The Story does not end with Christmas

Steve and I took down the decoration off our Christmas tree and put the nativity set away today. The Christmas season is a bittersweet time for me because we are away from family and we don’t have biological children. The celebration is different, the food is different than in France... It is a busy time. But still I enjoy Christmas – not the marketers’ version of Christmas, mind you – I dislike shopping most of the time; but I like the lights and the ornaments, many of which have a history. We have stuffed teddy bears in winter outfits on our couch. One even plays music when you squeeze its paw.

And I never get tired of hearing the Story or telling the Story in various ways.



From as far back as I can remember as a child, it was my “job” to put up the crèche and that tradition remains. We have a neat nativity set. It’s not the “santons” (“little saints” in Provençal,) of my youth, those hand-painted clay figurines, dressed in traditional attire, prevalent in the south of France. My little resin friends of today look right out of first century Judea. The plaster houses look like what I imagine the houses back then would have looked like. I enjoy setting the scene and trying to imagine what life would have been like so long ago.

People, in my crèche rendition, go about their every day business, oblivious to the miracle happening right under their nose. That part has not changed all that much, has it?

The wise men are even part of my recreated story despite the fact that scholars don’t believe they reached Jesus until he was a 2 year-old toddler and long gone from the stable in Bethlehem. There are 3 wise men – an assumption based on the three gifts brought – again, probably not accurate either but frankly it does not matter all that much. The point, as our lectionary texts Sunday reminded us, is that outsiders: Gentiles (non-Jews), dirty-stinky shepherds… believed what they heard, responded and came to worship and became part of the family of God. Power, as the world understands it, was turned on its head, redefined, on that day.

So there is a little sadness because putting things away means that another year has gone by. The lights are put away and familiar and beloved carols won’t be sung for the next 12 months.

The end of the Christmas season kind of feels like I imagine the disciples must have felt coming down the mountain after transfiguration. There is part of me that wants to stay on the mountain, dazzled by visions and light. But I am reminded that I can’t stay on the mountain. Life happens on the plain and in the valley and occasionally there are mountain top experiences.

But “God is in us, God is for us, God is with us Emmanuel”; that is what the Casting Crown song I sang Sunday reminded us of. He is with us all year long, whether we are on a mountain or deep in the valley.