Entering Christmas

This year has created all sorts of new ways in how we organize our lives, along with rearranging or completely obliterating many long held traditions. As I was considering the disruption in this season of Advent and the anticipation of Christmas, it brought to mind a pretty well known and ancient story, which I think raises some important questions for us.

First, it is likely that most people’s holiday gatherings are not going to be as sizable this year, with a number of family members unable to travel or get together. This raises at least one rather big question for folks, “Does that provide a sense of relief, maybe this is even good news, or is it disappointing to downright depressing?”

It’s complex, I know. There is a lot of history and stories and scenarios to try and navigate and consider. I think we have to be painfully honest and recognize that some people are simply toxic for us. You’ve had the talk too many times with uncle Larry, the one in which you have clearly stated that a topic or certain topics just need to be bagged, because it simply produces chaos while offering zero fruit.

That can be all too real.

But then there is the deeper work for us, recognizing and owning what is ours to face and deal with.

Bitterness. Resentment. Lack of forgiveness. These can either dominate or just permeate get togethers for us. These can hold us captive and suck the lifeblood out of us like a super sized leech. For me, confronting all of this leads to a story Jesus told.

There was a dad who had two sons, the younger son essentially takes his inheritance and flips the bird to his upbringing. He lives selfishly and recklessly, and then ends up squandering everything. If you recall from a couple of my previous writings, I mentioned my favorite ancient story about the life of Jacob, then you can a number of very significant touch points between these two stories. One being how this younger son has a Jacob type moment of awakening, and he realizes how he had missed the grace and goodness surrounding the life that he chose to run from. So this younger son comes home empty, tail firmly tucked between his legs. In what would culturally be a shocking turn, the father races to meet him and embraces him with profound forgiveness, grace, compassion and mercy. It’s a beautiful and overwhelming scene.

And then there is the older brother. He has followed all the rules and stayed home to work for his father with an unmatched work ethic. And when he hears that his younger brother has come home, and that their father has prepared a massive party to celebrate, he becomes furious. And it’s this part of the story that has been ping ponging within me. As the older brother comes in from the field, he hears the DJ spinning the best records and all of the raucous dancing happening inside the party. And it’s here that we read…

“The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him.”

This scene is so thick. It’s only one Greek word that translates the phrase “to go in” and it’s eiserchomai. It holds the meaning “to come into life.” Whoa. The older brother’s anger and resentment has led him to refuse to come into life. Yikes.

Now, the Greek word that translates how the father “went out,” is exerchomai, and it means “to go forth from one’s power or to come forth into the world.” The father steps out of his place of power and enters into the place of his oldest son, and it’s here that he pleads with him to join the party. Can you see the much bigger and far reaching story here?

The party is happening, it’s in full swing, and the only thing keeping the older son out… is himself. His anger and resentment and entitlement.

And how the story ends is less an ending and much more an invitation. “My son,” the father said, “you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

That’s it, that’s how it ends… which is not really an ending. It just hangs there, seemingly wondering out loud, “Will the older brother join in or will he allow his unresolved issues and feelings to keep him out?”

Christmas is a party. It’s for everyone. It’s the Divine going forth from power and coming forth into our world, so as to plead with us to join the celebration. But if that person is going to be there, or if the party has room for those people, then there is the choice of staying outside. We can stand at the entrance, buried in resentment.

This season has required us to not gather with many people, which also raises the question on whether we would choose to gather with people if it were possible. How would we have responded to an invitation to the party?

Will we do the excruciating, but powerfully transforming interior work, or will we refuse to “come into life?”