Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Re-entry Drama and Humor--Post 3

When I was in High School, Christmas day fell on a Sunday.  I was quite indignant that my little Baptist Church was not having services, because it was Christmas.  The pastor's argument that church staff (that was him) didn't want to work on Christmas day any more than anyone else just didn't make sense.  Umm...your job is to promote...Christmas... and everything it represents. But, alas, there were to be no services.  I became even more indignant when I discovered that none of the local Baptist Churches, Church of Christ churches or Catholic churches were having services either.  But my teen angst was eased when the Methodist church announced that it would, indeed, have services.  My mother, reluctantly, agreed to take her huffy teen to the service. It was one of those most special church moments for me, since local people from all the denominations were there to celebrate the birth of OUR savior.  It made sense. It was good.  It was joy-filled. And I walked away from that moment thinking that if there was ever a day for the church to be open it was Christmas.  Yet it was the only Christmas morning in my growing up years that I ever celebrated AT church.

Our first Christmas in England, Christmas day was on a Tuesday.  Imagine my surprise to learn that my Baptist church in England was having Christmas morning services.  On a Tuesday! My cynical self expected there to be a handful of people. Instead, the church was crowded.  We happily sang, "Yea, Lord, we greet thee, born this happy morning," which is the third verse of "Oh Come All Ye Faithful." In this church, the third verse is only sung on Christmas morning.  It was a great tradition. All the kids brought toys they had received that morning and the pastor demonstrated how they worked, complete with riding a unicycle down the aisle. It was a happy, joyous occassion. We wished our church family 'Happy Christmas' and then families returned to their homes to continue their individual traditions.

After that, when folks would ask us if we were 'going home' [i.e. to the States] for Christmas, we would answer that we could not imagine not being with our church family at Christmas, so no we would not be traveling. Christmas morning at church was a part of our tradition in each of the four churches we were in while in Europe. It was a given. We would be there for Christmas.  We would sing our joy of Christmas' arrival, we would hug our friends and then we would have our family traditions for the rest of the day. Sixteen Christmas mornings at church.

Then we returned to the United States in September, so we were in the States for Christmas.  And there was so much I loved about Christmas.  It was the first Christmas in our marriage that we were 'home' for Christmas. We loved watching the niece and nephew open gifts. We reveled in the laughter and the food and the traditions. We, as an extended family, went to Christmas Eve candlelight services, and they were beautiful. But Christmas morning, something was missing. I was sad that I did not have a church service to go and sing with fellow believers to welcome the Christ child. NONE of the evangelical or mainline churches in our city had advertised services. Many had Christmas Eve services, but none Christmas morning.  There was one Catholic church down the road from us that held an early mass.  That was all. And it made me sad. And it made me miss my European brothers and sisters who seem to remember the reason for Christmas is more than commercialism and a day off. 

And I'm recording this because I don't want to forget how amazing worship on Christmas morning can be.

1 comment:

Kimberly said...

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Thanks.