Merry Christmas to you and your family, Christmas, 2020
It’s tough to know what to say about a year like 2020. Conjure up Dickens? “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”? Maybe. But it’s not easy to look back on 2020 and summon up anything like “best of times.” The bitter fruit of COVID? Rioting and civil unrest? A contentious election, the results of which many are still unwilling to accept? What’s there to like in that rogues’ gallery? Who among us can take comfort from such goings on?
No-one. Or, at least, very few.
So, in what can we take comfort? Try this. It’s what Russell Kirk called the “The Permanent Things.” But what did Kirk, the American political thinker of the mid to late twentieth century, mean by “the permanent things”?
Try these: Faith. Family. Friends. Ideas and ideals that have stood the test of time. Beliefs that haven’t been swept away by the latest fads and isms.
“Okay,” you might say, “but faith, family and friends pretty much sound like empty nostrums. Who can argue with those? Why don’t you get specific?”
Good point; let’s do get specific. And what say we start with Christmas itself? The “permanent thing” that’s been around for over 2,000 years.
And that’s not nearly the half of it. Why? Because if you believe, as John put it in his Gospel, that Jesus was the Word, and that the Word was with God, then the Word was with God in the beginning. (Jn 1:1) And if that’s so, Jesus has been around for a very, very long time. Close enough to permanent for you?
“Sure,” you might say, “but that’s just one man’s opinion. Who knows, maybe John was swept up by the excitement of those heady days so long ago and was just delusional.”
Maybe. But if that’s the case, get ready to say that Jesus was off his rocker as well. Because, a bit further on in that same Gospel, Jesus says this of himself: “So now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world existed.” (Jn 17:5)
You can’t have it both ways. Either Jesus-and John-were telling the truth. Or they were madmen. And as someone who’s struggled with the delusions that accompany bipolar disorder, I’ve had some experience with both. Yet when I’m in my right mind, at least I understand that, indeed, you can’t have it both ways.
So, during this special season, where do you fall? The whole thing’s a far fetched fairy tale dreamt up to part us from our money? Or does it signify a something else? Something permanent?
Some of you, I suppose, might resent this Christmas letter. “It’s a preachy downer. Where’s the holiday cheer? Enough of this Jesus stuff.”
I understand. But here’s a thought. If a year like 2020 isn’t enough to get us thinking about permanent things, what’ll it take? I shudder to think.
And the prayer that accompanies this letter? That you give it at least enough time to read it before it makes its way from the kitchen table to the trash can. Like all that political mail you got before “the silly season” mercifully came to end on November 3.
A very Merry Christmas to you and yours!
The Swalms
