My Christmas Copernican Revolution

My Christmas Copernican Revolution

“What did I get?”

That’s the question on every child’s mind as he or she awakens on Christmas morning and races to the Christmas tree.  That journey of Christmas morning discovery is joyful, exciting and memorable.  I was looking through some old family pictures and saw picture after picture of my sister, brother and me on Christmas morning in front of the tree, surrounded by Santa loot.  Judging from the looks on our faces, we had found a pretty satisfying answer to the “What did I get?” question. 

“What did I get?” was pretty much the meaning of Christmas for me during those early years of my life.  Yes, I knew the story of the birth of Jesus and could tell it in great detail and with deep personal meaning, but honestly I was more excited about what I would get for Jesus’ birthday. 

My attitude changed one Christmas morning.  I don’t know if I had grown up enough to see things differently or if a new thought just popped into my mind.  On that Christmas morning, my attention momentarily shifted away from taking inventory of my Christmas treasure and I noticed my father sitting across the room watching his three children enjoying the big event.  What I noticed for the first time that Christmas was that Santa, as I understood how Christmas happened, hadn’t left much of anything for my dad.  He opened a gift from my mom, a painfully practical gift by my standards, but not much else.  This realization so gripped me that I spoke up, “Dad, you didn’t get very much for Christmas!” He smiled a knowing smile and answered, “I got everything I wanted.”  I didn’t understand his answer that day.  I didn’t understand how he seemed to enjoy watching me wade through my Christmas goodies as much as if he’d been given such a bounty himself.  But, on that Christmas morning the seeds were planted that led to a revolution in my young mind. 

I’ve heard folks say of self-centered people, “He needs a Copernican revolution!”  Copernicus discovered that our earth is not the center of the universe.  When that discovery is applied to people, it means that we all need to learn that we are not the center of the universe.  Not everything in life is about me. 

My Christmas Copernican revolution was the realization that my Dad measured his Christmas by a question that was the polar opposite of the one I innocently but childishly used.   He didn’t approach Christmas asking “What will I get?” but, instead, “What can I give?”  His Christmas joy came from giving joy to his family.  A few years ago, I wrote a song about my Dad, what I remember about him and learned from him.  Part of that song is based on the lesson I learned that Christmas.

Christmas morning magic;

That top of the wish list toy.

I didn’t notice there wasn’t much for you.

But you just wanted happiness for your daughter and your boys

And a chance to make our Christmas dreams come true. 

Dad came to Christmas asking, “What can I give?”  That attitude is much more harmonious with the meaning of the season.  Christmas happened because God looked upon this world, in need of hope and salvation and asked, “What can I give?”  He gave His best.  He gave His Son.  He gave to make our dreams come true. 

Many years later, writing this as a father and a grandfather, I fully understand how my father, without many gifts to open, got everything he wanted for Christmas.  He received the joy Jesus promised to those who know that the world is bigger than them and that giving, not getting, is the Christmas thing to do.  

Who Would Be Born in a Place Like This?

Christmas Day of 1981 found me as the chaplain on call at Spartanburg Regional Medical Center.  Actually, I had volunteered to work that day.  I was only single guy in the chaplain’s department and I wanted my coworkers to be with their wives and children.  I volunteered for another reason.  This was the first Christmas after dad died and I thought it was better to keep busy and to focus my energies on others.  Christmas Day in the hospital is tough, because all but the sickest patients have gone home.  Those who remain face very serious illness.  As I walked the halls that day, seeing very sick patients around me and feeling terrible pain inside me, I asked myself, Can Jesus be born in a place like this? When I got to the end of that very busy day and looked back at the people and problems I’d seen, I realized that Jesus, in fact, had come into the messy painful places of our hearts. 

He came—to the parents and grandparents of a tragically stillborn child, a family that knew that because of Jesus, they had hope of one day holding their child in heaven. 

He came—to a woman who wanted to go home, but knew that her circumstances were taking her, instead, to a nursing home, a woman who, amid all the unwanted changes in her life, clung to the truth that would not change, the Savior who is forever faithful, the love from which nothing could ever separate her. 

He came—to a man who invited me to share the Christmas that his family had brought to him at the hospital because he couldn’t go home, and we knew he never would. It was a happy day; it was a good day because he knew that every day is a gift from God, every day a gift to share with those you love. 

He came to my family as we faced our first Christmas without my father.

Who would be born in places like that?  The one who was born in a stable.  The Savior of the world.  The Son of God.  Jesus. 

He will be born in you today, if you will only believe that He is born in stables, in far less than perfect places, in sinful broken people like you and me. 

Do you believe that?

Then ask Him, welcome Him, invite Him, and Jesus will be born in you, just as you are. 

 This story is included in my book, The Stories of My Life, a collection of more than 200 life experiences that taught me about the art of living.  You can find the book at Amazon.com and at St. Andrews Baptist Church in Columbia, SC.