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Coping While Celebrating
A Sermon Given
by The Rev. Kathie D. Thomas
on November 29, 1998
at Cedar Lane Unitarian Universalist Church
Bethesda, Maryland
Snow is falling in a quiet and serene natural setting. Inside the house, a fire glows in the fireplace. There are few
modern distractions like televisions, telephones, cars, or radios, and the only holiday decorations are a Christmas tree,
candles, greens and simple homemade decorations. Christmas presents, if there are any, are inexpensive remembrances,
or intangible spiritual gifts. The family members are in a good mood and enjoy each other's company in simple ways,
like taking walks or sleigh rides together, or gathering around the fire to sing carols or play musical instruments. It
doesn't take much to make people laugh, and if there is work to be done, such as the preparation of traditional food, the
tasks are shared or completed in some magical way without effort. The children are happy and well behaved and enjoy
each other's company. A relaxed, loving atmosphere washes over everyone and awakens them to all the religious or
spiritual possibilities that unite them at Christmas.
In this fantasy, there are no elaborate Christmas centerpieces, exotically decorated trees, tables set with Spode Christmas
china, or three-hour gift-unwrapping sessions. Most of the activities that require a lot of money and preparation have
vanished, so people have the peace of mind to be receptive to each other and trience and celebrate our dependence and our gratitude, forhe world around them. This universal
dream shows that at Christmas people want to be in harmony with the natural world, united with friends and relatives,
filled with a spirit of love and acceptance, and have their everyday cares lightened with fun and laughter.
This leads us to an obvious question. If most people are longing for such a simple celebration, why are their holidays
so complicated? Why don't more people pare down their activities and obligations until they have the peaceful,
spontaneous celebration they envision?
-- excerpt from "Unplug the Christmas Machine"
Well, why indeed? That is the question we will consider this morning.
The holidays are upon us. The stores have been filled for weeks with holiday decorations, gifts, and the frenetic pace
has already revved up. Depending on our personal vision of this holiday season we may be filled with anticipation and
excitement, aglow with the holiday spirit or we may be sad, even depressed, remembering celebrations of our childhood
filled with joy or ones with a mate or child or parent now gone and deeply missed. Or we are the Bah Humbug sort,
disgusted with the commercialism and false values. Or perhaps we are alternately all of these. How can we not only
cope with this season of rebirth, not just endure it -- but make of this Winter Solstice time a renewal of our spirits, a
confirmation of our deepest values. One of the unique things many Unitarian Universalists appreciate at the holidays is
honoring many different religious traditions as in the song by Dar Williams. Listen and see if you think Amber is a
UU.
Amber called her uncle, said we're up here for the holiday,
Jane and I are having solstice now, we need a place to stay,
and her Christ-loving uncle watched his wife hang Mary on the tree,
He watched his son hang candy canes all made with red dye number three.
He told his niece,"It's Christmas Eve, I know our life is not your style,
She said, "Christmas is like solstice and we miss you and it's been awhile."
So the Christians and the pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And before the meal was served hands were held and prayers were said,
Sending hope for peace on earth to all their gods and goddesses.
But can we do this in a way that does not make us frantic, believing the unreasoned boast at the holidays that "more is
better." A simplicity that allows us to see material things for what they are -- goods to enhance life not oppress life,
that does not let possessions become more important than people. At the holiday time, all the possibilities compete for
our attention. Like Jack's beanstalk, our obligations seem to grow overnight. We are trapped in a rat race of present
buying, family obligations, cooking and eating to excess. This is especially difficult for those of us who want to do it
right, who want to attend all the musical events, buy just the right presents, respond to those calls of service to others --
and keep our cool while doing it . . . WE turn ourselves inside out trying to do everything and to do it well.
It reminds me of the story of Hans the Tailor:
Hans had quite a good reputation, and so when an influential entrepreneur in the city needed a new suit he went to
Hans requesting one be tailor-made. But the next week when he came to pick it up, the customer found that one sleeve
twisted this way and the other that way, one shoulder bulged out and the other caved in. He pulled and struggled until
finally, wrenched and contorted, he managed to make his body fit the strange configuration of the suit. Not wanting to
cause a scene he thanked the tailor, paid his money, and caught the bus for home. A passenger on the bus, after
surveying the businessman's odd appearance for some time, finally asked if Hans the tailor had made the suit.
Receiving an affirmative reply, he remarked. "Amazing! I knew that Hans was a good tailor but I had no idea he could
make a suit to fit perfectly someone with such an unusual body as yours." (story from The Freedom of Simplicity,
Richard J. Foster)
Like the entrepreneur, we push and shove ourselves through the season, trying to do it all, trying to fit someone else's
version of what the holiday should be. Instead of listening to our inner prompting, instead of opening to the wonder of
simplicity, we force ourselves into someone else's suit.
Richard Foster in his book The Freedom of Simplicity, relates one of his initial attempts to bring the concept of
simplifying into his life. One night, exhausted from his busy traveling schedule, and waiting in the airport for yet
another plane, he read these words in Thomas Kelly's Testament of Devotion, "We feel honestly the pull of many
obligations and try to fulfill them all. And we are unhappy, uneasy, strained, oppressed, and fearful we shall be
shallow. We have hints that here is a way of life vastly richer and deeper than all this hurried existence . . . If only we
could slip into that Center! . . . We have seen and known some people who seem to have found this deep center of
living, where the fretful calls of life are integrated, where NO as well as YES can be said with confidence. So Foster
spent some time in prayer, reflecting on his most cherished values, opening to the Center in himself and decided he
wanted to spend more time with his family. He set aside Friday night and announced this to his family. But then, he
relates:
"The phone call came, it was a denominational executive. Would I be willing to speak to this group on Friday night?
