“You must help the
weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, that he Himself said, ‘It is
more blessed to give than to receive.’” ~ Acts 20:35
“Love… does not seek
its own, is not provoked, does not remember a wrong suffered.” ~ I Corinthians
13:5
“Our problem is that
we remember the things we should forget, and we forget the things we should
remember.”
It will arrive in the mail, in magazine articles and news
shows, from pulpits and politicians, from friends and family: advice on how to
make this holiday season meaningful, joyful...gracious.
photo by Melissa Rose |
But bear with me for a minute, because I’ve been thinking
about grace lately – the kind that God shows us – absolutely free and
unwarranted mercy. It engenders in us an immense amount of gratitude, or it
should. But God showed us grace while we were still his enemies with the full knowledge that we would never return the favor. We
could never do for him what he did for us.
Jesus made this clear, though: God uses his children to
continue his grace project here on earth. Like I said, I’m all for the big
gestures, the traditional gifts. But God stuff tends to be paradoxical – the kind
of thing that doesn’t immediately make intuitive sense to us.
His yoke is easy; his burden is light
He is the beginning and the end…at the same time
He is the God who wills, fully and completely, and he who
lets our choices matter
The God who cannot abide sin and who took all my sin on
himself to save me
The God who tells me that if I lose all for him, I will have
everything I need; that in order to live, I must die
So far above me, I can’t even imagine where he is, and he is
near, in my heart
So I’ve been thinking that grace – God grace – is paradoxical,
too. I think grace is small and all encompassing, it’s simple and difficult and
mercy in disguise.
The holidays are upon us. We will have guests and be guests.
I’ve surveyed friends and relatives about past holiday experiences and thought
about my own, and I’m thinking these are the perfect conditions for the
creation of grace. So this year…
Smile and kiss your husband on the cheek in gratitude when
he returns with the tub of margarine for your holiday baking instead of the organic
butter you sent him out for.
Without missing a beat, and without one scowl or harsh word,
hand your kids the broom and some everyday plates to replace the good china
they just broke while setting the table.
Ignore the fact that your in-law, trying to help out with
breakfast, is scraping a fork across your best non-stick skillet.
Surreptitiously push to the back of the cupboard that
perfect wine or champagne you spent a bunch of money on, because of the guest
you just found out is struggling with addiction.
Smile with joy and say a heart-felt, “Thank you!”…no matter
the gift.
Welcome the bedraggled extra people that arrive with your
nieces and nephews, unannounced, as if they are your old, dear friends.
Be fine with two gargantuan Golden Retrievers (“Is it okay
if I bring a small pet?” he asked.)
Don’t complain about the rock hard, or abysmally saggy, mattress
your host gave you to sleep on…even a little bit…even with the tiniest of groans
in the morning…even to your spouse.
Concentrate on your hipster relative's conversation, suit coat, goatee, anything but the fedora that he insists on wearing during his entire visit, even at the dinner table.
Remember to remove your hat when you walk into your grandmother's house.
Concentrate on your hipster relative's conversation, suit coat, goatee, anything but the fedora that he insists on wearing during his entire visit, even at the dinner table.
Remember to remove your hat when you walk into your grandmother's house.
Relax and just go with the uncle who has to control
everything: meal times, conversation, the remote, the Xbox.
Despite your gourmet leanings, make the same Thanksgiving
meal your mother made, including the canned sweet potatoes with
mini-marshmallows on top or that weird creamed pea thing—because that’s the
meal that feels like home to everyone.
Even though you love that creamed pea thing, try the new
dish your sister generously provided this year.
Smile fondly at the granddaughter who stares at her smart phone all through dinner.
Have a heart for your older relatives, and turn off your phone for the fifteen minutes it takes to eat the turkey or open the presents.
Now that your granddaughter has turned off her phone, ask her what she's been up to...and don't scoff or smirk...no matter WHAT she says.
Smile fondly at the granddaughter who stares at her smart phone all through dinner.
Have a heart for your older relatives, and turn off your phone for the fifteen minutes it takes to eat the turkey or open the presents.
Now that your granddaughter has turned off her phone, ask her what she's been up to...and don't scoff or smirk...no matter WHAT she says.
Let your whiskery old Aunt, who sees you only rarely, hug
you and kiss you and just laugh when she starts to talk about all the
embarrassing things you did as a child.
Swallow your pride and go home for Christmas, or at least
call. Just because your family doesn’t accept everything about you or love
everything you’ve ever done, that doesn’t mean they don’t want to love you and
it certainly doesn’t mean they are not worthy of your love and unconditional
forgiveness.
Invite the child, relative, or friend who had a falling out
with the family or the one that always cancels at the last minute and don’t be
disillusioned when they cancel again. Based on past experience, they might have good reason. Determine to invite them next year, and
the year after that, and every year until you finally get the chance to welcome
and accept them with open arms, like God welcomed us.
Insert your own holiday experiences of control, irritation
and offense here. Bunch up your hands like you have those experiences in your
fists. Now let them go.
Be revolutionary – defy the lie that silently forgiving an offense or shrugging off an irritation is somehow wrong, or unhealthy, or not "keeping it real." Do all these things, not out of a fear of conflict, or a
sense of martyrdom, or for some future reward in the hereafter, but because
grace is what God gives us, so that’s what we give to each other.
Finally, realize that the odds are you will rarely, if ever,
be given the same mercy, love, or benefit of the doubt that you are about to
give others. Because grace is mercy
freely given.
I can’t guarantee it will all go well or feel good. But you
know all those barriers we tend to build, brick by small brick, between us? The barriers that interfere with our experience of God
and our love of each other? They just might fade away in an atmosphere of
peace, love and joy that will be like waking to a clear day. Your guests' relief and peace most likely won't be attributed to you and with good
reason—are you starting to realize that if grace happens in your home this
holiday season, it won’t be you that was responsible for it?
Just like real love, real mercy, real hospitality—real grace
is beyond our human abilities. For us, Jesus would say, it’s impossible. But
with God, all things are possible.
So here’s my holiday prayer and fervent wish for all of us: Have some love-filled, mercy-filled, grace-filled, GOD-FILLED,
very merry days!
(P.S. If you’re reading this and thinking, “I can’t do this
because God’s never been a part of my holiday tradition,” I have good news! He
wants to be, just ask him. It’s as easy as this, “Creator God, please show me you this holiday
season.”)