by Brian Blair
Unfortunately, I have become accustomed to Christmas devotional-style books as collections of feel-good essays that add a predictable, pat-on-the-back warmth to the season.
So you could imagine my reaction when a copy of Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas hit my desk recently.
I could guess what lay inside its cover — sweet, predictable stories about how the baby Jesus makes everything all better.
Not that I'm a cynic.
It's just that I have caught myself on automatic pilot when perusing Christmas works in recent years. And I've felt that many of them gloss over the biblical Christmas story, missing the fact that it features far more than mere glad tidings.
But I opened Watch for the Light to a middle page, a practice I've used for years with new books.
And I found the following in-your-face words from pastor William Willimon: “No one can celebrate a genuine Christmas without being truly poor. The self-sufficient, the proud, those who, because they have everything, look down on others, those who have no need even of God — for them there will be no Christmas.”
Strong words.
But if scripture is true stating that God hates a haughty spirit, is Willimon not right that independent folks miss the point of the Christian celebration?
Clearly, this is hardly your father's book of Christmas essays from a publisher that describes itself as “quirky.”
The volume, I quickly discovered, boasts an all-star collection of writers: C.S. Lewis, Thomas Aquinas, Soren Kierkegaard, Henri Nouwen, Thomas Merton, Madeleine L'Engle, Brennan Manning and many more.
These wordsmiths challenge believers to take comfort in Jesus' birth, yes. But they also do what the best of scripture does: poke a finger in the reader's chest and ask, “Now, what are you going to do with this?”
For instance, Manning theorizes that, to feel the true impact of Christ's coming, one must feel like a desperate shipwreck victim, ready to cling frantically to a savior.
Too often, I sadly find my desperation is hidden deep beneath a measure of financial stability, insurance policies and range of contingency plans for my life. How then can I possibly know the desperation of one who needs a savior?
German theologian and martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who knew something about courage and boldness in the age of Hitler, gets my attention with a single line: “The coming of God is truly not only for glad tidings but first of all frightening news for everyone who has a conscience.”
Whether readers accept that or not, the writer has launched a hand-grenade of explosive thought that demands a direct response.
Late Catholic priest Henri Nouwen highlights God's premium on the beauty of waiting during Advent in a microwave world of the immediate. And Nouwen encourages readers to look to patient, biblical characters such as Mary and Elizabeth to find worth and meaning in extended waiting — without knowing the details of what's coming.
“To wait open-endedly is an enormously radical attitude toward life,” Nouwen writes. “So is to trust that something will happen to us that is far beyond our imaginings.”
Therein lies another reason Watch For the Light goes beyond my original, misguided imaginings.
If nothing else, the book offers that Jesus' earthly entrance was far from a Rockwell rendering to soothe our hearts.
And its writers remind me that the Bethlehem star shines on one born in a stinky barn with probably equally smelly animals in a chilly atmosphere that would hardly qualify even as a spartan motel room.
From those rather junky surroundings, surely this Jesus can understand the trash in my life.
It's hard to put that into a scrubbed-clean carol. But as we approach the Advent season beginning Dec. 2, I pray it's a concept I'll keep in my heart.
Brian Blair is a Republic reporter. He can be reached at bblair@therepublic.com.
This article appears courtesy of The Republic of Columbus, Indiana.
Editor's Note: Excerpts from Watch for the Light can be found in Catholic Exchange's Vocations Channel.
