The day after Christmas

It’s the day after Christmas. Shredded ribbons and torn wrappings fill the trash. Only crumbs remain of carefully arranged trays of baked goods. The first toy has broken and the last of yesterday’s feast promises to be tonight’s supper of leftovers.
It’s the day after Christmas and the roads again hum as commuters return to work and shoppers scramble to shop the after-Christmas sales. The lines at the return counters attest to the fact that again this year you did not find the perfect gift. Already in some homes the colorful lights and festive decorations have returned to storage.
Christmas is past.
And just like the first Christmas, the harshness of real life could easily eclipse the wonders, the miracles and the angelic appearances that surrounded that long-ago birth in a barn. For the past month, we reveled in the wonder of shepherds arriving in Bethlehem, flushed with excitement at having seen angels. We listened to the history of the magi who traveled from afar to worship the child and present him with their rich gifts.
And now, the day after Christmas, the rest of the story must be told because the Christmas story would not be needed without the ugly realities of life embodied in King Herod.
The astrologers from the East saw the skies announce the birth of a great king. They traveled a long distance to see him. Because the stars announced a king, they arrived in the land of Israel and went to the capital city looking for the king. According to Matthew 2, they asked everywhere, “saying, ‘Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we saw His star in the east and have come to worship Him.’ When King Herod heard this, he was deeply disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. So he assembled all the chief priests and scribes of the people and asked them where the Messiah would be born. ‘In Bethlehem of Judea,’ they told him, ‘because this is what was written by the prophet.”
Herod gave his most politically correct smile, feigned his earnest interest, told the magi to look for the child in Bethlehem and urged them, “When you find Him, report back to me so that I too can go and worship Him.”
That’s what Herod said. Yet all the while, he fully intended to destroy this threat to his throne. Herod jealously guarded his throne. Any whisper of a takeover and the usurper died.
Warned by an angel to go home another way, the wise men did not return. They left Herod to stew. Herod did not stew for long. He feared a young child. Herod exploded with commands ordering his soldiers to go to Bethlehem and kill every boy two and under. His jealousy brought grief and misery to many. He did not want to even think of anyone else being on his throne, not ever.
As with Herod, so too for many of us on this day after Christmas as the quest to get everything returns in full force. Children squabble over toys, TV shows and electronic games. Adults close the boardroom door to plot a takeover or another ad campaign to wipe out their competition just as Scrooge did for many years with his partner Marley.
That decisive Christmas for Scrooge might have been another day off begrudgingly bestowed on his clerk Bob Cratchit if the spirits of Christmases Past, Present and Future had not visited him through the night.
As the last spirit of Christmas points to his tombstone, Scrooge falls down. “Spirit,” he cried, “Why show me this, if I am past all hope?”
For the first time the hand (of the spirit) appeared to shake.
“Good Spirit,” he pursued, as down upon the ground he fell before it: “Your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life.”
The kind hand trembled.
“I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone.”
Scrooge got the lesson. We have heard his story, and seen it played out on stage, television and Ipads. We have heard the carols promising a Savior, and worshipped in churches filled with pine boughs and poinsettias as the story of the Messiah unfolded before us.
Is it just the day after Christmas for you? Will you, like Herod, return to the status quo and bar the Promised One from your country and business for another year? Or will you, like Scrooge, wake up today promising to keep the spirit of Christmas in your heart all the year?


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One response to “The day after Christmas”

  1. Joan Avatar
    Joan

    Sandra Maguire wrote on Facebook: Loved your column this week…be sure it goes in the keeper file.