I’m sitting here in my living room, listening to my favorite non-Christmas hymn song. “Happy Xmas (War is Over).” I love the fact that Lennon was the first Beatle to submit his Christmas song out into the world.
It has his signature lyrical themes all over it. Classic Lennon. Political, social, cultural, universal. An anthem (Imagine that), calling for all the people of the world (black, white, yellow, red) not to fight, but instead have a Happy Christmas.
There is just something about Christmas songs in general, right? We all have a favorite or two. They are a vibe. Most can usher us right into the spirit.
I’ve always loved the first few lines, right out of the gate:
So this is Christmas
And what have you done?
(Another year over…)
It makes me stop, ponder, and ask myself. I love getting introspective. What did I achieve or accomplish this year of significance, that actually mattered? What did I put my hand to, that I’m proud of? I didn’t waste the time, did I?
And so this is Christmas.
I am surrounded by warmth, family, and blessings. Right now—as we speak, as I type. The snow is gently falling outside my window, slowly coating the external world in a faint white dusting. My family is in the living room—laughing, enjoying themselves, looking at photos, doing nothing in particular. The record player is spinning Christmas tunes in the background. The family is humming along, when we notice it.
Christmas is a wonderful time of year, indeed.
Let’s hope it’s a good one, without any fear.
And yet, I can’t help but think about others are who having a much different Christmas than I am, at this exact moment. This year especially. I think of children, for whom Christmas might be the most magical to and for. Who are experiencing real fear. I think about the Palestinian and Israeli children. Children in the Ukraine. They did not ask for these circumstances to be thrust upon them. War and oppression and violence have no regard for timelines or sacred holidays or calendar celebrations. The irony is not lost on me, that Christ was born in this very region—arriving as the promised Price of Peace—where the nations currently rage.
I am starting to think that maybe there really are hells on earth. Imagine having to live through this, as a young child—especially at Christmastime nonetheless. It seems cruel.
I would rather have heaven on earth. Or heaven come to earth. And I know you do too. (Thy Kingdom come. On earth, as it is in heaven).
The beautiful thing is that heaven did come to earth. 2000 years ago. In the from of the Christ child—God incarnate, wrapped in flesh. Humble, hopeful, glorious, radiant. Perfect. The perfect life, the shining example of love. Thank God for that child’s birth!
May we continue to bring heaven to this earth, to others, and practice that perfect example of love.
I pray God continues to come to earth, to visit us. Especially those suffering at this moment.
I pray the hope, joy, magic, and peace of Christmas (and all that Christ can bring) reaches them this year.
War is over, if you want it. Come on human race, let’s want it.