That’s how I feel this year about the “reason for the season.” Jesus Christ, son of God, the Word became flesh is what we celebrate. And yet, I just somehow don’t get it. This is a pivotal moment in the greatest story in history, and yet here I am, blissfully caught up in the Western myth of holidays: relaxation, consumption and me, me, me.
Len over at NextReformation made an excellent post called “the darkest hour, redux” that nicely juxtaposes our ideas of Christmas against what it really meant when it happened. I wish thatÂ could say that I felt like I was living the kind of subversive story that he indicates that Christmas really is, but I can’t really say that I am.
Oh Lord, help me to see. Oh Lord, help me to believe.