Christmas

"God did not enter the world of our nostalgic, silent-night, snow-blanketed, peace-on-earth, suspended reality of Christmas. God slipped into the vulnerability of skin and entered our violent and disturbing world."

—Nadia Bolz-Weber

Last December, I was on the treadmill at the gym, more overwhelmed by the news on multiple screens in front of me than by the burning in my legs. I caught snippets through closed captions: war in Ukraine and Gaza, floods in the Philippines, one screen demonizing Republicans, the next chastising Democrats. The nature channel showed animals hunting each other. Even sports channels seemed full of controversy.

Thank goodness for the Food Network.

We began this Advent together, talking about practices that help us sustain faith in a vulnerable world. I remember calling a spiritual friend when I left the gym to ask what my responsibility was—to absorb and process and confront the magnitude of suffering in our world.

Her wisdom was to remind me that we are the first generation in history to know the breadth and depth of disturbance and violence in our world in real time. Our nervous systems, she said, were not built for this.

As I travel through Advent this year, I'm more aware than ever that the world has always been and will always be vulnerable. Like Jesus, we exist in vulnerable skin in a violent and disturbing world. Not only is it true, but it's an ever-present reality in the news, on social media, and in the lives of our friends and family.

Which is precisely why Advent reminds us: Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love are equally present in our reality.

I'm realizing that as I've pursued spiritual practices to sustain my faith in this vulnerable world, I also lived with a naïve assumption—that these same practices would somehow transform the world from vulnerability to security.

That's not the promise of Christmas, or the example of Christ.

Our challenge is to engage the world, this present moment, with Hope as bold as the prophets, Peace as enduring as silent night, Joy as fierce as a new mother's, and Love as eternal as the stars. Our faith is not that these practices will remove the vulnerability of our communities or our world, but that we will have the strength and courage to stand in solidarity in precisely those places that are tender, at risk, and wounded.

A Practice for Christmas

Today, light a candle. As you watch the flame, hold two truths together:

The world is broken, violent, and vulnerable.

God entered this world anyway.

Breathe in the sorrow you carry for our world.

Breathe out your commitment to stand with Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love.

You don't have to fix everything. You don't have to save everyone. You simply have to show up—present, beloved, and willing to stand in solidarity with what is tender.

This is the work of Christmas. This is the work of a lifetime.

May you know peace in this season. May you trust that you are beloved. And may you have the courage to keep showing up in this vulnerable, beautiful, heartbreaking world.

Merry Christmas.