Our Journey Toward Christmas

There are many compasses we can use to guide our lives, a fact that is especially clear this time of year. The compass of the dominant culture and its emphasis on the "Christmas Machine" has a strong pull right now, inviting us to both do and buy more. This same compass also encourages us to make strive to make this Christmas the "best Christmas ever!" I don't even know what that might mean, but I certainly know that approaching anything with that kind of pressure and expectation is the surest way to ruin it. Imagine you were going to have some friends over for an evening of dinner and fun. Now imagine that your goal was to make sure that this would be the best dinner gathering with friends ever! Again, I am not sure quite what that would even mean, but I do know that approaching any occasion with this mindset will most likely heighten the anxiety which could then ruin rather than enhance the experience. Christmas is a hard time of year for many people. Holidays like Christmas are markers and reminders of losses and past gatherings that we have experienced in our lives. A loved one who has always been with us to celebrate Christmas is not with us this year. Someone has died since last Christmas, or a relationship has ended, or a dear friend or family member has moved away. This might be a Christmas where we are all alone, or one where financial difficulties are magnified and greatly limit our ability to celebrate, as we would like to. This might be a Christmas overshadowed by significant health issues, either for ourselves or someone we love.

As we remember how difficult this time of year can be for many people, we clearly see how dangerous and in fact painful a mindset of "make it the best Christmas ever" or trying to create the "perfect" Christmas can be. So if the mindset and compass of the dominant culture prove to unhelpful and stressful, what compass might we use instead to guide our decisions and our experiences as we approach the celebration of Christmas?

Here's a rather obvious idea. Why not truly make the meaning of Christmas your guiding compass this time of year? The compass of Christmas points in a very different direction than does the compass of the dominant culture. Specifically, it points the way towards Christmas by reminding us that:

• Presence is more important than presents.
• The best gifts cannot be purchased at a store.
• The Light is stronger than any darkness or sadness we may be experiencing at this time.
• Spending time with or making things for friends and family is a holy gift.
• Caroling with and for others is a gift for the soul as is the gift of visiting someone who is alone.
• Giving a gift of time or money to a local cause or charity can mean more than any material gift we might buy.
• The vulnerability of sharing with others any sadness we are experiencing creates an experience of love and intimacy, which is, of course, the heart of what Christmas is all about.
• Listening, loving, and caring are the greatest gifts we can share.
• The most important thing to keep in mind this season is not just what we do or give to one another, but is that we have been given the greatest gift of all, the gift of Love by God.

If you find yourself feeling stressed this time of year, take a moment to assess which compass is truly influencing your mindset and choices. As with any journey, the compass we use to guide our way everyday makes all the difference as to where we end up. If we choose wisely these next few weeks, our journeys toward Christmas are much more likely to be full of authentic joy, peace, and love.

A Time to Prepare

The following is an excerpt from "Living Well through Advent 2014," I wrote for Living Compass and Morehouse Publishing.  You can order a copy of this booklet through the Resources section of our website.

We had some friends over for dinner recently--nothing fancy, just a casual gathering. We made a spicy vegetarian chili and even asked our guests to help with the preparations while we caught up with each other's lives.  They were happy to grab a paring knife and help us trim the numerous vegetables that were going into the large pot on the stove and to help us prepare our salad. Preparing a part of the meal together ended up being a big part of the fun of our evening together.

It is also true that part of the delight of Advent comes from preparing together, preparing together with all our heart, soul, strength, and mind, for the upcoming feast of God's Incarnation.  Preparation, both communally and individually, is the essence of Advent. Just as a gardener needs to prepare the soil before the seeds are planted, or a friend prepares to have friends over for a meal we also need to prepare for Christmas. We need to prepare our hearts to be more open to receiving the seeds of God's life-giving Word.  Isaiah's words ring clear in both the Old Testament and Gospel readings today, "See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.'" (Isaiah 40:3, Mark 1:3).

So how might we approach this preparation? One way to approach it is to reflect on the root meaning of the word prepare. This word has two components. "Pre," of course, means before, which speaks to preparing as being something we do before or in anticipation of something that will be happening soon. "Pare" means to trim, or to cut. Think of the paring knives you have in your kitchen or the knives that we and our friends used to trim the vegetables that were part of our recent dinner together.

