The Tumped Over Tree: A Christmas Meditation
There's one is fashioned to look like a guitar; another like a violin. There are ornaments I made with crayons and construction paper when I was in kindergarten, decades ago; and some Maria made the same fashion during her kindergarten Christmas, just three years ago.
Others have a small music box attached to the base. They are stunningly beautiful. We bought one or two from her each of those eleven years. And she'd always throw in one or two more as a gift.
There are all sorts of ornaments from trips around the world: Wooden ornaments from Russia...musicians playing balalikas, babuskas carrying trays of food, and even an Orthodox Bishop. There are small Bolivian peasants that my sister sent back from her time there. There angels painted in Guatemalan folk style that I bought in market at Chichicastenango a few year's back.
There are half a dozen ornaments from my mother's
Christmas trees when she was a girl. It amazes Maria
to know that that we have something on our tree "that
old."
Well, whatever your holiday tradition, I hope you're
getting ready as well.
-------------------------------------
As we put up the tree Sunday, I was reminded of
something that happened to us almost ten-years-ago
now. I think it was the last year we actually had a
live tree, and we'd brought it home from the store.
We lived in a small rent house in East Dallas that
had a large, front window that looked out over the
street. So, we decided to put the tree there, so that
it could be seen by everyone who passed by.
The thing was, the tree was pretty far away from the
street, and there were shrubs in between too. So, we
recognized early on that --except for the lights and
a few really shiny ornaments-- individual tree
trinkets were not going to be visible from the street
at all. Nobody from the street would be able to make
out any of the specific ornaments I've just told you
about. And what a waste that would be!
So, we made a decision to put all of our favorite
ornaments on the room-side of the tree. We were
planning to have several holiday parties and, we
reasoned, that it made sense to concentrate on
the
inside
of the tree so that people in the house would be able
to see and enjoy our ornaments too.
So that's what we did. We loaded up the "living room
side" of that tree with just about every possible
ornament.
We went off to run some errands for a while, and
returned to the house late in the day. But when we
opened the door, we discovered something shocking:
the tree had tumped over on itself. It had fallen
inward, into that front room. Under the weight of all
those pretty, shiny Christmas ornaments, it had
simply "tumped over."
"Tumped over," by the way, is a Texas theological
term. Someone told me recently that it may even be a
North Texas theological term. Who knows? But I'm sure
there are snooty English-language-types who are
scratching their heads, and holding their noses, that
I have used this word, or that I have called it
theological. And all I can say in response is,
see this.
At any rate, we had quite a job before us. We had
to
undecorate
the tree, set it back up, and then
redecorate
it again...this time with the ornaments more evenly
distributed, so as to prevent further "tumping."
------------------------
That little story has stayed with me in all the years
since, as a powerful metaphor for the holiday season.
Because many of us spend our holiday season trying to
put our best face forward.
We put on glamorous holiday parties, or attend
them...
We break our backs putting out lights and decorating
our homes...
We spend hours, fretting over just the right gift for
friends and family...
And, in what I can only describe as a massive
collective delusion, we somehow buy into the crazy
idea that between Thanksgiving and New Year's --a
lengthy five week span --we should be unbearably
happy every single day.
Faced with all this, our holidays can get out of
balance.
In our efforts to look good, act good, and to pretend
to be cheery, sometimes we can get "tumped over."
(There's the theological part...)
But the real paradox? Most of this stuff I've just
mentioned has absolutely nothing to do with the real
Christmas story at all:
"In that region there were shepherds living in the
fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then
an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory
of the Lord shone around them, and they were
terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not
be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news
of great joy for all the people: to you is born this
day in the city of David a Savior, who is the
Messiah, the Lord."
That's what Christmas is about.
-------------------------------------------------
There is a wonderful book, and one that's been around
for many years, called "Unplug the Christmas
Machine,"
by Jo Robinson and Jean Coppock Staeheli. It
features all sorts of ideas for turning off the
commercialism of the holiday season, and
reorienting our lives back toward what truly
matters. Basically, it's an instruction manual for
how not to get "tumped over" during the holidays.
In part of the book, the authors have fashioned a
Christmas pledge, which goes like this:
"Believing in the beauty and simplicity of Christmas, I commit myself to the following:
1. To remember those people who truly need my gifts.
2. To express my love for family and friends in more direct ways than presents.
3. To rededicate myself to the spiritual growth of my family.
4. To examine my holiday activities in light of the true spirit of Christmas.
5. To initiate one act of peacemaking within my circle of family and friends."
Those are great suggestions, aren't they?
What if we made them our "Christmas list" this year?
| Comments |
|---|
|
|