Those "Blankety-Blank" Christmas Shoes

So I was driving home the other night from a meeting at church, listening to the radio. Of course it was the 24/7 how-many-versions-of-jingle-bells-can-we-play-in-five-minutes, here's-yet-another-ego-embellished-vocal-gaudy-version-of-O-Holy-Night, Christmas-til-ya-stop-drop-and-roll-cause-you're-on-fire-with-so-much-joy station. 'Tis the season...

The one song that simultaneously causes me to overflow with both aggravation and grief is "The Christmas Shoes." The song is about a raggedly dressed little boy trying to buy his terminally-ill mother a pair of shoes for Christmas. Here's the chorus if you haven't yet had the experience:

Sir I wanna buy these shoes for my Momma please
It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size
Could you hurry Sir?
Daddy says there's not much time
You see, she's been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes will make her smile
And I want her to look beautiful
If Momma meets Jesus, tonight.

The cynic in me is quick to dismiss the song as a cheap marketing song to play on people's emotions in order to drive sales. There's also a part of me that says, "Come on! Are you serious?! Don't play with my emotions like that!"

I've heard the song several times, and to be honest, I've teared up almost every time. Especially when the children's choir sings the chorus near the end. I have to admit, it touches a deep place in my heart.

Why am I now so moved by what I've always lumped into the category of cornier-than-thou emotional vomit? Is it because I've matured when no one was looking, despite my best efforts to remain juvenile? Is it because I now have a daughter who looks up to her mother with the same awe and devotion shown by the little boy in this song? Is it because it really is a touching song and I am sometimes a Christmas-stealing Grinch when it comes to allowing myself to feel such deep emotions?

Probably all of the above and more that I don't yet realize.

There's another reason why the song elicits such a strong grief response: the song is true! Oh it may not be literally true, as if the songwriter is reporting an event that actually happened to him and he's just set the experience to song. But the general circumstances are true.

In my vocation I deal with death and dying on a daily basis. I've seen some ugly moments of selfishness and hopelessness, of bitter family squabbling and unresolved tension. But I've also seen such genuine moments of beauty and love that I've bowed my head in reverence because I was convinced I was in the presence of the Holy One.

Nearly every death is difficult, but sometimes they're made even harder when they occur on those days that should be reserved for joy and happiness and light and laughter and love, like Christmas.

I'm tempted to think that such an experience would somehow ruin the so-called "Christmas Spirit," but as I meditate on this I realize that such tragedy doesn't ruin the holiday. It merely demonstrates our great need to remember and celebrate this holy-day.

Let us remember that we celebrate Christmas precisely because we were once utterly lost in our sins, pain and selfishness, turmoil and violence. Sickness and death are results of our disobedience, but the miraculous birth of Jesus is a reminder to us that God has done everything possible to reach out to us and heal us - he became one of us!

Matthew quotes the prophet Isaiah and says, "The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel" - which means, "God with us." (1:23)

Not God-angry-with-us or God-against-us or even God-judging-and-smiting-us. God with us.

God with us... Yes God with us in our celebrations and joy and gift-giving and even our gift-receiving. But also God with us in our pain and sorrow. God with us in our grief and mourning. God with us in our disappointments and angst.

God with us in our living, and God especially with us in our death and dying.

And might I be so bold as to say, God with us even in our sinning and rebellion against him.

I suppose this is why those blankety-blank Christmas Shoes elicit such a response of grief from me. It is a reminder to me that despite our culture's attempt to remove all that is holy from Christmas by presenting it as the season of gaudy garlands and gift-giving-even-if-it-means-going-into-gargantuan-debt (Can you at least appreciate the alliteration?), Christmas remains a time when ragamuffins and sinners, the downtrodden and poor, the sick and dying are given good news.

It reminds me that my desire for a sanitized, watered-down version of Christmas is really a reflection of my desire to remain shielded from the hurts and pains of the world... until I realize the depth of my own hurts and pains!

It reminds me to look past the commercialization and trivialization of Christmas, to look beyond my own selfish desires and hang-ups and to see the real reason God is with us: "He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God - children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God." (John 1:11-13, NIV)

God with us. He came for you. He came for me. He came for the whole world.

And thank God for that.

The Gospel According to Disney

Ok. So it's been a while. I apologize, just in case there are any offended out there in the very limited sphere of people who actually know of this blog and its spastic postings (say that three times fast....)

Some of you know the Vadens got back from Disney a couple of weeks ago. OK. You'd have to live under a rock if you didn't know we'd been to Disney World. We've told everybody and their neighbor's sister's third cousin's newspaper boy.

Needless to say, we were very excited. (Doesn't that get on your nerves? Somebody says "needless to say" and then they go ahead and say it anyway? If it were needless to say it, then, by definition, you don't need to say it! So don't say it!)

Anyway....

There was really too much to report in a single blog posting and if I posted it all at the rate I've been posting, then I might have it all posted by late December 2037. Which, by the way, might be the next time we're able to go back. Disney World claims to be the most magical place on earth. And that's true, as long as we understand that magic ain't cheap!

There were many magical moments during our trip: being bear-hugged by Pluto when we first entered the Magic Kingdom; the look on Jenna's face when she first saw Cinderella's castle; our waitress at Animal Kingdom who got her manager to give us a coupon for two free shirts to replace what we though were two stolen shirts from the previous day in Epcot; the endless "Happy Birthday Princess Jenna!" greetings from nearly every park worker and bus driver. There really are too many to name.

One moment sticks out in my mind, though. Not just a magical moment, but a divine moment.

Sunday morning Jenna had her Bibbity Bobbity Boutique appointment in Cinderella's castle and got dolled up in her Belle costume. We were watching the parade and Jenna was sitting on my shoulders. Cinderella's float was passing by; the
Fairy Godmother was on the front and Cinderella and Prince Charming were on the back. Amidst the throng of people around us, both the Fairy Godmother and Cinderella looked right at Jenna, pointed to her, smiled and said "Happy Birthday Princess Jenna!" They held her eyes for several seconds, waved and both blew and kiss.

It may not sound like much, but it was truly magical. I felt like that moment was just for us, as if there were no one else in the park and they were doing the parade just for us. I brought Jenna down and held her against me. She half whispered in my ear, "They said Happy Birthday to me Daddy!" She was beaming.

If that were all, then it would probably be enough. But it's not all. At that moment, and for many moments afterward, I felt God speaking to me.

And this is what I felt him saying to me.

"Jim, this moment was for you too. As these characters have spoken to our
daughter Jenna, so I speak to you. Do you hear me wen I speak words of
kindness and blessing and compassion to you? Do you hear me when I speak my
to as my beloved son, my child for whom I will continue to cherish beyond
your wildest imaginations? Treasure this moment, my child. Know that I am
not angry with you or disappointed in you or frustrated by you or any other
negative feeling or thought you may have. I love you and will always love
you."

Wow. Though the intensity of the feeling has passed, the reality remains. Thank you God for... well, just for being who you are. A God who is love and compassion and mercy and grace, embodied in Jesus, expressed in the Spirit-empowered work of your servant disciples, the Church.

May you who read this feel and, above all, KNOW the love of God in Jesus with the same personalized intensity I felt that day in Disney World. Blessings....