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Christmas

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The Magic of the Holiday Season?


A mural from the Cultural Center of Batahola Norte in Managua, Nicaragua —
a community-based education and arts project that directly serves over 2,500
impoverished children and adults each year (www.friendsofbatahola.org).

I’m hearing a lot about “the magic of the holiday season” this Christmas. But there’s a dissonance in all those ringing bells…and I’m struggling with it. The past year’s tune has been all economic crisis, all the time. Merriam-Webster even named “austerity” their 2010 Word of the Year.

Just like we managed to convince ourselves before the economic crisis that we were wealthier than we really were, I believe that over the last year, we’ve convinced ourselves that we are having tougher times than we actually are. Yes, I understand that there are lots of Americans in tough economic straits. It’s heartbreaking that, in the midst of such wealth, there is so much real and painful need. But everything is relative ‘ especially material need. And as a society, by any measure but our own, we are incredibly wealthy. America is as fat as Santa.

Giving with a generous heart is one of the joys of life. It’s the spirit of Christmas. From re-reading “The Gift of the Magi” to watching TV news spots celebrating modern-day good Samaritans, ’tis the season for heartwarming stories of gift-giving. It makes me want to go out and hug a hobo.

And yet, even as our society celebrates heroic gift-givers, we neglect to see crippling need in our midst. We can gift-give ourselves into a “magical holiday season”…but come out the other end still ignoring an unacceptable gap between rich and poor. Where’s Tiny Tim come February?

I could spend the holidays anywhere I like. And I’m giving myself a very special treat: Christmas in Nicaragua. Every time I spend Christmas in the poor world, I’m struck by a different “magic of the season.” I see that I live in an affluent society that operates with a mindset of scarcity, while ‘ strikingly ‘ the people I meet there operate with a mindset of abundance. Rather than focusing on what they don’t have, they appreciate what they do have.

While this year many American families are confronted with cutbacks for Christmas, imagine a Nicaraguan family living in corrugated tin shack next to a Managua garbage dump. Tidying their dirt floor and preparing their simple Christmas dinner of beans and rice, they sing songs together and feel blessed that their family has survived another year. Why, with all the trappings of our wealthy society, do we have more trouble counting our blessings than those who have virtually nothing?

This is not a holiday guilt trip; there are just different ways to wrap your love. For me, it’s a gift to gain empathy for people on the other side of the tracks. That’s why, today, I’m flying into a Managua Christmas. As Santa jingle-jangles across the sky, I plan to be in a “mi casa es su casa” home served by one dangling light bulb…yet filled with light and inspiration.

In the New Year, we’ll be hearing lots about “austerity.” A budget-crisis mentality will see many of the compassionate features of our society stripped away. The loss won’t dramatically affect people who can afford to travel to Europe. But for others, it’ll mean a miserly world and a much tougher life. It’s my New Year’s resolution to operate not with a mindset of scarcity (as the media will certainly encourage me to do), but to live my life and do my work with a mindset of abundance. In 2011, I’ll be mindful of how fortunate we still are in this great country. I’ll strive to keep the “spirit of Christmas” alive in a broader, societal way, beyond the immediate gift-giving that makes me feel so warm and cozy.

While I’m south of the border, I won’t be blogging. But I’ll fill you in on my adventures immediately upon my return. In the meantime, I’d love to read your examples of how holidays you’ve spent far away have given you a different take on “the magic of the season” or inspired creative New Year’s resolutions.

Merry Christmas ‘ or, as I’ll be saying, Feliz Navidad!

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Honky-Tonk Cowbell for Christmas?

I finally found my niche. At our staff Christmas party, the band needed a little percussion support for “Honky-Tonk Woman.” Always one to help out when needed, I picked up the cowbell and did me best. The party was going strong enough so that the damage done was negligible. It’s my hope that there’s a little honky-tonk togetherness in all of your holiday parties this year. And I’m thankful this season for a staff that knows how to dance!

You can also watch this clip on YouTube.

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A Christmas Greeting from Rick

For me, Christmas is more than a beautiful time of year.
It’s a powerful time of year.
We’re reminded of our humanity —
the hows and whys of our lives.
We’re reminded — whether we like it or not —
of the rich blessings of friends and family.
We’re reminded of triumphs and failures, gains and losses
in our families, communities, and world.
I think we’re blessed, thrilled, nagged, or annoyed
by the story of the first Christmas
and the presence of our maker in our lives.
For me, with the grey blanket of a Seattle winter solstice as a backdrop, I become more keenly aware of my blessings
and the importance of taking time to survey and appreciate the things that combine to make our reality.
While things get revved up at holiday time,
celebrate the silence, too.
When silence strikes, make it a gift.
Have a wonderful holiday.
I hope you can make it one you’ll long remember
warmly and happily.

