Blanket of Snow

A soft blanket of snow peacefully wraps up the city. Harsh edges are cushioned, dark corners covered and light magnified. The resplendent paradox of a city clothed in snow evokes reflection on the cultural enigma of Christmas. It is a time, more than any other, that our thoughts are turned toward giving, blessing, gifting. Yet, we attempt to grasp and control this practice of grace, and in so doing, create something other than grace - something all together different.

Smells - oh, the smells associated with our celebration. Turkey, roast beef, ham, potatoes, onions, dressing, pies, apples, oranges, coffee, cinnamon, and peppermint all combine in the aromatic sense of the season. As our olfactory center soaks in the joyful smells, we're surrounded by the commotion of the day. Bells ringing, music playing, conversations with rarely seen relatives, kitchen noises culminating in the table fellowship and then the ripping of paper, surprised responses, expressions of gratitude both heart felt and politely mandated by the mores of the gathered community.

There is a joy and awkwardness in our family gatherings. Family - it is a received reality. We don't control our identity. We have shared experiences, but our lives are so different, our personalities so foreign to one another. As was often said to me in adolescence, "You can pick your nose and you can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family." What a wise proverb.

It seems to me that our desire to control increases with age, which causes strain in our familial relationships - in all of our relationships for that matter. We live in a culture of control. The customer service counter is exceedingly busy today. The line is wrapped back and forth like a python full of grumpy people. If a gift is not to our liking these days, we simply exchange it for something more suited to our tastes. Rather than run this risk, it is more common to simply give our loved ones a gift card. We must have control over what we receive. It is no surprise, then, that we have difficulty understanding grace in this culture.

We attempt to control the Gift - to exchange it for something more palatable to our senses, something more to our liking. He came to His own and His own did not receive Him! I've found that the Christian mystics tend to understand grace in deep and robust ways. They have something significant to teach us. Though they say it in different ways and in different languages, yet with a common voice they describe the person at peace as one who is utterly empty. Only an empty soul has room for the fullness of Divine Love - which will be poured into it.

Empty. Open. I'm reminded of the common posture of prayer among early Christians. It was one of openness, expectancy and reception. They would typically look toward the heavens, anticipating the coming of Christ, with their hands raised, palms open and facing up ready to gratefully receive the Gift from above. As Christ-followers, we receive and participate in the grace-filled life of God, we don't control and manipulate. We in-dwell. We abide. We breathe. I think this is one of the most difficult things for us to comprehend. If we go to the exchange counter, which is always an open option, we will only exchange truth for a lie, hope for despair, peace for chaos, and life for death. The Gift is not exchangeable, no matter how difficult it is for us to swallow His flesh and blood.

It is hard to become empty and to open our hands because in so doing we relinquish one of the deepest human desires - control. With an open hand, we cannot grasp. We simply receive and give as life flows through us. The snow falls into our hand and melts away, a simple pleasure, a momentary joy. Yet, more and more we come to realize that this is who we were created to be - a means of grace, a channel of life. And that this open poverty is the place of beauty. Until next time - Blessings in Christ ~ RLS