“Hey, Theodore?” The abbot called from his place near the stove. “Just so you know, we can’t allow assault rifles in the monastery.”
I got it. I mean, it made sense. It’s one of those things you should probably just know. I would make sure nobody I know brings assault rifles to the monastery.
Just so everyone’s clear, he really said that to me, but he was referring to the Airsoft rifles I got my son for Christmas. Even if the guns have those annoying orange tips signaling that they’re gelded weapons, we can’t run the risk of neighbors thinking we’re starting up a militia over here. That, and—oh yeah—even simulated spec ops training kind of departs from the mission of the monastery.
Sigh. Whatever happened to the spirit of Christmas?
Do you remember the last time Christmas meant something special? Is losing that feeling just a normal grown-up thing? I guess the shine kind of wears off when Christmas becomes that time of year you go broke buying things for everyone else in exchange for socks (if you’re lucky.)
This year I got a scarf and a phone case, which I’m very happy with. They’ll replace the scarf and phone case my kids stole from me.
Don’t worry—it’s not that kind of post. I’m in a pretty good mood, although it has nothing to do with Christmas. I was just thinking about my kids’ enthusiasm for the day and wondering when that ended for me. When I went off to college? When I became the man of the house? It’s a time lost in the fog of memory…
If anything, Christmas, or rather, the Feast of the Nativity, has some actual meaning for me for a change.
One of the things we frequently read about in the monastery is “transformation.” Christianity isn’t simply about moral improvement. It’s not about “the rules.” (Don’t misunderstand me—I’m not saying that there are no “rules.”) For us here in the East, it’s about theosis—a word I’d never even heard for at least the first 40 years of my life. It literally means “divinization, or becoming God-like. (Or is it god-like? Not sure. I’m still a noob). We’re not living this life to better comply with some divine code of ethics, but to actually, literally BECOME something transcendent.
It’s an easy distinction to miss. Sure, most of us have heard we should be more “Christ-like,” but I think most of us always think of that in terms of being kinder to each other. Non-judgemental. I, at least, never thought of it in terms of being, you know, “being so filled with grace that my will is indistinguishable from God’s will.”
I should back away from this entirely because I am hardly the right person to articulate it. I feel like I’m discovering Christianity for the first time, here in my fifth decade of maaaaaaybe passably observant faith.
Nonetheless, this year is less about cute images of Jesus in a barn, evoking obligatory feelings of reverence, and more about the realization of what the Incarnation is. And beyond that, it starts to unravel the meaning of the Crucifixion and Resurrection, something—to be completely honest—I’ve never really understood. It always seemed like some kind of divine performance to dazzle the Earth-bound rubes.
I don’t know. I’m struggling here. Something is emerging, but every time I try to grab it, it turns to smoke in my hand. On the whole, I think it’s a good thing. Call it “conversion,” I suppose. Weird to think that I’m “converting” at nearly 51-years-old, but I don’t have a better word for it. Suffice it to say that despite many things that are decidedly not joyful this year (like spending the first Christmas without any family in 18 years), it’s by far the most beautiful and reverent one I can remember. (No, one does not follow the other there).
Suffice it to say, for now, “Christ is born! Glorify Him!”
He came as a humble servant to us - to His creation that can never earn or deserve such Love - all the while knowing all our faults and loving us anyway. He chose us and we are His.