Merry Christmas
May 2009 be looked upon as a springboard for a wonderful 2010

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Politicizing Christmas?

Here at ETBD, we enjoy putting on a fundraiser each Christmas. I always feel like there are gimmicky “buy this, and we’ll give hungry people a can of food” initiatives that are really marketing ploys that do little serious awareness- or fund-raising. So I like to try to inspire well-meaning businesses to do something a little gutsier.

I also like to help people stretch their charitable imaginations in the process. This year, my hope is to raise money to empower Bread for the World (a Christian lobby group in Washington DC that works with Christians and non-Christians of all stripes to speak up for hungry people), and at the same time: 1) help people learn the difference between charity and advocacy, and 2) point out that much American foreign aid is still a tool of our military and determined by Cold War-era priorities and needs.

This year I offered our three European Christmas products (the DVD of the show, the CD, and the book) for free including shipping to anyone willing to give Bread for the World $100.

We sent this offer to 200,000 people on our e-list. About 500 responded, sending Bread about $60,000. I don’t know if 1/400th is a good ratio. But that’s both a lot of people supporting Bread, and a lot of money for their work.

The night we sent out the offer (a week ago), we had a huge response, but there was a glitch in the electronic order form. Hundreds of people donated, and their orders were lost. I was really sad about what to do. While we hate to pester people needlessly with our e-list, we decided we had to re-send the offer to explain the problem, apologize, and ask people to re-submit their order. I don’t know how many people we lost, but nearly 300 logged back on to re-do their orders. We were relieved.

Anyway, today we are mailing out nearly 600 packages. This is my Christmas present to myself this year. If you’d like to learn about the initiative, click here.

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Souvenirs on a Christmas Tree

Our lives arc like parabolas. Just when our kids have gotten older and no longer enjoy the ritual of decorating the Christmas tree, my parents are coming to an age when they do. It occurred to me that my Mom would enjoy the toyland-wonder of selecting ornaments from our big box and — with favorite carols playing — hanging them just so on our tree.

As we shared in the creative decision-making, I took a trip down memory lane with my Mom and realized there was lots of meaning in our decorations.

There’s the little nurse and the woven Irish clover for Anne and a football player ready to throw a long bomb for Andy. A few little beach treasures and baked and painted goodies remind us of Jackie’s preschooler days. The tiny “Julens Sanger” Norwegian carol book, with its red, blue, and white flag cover, represents my family heritage. The green and red skates with the paper-clip blades were knit 20 years ago by my grandmother before her last Christmas. I remember for Grandma, Europe was as far away as the moon. Every time I packed my rucksack and headed off for Europe, her imagination would set her eyes twinkling, and she’d say, “Ooh la la…gay Pareeeee.”

There’s some artful give-and-take to our tree ritual. I let Anne crown the tree with an angel (which I find gaudy, and always seems to be being goosed by the tip of the tree). And Anne lets me drape the tree with the ancient string of popcorn I strung with an old girlfriend back in high school. (Popcorn lasts forever if you don’t eat it.) I also sneak in another souvenir from an old romance…a Japanese girlfriend gave me a kami(or god) in an exquisite little red sack that I hang as a tiny tip of the hat to Shinto on our Christmas tree. The funky cardboard “angel heads with sunglasses” struggle in their dogged battle against conformity.

From our living room, you wouldn’t know I’ve ever ventured outside the Pacific Northwest…except at Christmas, when the little treasures that hang on our tree serve as souvenirs. Two little red carved birds on a thread remind me of my early “Europe through the gutter” days. (I dropped into the trendy Marimekko shop in Helsinki, and that’s all I could afford.) And, much as I find the Käthe Wohlfahrt Christmas shop in Rothenburg a tourist trap, we dangle several delightful German-style painted wax and delicately carved trinkets from just the right branches.

We hang several little manger scenes both to keep the Christ in Christmas and, for me, to remember the politics of the Christ child…born poor in a manger under the tyranny of an empire to bring hope to the downtrodden. And, in that vein, the smallest ornament is perhaps my favorite — a tiny carved and varnished cross I picked up one Christmas season in Nicaragua, which hangs on a long black thread from the highest possible branch. It reads paz con social justicia.

Finally, my Mom and I stood back and surveyed the tree. We tweaked a few ornaments, adjusted the popcorn like the train on a wedding dress, and stood back again. Our task was done, and she said, “Good job…it’s pretty.”