The Christmas Letter that was never sent...

So. I sit here to write the annual greeting to the dear ones in our lives that have influenced our hearts over the years. What is it that keeps us connected? Some of you we’ve not seen or communicated with except at Christmas for almost a decade. Some of you are precious family members we wish we could see more often. Some are folks that we see around town and wish we had time to know better. And some are part of the dear community of friends with whom we share our daily lives. Regardless of how tenuous the ties are, we always pour over your cards, letters, and/or pictures, hungry to see and hear the news therein.

And I wonder. I wonder about those of you who sent pictures cards with stamped greetings and no messages. I wonder about those of you who wrote handwritten wishes for a happy season. And mostly, I wonder about those of you who sent letters chronicling your family’s victories and successes. And I wonder, because none of us writes at this time of year, about the difficulties. The private heartaches, the disappointments, the dreams that died slow deaths, the frustration of habits not broken, of resolutions not kept.

And as I sit here, pondering, I catch a glimpse of hope. Because reported or not, I know that each of us has experienced the sadness of living in a world that is not as it should be. And my heart resonates with the truth that God, who set it all in motion, who mourns with us over our brokenness, has found a way to set us free to grow into joy, into peace, and most of all into love.

Many of you may have read the book, Blue Like Jazz. In it Donald Miller tells of hearing a Navy Seal story about the dramatic rescue of hostages. When the soldiers noisily burst through the doors of the prison where the captives had been held for long years they came across a group of silent and bewildered people. A couple of the ragged group became angry and hostile. Unable to believe that the Americans were truly there to rescue them, they refused to follow their would-be heroes to freedom and instead, lay on the floor, cowering or cursing. Finally, one of the Seals had an idea. He put aside his weapon, quietly joined them on the cold concrete, and gazed gently into their eyes. After a time, the inmates began to trust him. When he calmly rose up and walked through the iron bars that had caged them for so long, the broken ones followed him to liberty.

This is the point that the author’s story ends. But I like to imagine what happened to those prisoners as they grappled with new-found freedom. I speculate about the times that they forgot that they no longer had to cower or curse in the face of oppression. I’m curious about the ones who sometimes longed for the safety of the cell over the daunting decisions of independence. And I consider myself to be one of them.

For many years, I made my goal in life to be “right”. I wanted to live the “right” way. It’s a noble goal, when you think about it, and in some ways it is a prison. But you know, I was born and raised in a spiritual home. I was Christian high school and college educated. I attended church regularly, taught Sunday school and started Bible Studies. I sang on worship teams, and went on missions trips. Eventually, I even attained a Master’s degree in ministry. I was encapsulated in a bubble that had me believing that I was part of the “us”, and most others were “them”. But the apostle Paul tells me, that “it's clear enough, isn't it, that we're sinners, every one of us, in the same sinking boat with everybody else? Our involvement with God's revelation doesn't put us right with God. What it does is force us to face our complicity in everyone else's sin.” With all the effort I put into my “involvement with God’s revelation” I missed out on something. The most important thing, the reason why we can’t wait to get your correspondence each year, is lost in the all consuming drive to be right.

Recently, Paul and I and one of his friends were talking about all of the wrongs in our world today. We talked about what the government should do, how the banks need to respond to the economic crisis, and how NATO could promote more peace on the planet. And then we began to talk about how change happens in society. And we decided that it must start with individual hearts, choosing love, choosing repentance, choosing humility, choosing kindness. The idea that came to us is that by trying to live life to be “right” we cannot always love. But in trying to live life to love, we can always be “right”.

And I realize, as I gaze back over the past twelve months that only by the Grace of God is that kind of love possible. Only when we are wooed by his kindness and compassion can we recognize the state of bondage we are in and only as we receive the incredible love He has for us can we possibly be free to accept the state that others are in without judgment or compromise.

And again, the apostle Paul reminds me: “It is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life. Just make sure that you don't use this freedom as an excuse to do whatever you want to do and destroy your freedom. Rather, use your freedom to serve one another in love; that's how freedom grows. For everything we know about God's Word is summed up in a single sentence: Love others as you love yourself. That's an act of true freedom.” As I look at all of the beautiful pictures and read of the victories in your lives, it is tempting to think that none of you has known hardship this year, or struggled with doubt, or sinned knowingly.

And then, at the end of Galatians 5 I read, “Since this is the kind of life we have chosen, the life of the Spirit, let us make sure that we do not just hold it as an idea in our heads or a sentiment in our hearts, but work out its implications in every detail of our lives. That means we will not compare ourselves with each other as if one of us were better and another worse. We have far more interesting things to do with our lives. Each of us is an original.” And that hope of shared life in the Spirit stirs in my heart and emboldens me to share our original stories from 2008.