It is not uncommon for someone in a state of post-Christmas exhaustion to reflect back and wish they had done things differently.  Such reflections are, in a sense, an act of “post-paring.”  The person is looking back and wishing they had made different choices, and often that includes wishing that had done less, that they had done a better job paring down certain activities or expectations.  Of course it is impossible to post-pare, but it is indeed possible, and in fact desirable, to pre-pare.  While there may be many things we find ourselves preparing for this time of year, both Isaiah and John the Baptist remind us that the most important prep work we are doing is preparing the way of the Lord.

Throughout the upcoming week we will invite you to reflect upon what you might want to pare, what you might want to trim out of your life in these coming weeks.  Think of something that you might choose to let go of  so as to allow more room, more time and energy for preparing for Jesus' birth. In our Living Compass Faith & Wellness ministry we talk about how we first get a “whisper”, a feeling that something just isn't right, from God when we are not living our lives in alignment with God's desires for us. Sometimes the whisper is in regard to something we need to trim or pare from our lives, something we need to do less of in our lives.  Only when we take the time to be quiet, working to seek out and listen to the voice of the one crying in the wilderness, paying attention to God's whisper can we then repent, and make new choices, choices that will more fully prepare for us the way of the Lord.

Are You Full Yet?

As  each of us enjoyed our Thanksgiving meals this year, we probably paused  a few times to consider whether we should have one more bite, thinking  to ourselves, "am I full yet?"  If you ignored this question, or kept on  eating in spite of your answer, you no doubt paid a consequence for  it.  Instead of enjoying your Thanksgiving you probably ended up  uncomfortable and tired.Now we each have another chance to ask the same  question, "am I full yet?"  We will each answer this question numerous  times over the next three and half weeks as we prepare to celebrate  Christmas.  The pressure to overindulge this time of year is  immense.  It is easy to say "yes" to so many internal and external  expectations that we  do not realize the cumulative effect of our  decisions, until we are relieved that Christmas is over.  The paradox is  that all of this fullness leaves us feeling empty, as if all we did was  eat dessert after dessert, somehow missing the main course. So if trying to be so  full runs the risk of leaving us feeling empty, perhaps we might try a  different approach this year.  We might practice saying "no" to the  expectations that we put on ourselves and allow others to put on us.  In  doing this we say "yes" to our need for quiet, rest and deeper  connections with the people we love most.  In doing this we may discover  the other side of the paradox:  emptying our lives of some things will  help us to feel full. There is another essential reason to practice letting  go of the pressure of expectations this holiday season.  God has a  way of showing up in our lives in the most surprising and unexpected  ways.  If our lives are overly full, there is no room for such  surprises. Remember that in the story of Christmas the inn was full the night that Love was born.  Intentionally emptying our lives of  busyness, creates openings for Love to enter our lives and our  relationships anew this year, making room for the main course of the  season.

Telling Our Stories

In 1946 a young Episcopal priest was just beginning his ministry in Flossmoor, Illinois. As I heard this once young man tell the story this week he spoke of a tremendous advantage he had as a new priest in town in being able to attract other young men like himself to join the parish. That advantage was the fact that these young men, including himself, all in their mid to late twenties at the time, had a bond like no other that instantly connected them all. They were all veterans of a war that had just ended, World War II. James Montgomery went on to become a bishop in the Episcopal Church and served as the Bishop of the Diocese of Chicago from 1971 to 1987. Bishop Montgomery, now 93 years old, was honored at a Veteran's Day celebration held at the Diocese of Chicago center this past Tuesday and I was honored to attend and to hear him speak. During this celebration I was privileged to hear him tell the story of serving courageously in the Navy during World War II and participating in the invasion at Omaha Beach on D-Day. Upon returning from the war he decided to spend the rest of his life serving the church so he was ordained and began his long faithful ministry in Flossmoor, a southern suburb of Chicago.

Bishop Montgomery's story was just one of the veteran's story I heard this past week. Last Sunday I visited St. Paul's Church in Peoria, Illinois and had the chance to meet quite a few veterans. At coffee hour I was honored to hear the stories of how serving in various wars affected the trajectories of their lives. Throughout the remainder of this week I continued to hear moving stories of love and sacrifice and was honored to be shown photographs of people's loved ones who also served in the armed forces. I was also privileged to be able tell of my own father's experience of how he was in the first wave of soldiers to liberate France at Utah beach on D-Day, and how much his life too was forever changed by serving our country during World War II.

