Let's Not Just Pass By

Two weeks ago I was walking down at the soccer fields near my house. I like to go there on Fridays to do my prayer walking because the mile-long sidewalk that skirts the fields is nice and level. I can think about what I'm praying without having to look out for uneven surfaces or potholes like I do when I walk on the street.

Usually.

That Friday was different. I had quickened my pace as I was approaching my last lap. There was a young man heading toward me traveling in the opposite direction, so I moved over from the center of the sidewalk to the right to let him pass. When I did, I accidentally caught my toe on a small rise, and down I went... right in front of him!

There I was, sprawled out on the concrete, stunned a bit by what just happened and trying to get my bearings to assess any bodily damage, when I looked up just in time to see him pass right by me.

There was no, "Oh, my goodness, are you OK?" ... no, "Can I help you up?"

Nothing.

I honestly don't know if I was more shocked by the fall or by the apparent lack of basic manners and chivalry. Two ladies about my age came running over to check on me and offer assistance, which was a nice surprise and helped restore my faith in humanity somewhat.

The young man had been looking at his phone just before I fell. Perhaps he was self-absorbed. Unaware. I'd much prefer to think that than that he simply did not care.

I skipped my walk last Friday as we had family visiting for Thanksgiving, but I was back at it today armed with my little flip phone (just in case) and a keen eye for those little, unexpected rises!

It did get me thinking though about how oblivious we can sometimes be to things going on around us. Take this Advent season and the coming celebration of Christmas, for example. I ventured out a couple days ago to do a little shopping for presents for the grandchildren. I figured it was early enough in December to beat the crowds. Apparently I was wrong. I guess if it's not pre-December, you're late, late, LATE!

Anyway, on my walk today I thought about those shoppers and the crowded stores... the Christmases past when I myself have been running and rushing, wrapping and baking at a frenzied pace. Oh, I have always kept the real meaning of why we celebrate at the forefront of my mind, I thought. Yet... Yet somehow each Christmas came and went and I felt as though I had not lingered enough at the manger to have had it impact my heart in a truly meaningful way.

It wasn't that I didn't care... it was more like I was just a bit... self-absorbed, distracted.

Ahhh, there it is. The same culprit that stole that young man's attention from my need that Friday had been the very thing responsible for stealing what I needed most.

It's easy for that to happen, isn't it?

As the song says, "It's the most wonderful time of the year." There are concerts to attend and parties to enjoy. Christmas cookies to bake for the neighbors. Cards and letters to send out in the mail to friends and family. All of that periphery takes up time, demands space, leaves little enough room for the real magic of Christmas, the only true thing of wonder.

A number of years ago I wrote a little article for our church's newsletter at Christmas. I thought I'd share a portion of it here, because it so perfectly illustrates how we can get caught up in all the doing while forgetting the thing most needful.

Here is that portion as follows:

"If you've ever watched that children's Christmas special "A Charlie Brown Christmas" you may have noticed that at the climax of the program (after all the singing, the dancing, the rehearsing, the searching for the perfect pink, aluminium Christmas tree) Charlie Brown asks in frustration and desperation, "Is there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?!" At just that moment when both his voice and the chaos on screen come to a fevered pitch, the action STOPS. Everything is still.

Then Linus replies, "Sure, Charlie Brown, I can tell you what Christmas is all about," and as he begins his soliloquy with the words, "Lights, please," there is a hushed silence that overtakes the space. Nothing else is happening as he begins to recite the familiar Scripture passage from Luke, chapter two. Nothing averts our gaze from the spotlight zero-ing in closer and closer to center stage where the real meaning of Christmas, the birth of the Savior of the world, is being retold. That moment is magical. It was Charles Schulz's purpose in creating that story line. It was God's purpose too, to draw us in. That's what Christmas really is all about, isn't it?"

It might not be hard to miss a tiny baby in a humble stall when we're looking around at all that screams and sparkles. We have to focus our gaze on what quietly and unassumingly draws us in.

There is much that is wonderful and magical about this time of year, it's true, but if we're not paying attention, if we allow ourselves to become distracted by all the glittery periphery, we might just accidentally pass by the only true magic and wonder, the child in a manger...

lying right in front of us.