There it was, another wonderful opportunity. My response was casual, almost unconscious, "Oh, no, I can't." The
reply was also casual, "Oh, do you have another commitment?" I felt trapped. (In those days I did not know that I
could quite legitimately say that I did indeed have a very important commitment.) Cautiously, but purposefully, I
answered simply, "No." With no attempt to justify . . . There followed a long period of silence . . . I could almost feel
the words, "Where is your dedication?" traveling through the telephone wires. I knew I had made a decision that
made me seem less spiritual to one for whom I genuinely cared. (After I hung up) inwardly I shouted, "Hallelujah!" I
had yielded to the Center.
How do we find that center, that place out of which we can make conscious choices, especially now at the holidays, but
really anytime in our lives that we are harried and hurried.
Many of you have read Unplug the Christmas Machine. If you haven't, I recommend it to you. If you have, why not
take it out and review it. Let me give you just a taste for our consideration here this morning. Basically, the book is
calling us to be more conscious about what we do at this busy holiday time. After reading the book, I have some
suggestions for us all, including myself. And if you have already successfully simplified your holidays, deepening your
sense of values, why not commit to supporting another person's or another family's process with these suggestions -- a
member of your family, a friend, another congregant. Perhaps we can even influence the culture in which we live.
Sit down with your significant others and remember what has been most important, most nurturing to you on other
holidays. What are customs, activities that you loved? What would you like to change? Fantasize a bit. Where would
you be? Who would be there? How would everyone behave. Who would prepare the food? Let's take a moment to
remember a time when the holiday seemed just right -- maybe like the fantasy we shared for the reading from Unplug
the Christmas Machine, or a time when you successfully simplified. It could be Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, the
Solstice on December 21, the day after Christmas -- pause for a few seconds and let the scene come into your mind.
Did it represent your values? Was it with family? Was it cooking foods from your own childhood? Was it finding a
more spiritual life at Christmas? Was it serving those in need?
In a moment, I will ask you what you remembered thinking back. I, who once loved doing it all at Christmas -- baking
ten different kinds of cookies, having a party for the neighborhood children at my house and inviting Santa, going to
every museum that has Christmas displays, shopping til I dropped -- don't want to do that anymore. When I sat down
and thought about what I most valued, it was a few simple things: my father's recitation of a Christmas story; taking
out my grandmother's ornaments which are lovingly packed away and brought out with great ceremony each year; the
candlelight Christmas Eve service at the Wilmington Church; my family playing instruments and singing carols;
opening Christmas morning stockings in front of the fireplace. Other than the stocking stuffers, this didn't cost any
money! Cherished memories: family, friends, music and spiritual values.
What do you remember as treasured or a time you simplified? Share with one or two people around you.
How can we bring simplicity into our lives and banish the frenetic pace of the holidays? Here are some suggestions
that I intend to follow and invite you to join me:
- First, whatever it is we want to have happen we must desire it and seek it out. This is a discipline. .Let's take the
time to order our lives in particular ways.
- Let us refuse to live beyond our means -- and that means both financially and emotionally. Set limits for our
monetary spending -- and think about what it would mean to set emotional limits.
- Let's repudiate the idea that the person "on the go" whose holiday workload is double what any single person can
possible accomplish is a good model. Instead, why don't we list all the things we want to do for the holiday, then
prioritize it into: first -- essential to our well-being; second -- important but not essential; third -- nice but not
necessary and fourth -- trivial. OK, let's eliminate the third and fourth, reduce the first two.
- Commit to the rules we set for ourselves. If we have set Friday is family night, stick to it.
- If one of our values is to make a celebration less self-serving we could consider buying gifts from charitable
organizations, from third-world craft organizations, from our own church's Holiday Gift Corner (It opens today!).
Consider non-material gifts: coupons for time with us -- an hour of deep listening. Give to a charity: Salvation Army,
Boy or Girl Scouts. Support a peace organization such as American Friends Service Committee, or better yet, work in
one of their work camps or a soup kitchen. Take our children or grandchildren along.
- And finally, commit to the discipline of reflection. One of the most powerful disciplines I know is to spend time
in silence, reflecting deeply about what is more important to us. We need not go on a planned spiritual retreat in the
mountains to find silence, though that is certainly one way. We can take a few moments here or there in our day.
Spend time with our mate or our family or a close friend in shared silence to reflect on what choices we want to make
for this holiday season.
In his book Nurturing Silence in a Noisy Heart, Wayne Oates says "Silence is not native to my world. Silence more
than likely, is a stranger to your world too. If you and I are ever going to have silence in our noisy hearts, we are
going to have to grow it . . . You can nurture silence in your noisy heart if you value it, cherish it, and are eager to
nourish it."
So, let us go outside in the early morning and sit on the steps -- maybe even tomorrow morning -- taking in the dawn
light, reflecting on what is important to do that day. Take a moment at bedtime to pray about all we have done that
day, what was nourishing to our soul and what we want to reconsider. Reflect on the rhythms of the day -- was there
both work and rest? Cycles of activity and quiet? How about the cycles of eating (Roger's sermon last week was a
good recipe for conscious awareness of the sacredness of food), the cycles of sleep, the cycles of work, the cycles of
play.
Let us enter this season with intentionality.
May we accept our limitations
We cannot do everything.
May we affirm our power
We can do something.
May we open ourselves to larger hope,
In the silence, in the silence.
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