In 1969 Peggy Lee made her song “Is That All There Is?” famous. Her sarcastic question and “eat, drink and be merry” attitude tapped into the hopelessness that permeated the culture of the late 60’s.
Almost
50 years later, the question is still appropriate to ask and the hopelessness we
felt then still raises its ugly head in the 21st century, especially
this time of year. When the Christmas tree comes down and the presents are
unwrapped, forgotten or returned, we are prone to scratch our head and ask, “Is
that all there is?” Did we endure the holiday displays since early October, the
Black Friday and Cyber Monday sales and the maxing out of our credit cards just
to pack it all away again in red and green tubs for next year? Did all of the
hype, decorating and buying make any lasting difference at all? If that’s all
there was to your holiday…then probably not.
I’m sure I’m not alone
when I say, each year I find myself being tempted to move further and
further away from the things that matter and make a lasting impression. In a
disposable world we have disposable holidays. The day after Christmas,
left-over stock is disposed of quickly by reducing the prices by 70% and
Valentine’s Day cards hit the shelves. They too will be disposed of in like
manner in favor of Easter bunnies and chocolate eggs. It is no wonder we find
ourselves becoming numb to the days and seasons which should be transformative
in our lives. We like to lay the blame at commercialism’s door but I wonder if
the real culprit is not a Grinch’s heart which has grown cold with time and whose
door is simply stuck closed, prohibiting us from opening our lives to the
spirit of the seasons.
I love living in places
where there are four seasons each year. Seasons signify change, change with a
purpose, change that cannot be rushed by the calendar, change which shows in
the skies, trees and temperatures. Seasons are good, they are God-ordained and
perpetuate the cycle of life. Our lives should adjust to the seasons, not the
other way around.
Yet that is exactly what
happens as I walk through aisles of the big box stores. They attempt to dictate
what I should feel and when. Well, I cannot change what department stores and
mega-chains do but I can determine whether or not it will have an unhealthy effect
on me. I can make the decision to not
allow others with ulterior motives to set my holiday agenda. I can choose to
slow down and light the candles of Advent as my spirit dictates and to pause on
Good Friday to remember the sacrifice that preceded new life and a glorious new
beginning. I can keep the door of my heart well-oiled with God’s Spirit and
keep my heart tender with daily doses of His Word.
I guess my goal, my heart-felt
desire is to come to the end of this season and say, “Wow! What a glorious
holiday that was! How wonderful it was to sing the carols, light the candles,
exchange love-bought gifts and get chills every time I saw a crèche.” Holidays
(holy days) should change us for the better, not make us more cynical. They should
encourage pauses and contemplation, not rushing around frantically looking for
one last gift.
Instead of throwing up
our hands next year and saying, “Is that all there is?” what if we are so
impacted and transformed by the season that our attitude was, “Go tell it on
the mountain, that Jesus Christ is born!”