I simply love to listen to people's stories. Perhaps that is why I have loved being a priest and psychotherapist for the last three decades--because I love having the sacred honor of being invited into the stories of people's lives. Someone once asked me several years ago if I ever got tired of listening to people's problems. My response was quick and from the heart, "No, I don't, because I don't listen to people's problems; I listen to their stories." Our stories profoundly shape our identities. While it is we who tell our stories, it is equally true that our stories "tell us." Our stories tell of how our character, values, faith, and how our very identities have been formed.

Of course, it is not just veterans who have important stories to be told and to be honored. Every person, no matter who they are, has fought tough battles and experienced his or her share of triumph and loss. Every person has both regrets and blessings to share and pass on, life lessons that they have learned and can share with others through the telling of his or her story.

Part of the power of personal stories is that they never become old. They continue to contain wisdom and can teach us important lessons. In fact they become deeper and more meaningful as we grow older, a fact that was evident this week when Bishop Montgomery shared his stories from the war and from sixty-eight years ago when he was a newly ordained priest. When he shared those powerful stories with those who were gathered to honor him it was as if they had just happened yesterday because the power of the experience is still very much alive in him.

So while Veteran's Day may have passed for this year, may it serve as a reminder to all of us of regarding just how important it is to take the time to both tell and listen to the stories of each other's lives. Is there someone special whose story you would like to hear? Is there someone to whom you would like to tell your story? Sharing our stories enriches our understanding of each other, creates deeper bonds and helps us appreciate each other in new and more authentic ways.

Repairing Cars and Other Complex Matters

Tom Magliozzi, a mechanic turned radio show host, died earlier this week due to complications related to Alzheimer's disease. Tom and his brother Ray were the cohosts of "Car Talk," an extremely popular show on National Public Radio. The show began in 1987 and ran through 2012 and eventually reached four million listeners every week. The show continues on the air today as some of the show's best episodes are replayed and enjoyed by folks everywhere each week. Although this is a weekly column about wellness, not car repair, I think there is a great deal for us to learn about wellness from Tom Magliozzi. First, and most obvious, if you have ever listened to Car Talk, is the power of humor. Every person I have heard honoring Tom's memory this week mentions his infectious laugh as one of the things that they remember most fondly about him. He never laughed at another but was able to find humor all around him including laughing at himself.

Humor has the power to transform any subject and any conversation, as Tom and his brother showed us each and every week. If someone told you that they loved listening to a weekly radio show about car repair because they enjoyed laughing along with the hosts, you would probably find that hard to imagine, unless of course you had ever listened to Car Talk. Tom and Ray, known as Click and Clack, the Tappet brothers on the show, could transform a conversation about tire rebalancing and front-end alignment into a humorous and philosophical reflection about how everyone could use a little rebalancing and front-end alignment from time to time. Listening to these bothers banter with callers left everyone listening at home laughing as well.

One wellness lesson here is that humor enhances any kind of talk, not just car talk. Do you need to have talk with a friend about a conflict in your relationship? Do you need have a talk with your child about his or her behavior? Do you need to have a talk with a colleague or employee about a misunderstanding at work? Do you need to have a talk with your spouse or partner about something you would like to change in your relationship? Each of these "talks" will benefit from having the lubricant of humor injected into the conversation. Becoming overly serious when talking with others almost always constricts communication, while humor has the opposite effect. Humor expands conversations and expands our ability to listen and better receive what is being communicated. All talk, not just car talk, benefits from a little humor now and then.

A second wellness lesson that Tom and Ray demonstrated for us is an extension of the first. Tom and his brother Ray had a remarkable ability to never take themselves too seriously. I recently heard an interview in which they were questioned about why they decided to start a radio show about car repair. Tom answered that the original reason was to drive business to their small auto repair shop in Cambridge, Massachusetts. As that business grew though, Tom reported that he hated working the long hours it took to take care of all of their new customers. He said he discovered that doing a radio show didn't feel like work, compared to the twelve hours of daily physical labor he was putting in at the shop. He concluded his answer to the interviewer's question by laughing and saying, "So I wanted to grow Car Talk so I wouldn't have to really work for a living anymore." Tom's self-deprecating humor was also evident in the same interview when he was asked what he had learned in the twenty years he had been doing radio. His response? "Absolutely nothing! I don't know what I'm doing any more than the day I started--(insert a loud, raucous laugh here)."

So thank you Tom for teaching us not just about car repair but for reminding us that all things in life can be repaired best with a good dose of humor, mixed with the reminder to not take ourselves too seriously.