a reason to go on.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the Christmas story. It seems to me a lot has been added to that story over the centuries. No wonder the snowball is now so massive. So much is riding on Christmas. Maybe I expected too much. My attitude often reflected Longfellow’s words, “…in despair I bowed my head; “There is no peace on earth,” I said; “For hate is strong, And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”

Yet, the outline of the story is simple. It has nothing to do with the hustle and bustle of the season or the blatant commercialization of the holiday. Its simplicity should be our antidote when we’re hit by the overwhelming realization that life is not as it could or should be. A child of God, born in humble circumstances, of faithful parents, surrounded by love, will show us the way. The baby in a manger is, in a sense, a representative of all children, for the kingdom of God is within us. All of us. Not just this or that group. The power to change things is in all our hands. It always was. Maybe we make too much of the literal interpretation of the story and too little of our response to it, too much of the observance of the holiday and too little of our part in the story.

Ironically, many wars have been fought at Christmastime. Both civil and world. At least two wars are going on as I write this. Is the meaning of the Christmas story – and other stories we cherish in their simplicity – so hard to find, much less keep? Are stories of peace, forgiveness, and new beginnings pointless? Are we doomed to relive humanity’s old prejudices, hatred, and violence? Often it seems so.

If hope, peace, joy, and love are central to the story, isn’t it our job to live as though they are? Maybe we expect our problems to be solved through outside intervention. Maybe we’ve let the story acquire too many details, as if to ask one other, “what if I added this to the story, would you believe it then?” So, we sort of believe a lot, but don’t really act on most of what we believe. For over 2000 years we’ve been re-telling the story, but we haven’t been able to make its message real.

The story, in its simplicity, is a call to action. At least it’s a call to avoid being hostile to one another, to offer gratitude and forgiveness instead of selfishness and animosity. It seems to me we can’t really live the story if we insist on having things our way all the time. Each time we treat another person as we would want to be treated, every time we reject the notion that some of us are better than others, and whenever we reject the idea that our interpretation of the story is the only one, we are acting in the spirit of Christmas. The old Shaker refrain says it best: “When true simplicity is gain’d, To bow and to bend we shan’t be asham’d, To turn, turn will be our delight, Till by turning, turning we come ’round right.”