Celebrating Christmas

a prime spot for watching the Santa Claus parade

Yes it is true. This year I am choosing to celebrate Christmas. I know this might come as a shock, but while the calendar turned a page and the season hit full swing (or at least became kosher for the “it’s always too early for Christmas” crowd), my tree has been up for weeks, the outdoors lights are on (the electrical bill is in the mail) and the Christmas music is loaded on to my ipod in excess.

For those who know me as Mr. Christmas, this “shock” comes with a bit of tongue and cheek. I carried over my passion for the season in to our marriage, and for ten years I have led the way in bringing Christmas spirit to a home that I share with Mrs. “I hate Christmas” Courtney. Well, make that eight. Two years ago our Christmas went dark. No trees, no lights, no baking and no gifts.

We have told the story of that year(s) earlier in our blog. This year a page has turned. There is a new story to tell as a family of three. The wonder of experiencing so many “first’s” with Sasha has revitalized our own sense of what it means to experience the world. We cherish these firsts, as we know all too well how fast each moment seems to pass. Preparing for this first Christmas, HIS first Christmas, is no different. This year I feel a special responsibility to once again lead the way on bringing Christmas spirit to our home.

Now, maybe I am simply more aware, but I have noticed a particular onslaught of posts this year about boycotting our consumerist culture and the gift giving tradition. One such post goes so far as to declare a “cancelation” of Christmas. It has caused me to wrestle with and ponder what it means for us to truly “celebrate” as a family this season, especially with a young mind under our influence. I believe this wrestling has been a positive thing for my own spirit, and as a result of this pondering, the following are three things that I am choosing to celebrate as a family this year:

1. THE OPPORTUNITY TO PASS ON TO MY SON THE SAME CHRISTMAS SPIRIT THAT INSPIRED ME TO WONDER AND IMAGINE AS A KID (AND AS AN ADULT)
My memories of Christmas as a kid are fond. It might not be all sunshine and lollipops, but it was definitely full of flickering lights and candy canes (with a dash of egg nogg here and there of course). Now I’ll be honest. We always had presents under the tree. Another confession: I was always the first one up on Christmas morning arranging these gifts in to appropriate order.

I also had my list of holiday films, which would include watching Miracle on 34^th Street on Christmas morning while I waited (im)patiently for everyone else to get up. On Christmas morning I can remember BIG breakfasts that led the way to a reading of the Christmas story and our eventual gift exchange. It all brought out my best qualities J: which I like to think is my passionate imagination, my penchant for wonder, and my (cheesy) romanticism (sorry Jen, I think I am more cheesy than romantic these days).

 

Many of these memories are long gone. I still feel the loss of old family traditions, even if I still get up early and watch my movie. It was a loss that was more than physical. It was spiritual and symbolic of a larger grieving process of growing older. There have been more than a few moments since that have left me with a feeling that the years ahead seem unattractive at best, and demoralizing and defeating at worst, even when deep down I felt this should not be the case.

I am grateful that when I met Jen I was given a glorious opportunity to rediscover some of that childlike wonder and reform my vision for the future. Falling for someone has a way of resetting the clock (where I got all that energy to court in our dating year at 28 years old I have no idea). And given that she hates Christmas (her Christmas hat reads “Jingle This”), it motivated me to rediscover and pass on something of that Christmas spirit that I had once held in abundance. It was not easy. She might even say I was not successful. And I think she might be half right.

While Jen did not come to share my passion, I admit I also failed to understand the reasons for her disdain. Eight years later when our Christmas went dark, we learnt an important lesson as a couple. A pastor of mine once said that life is a song, and to stop singing is to lose sight of the hope that keeps us moving forward. What the Church represents in this analogy is the power of a song in a common community. In community we are afforded a chance to stumble, to lose our voice. It is the choir that keeps the song moving forward when we have lost the melody. I had tried to keep singing the story of Christmas when Jen could not. But it took me to stop singing to finally learn how to sing together. That song was our adoption. It was the hope for a child when life was telling us different.

Hope is the (sometimes silent and unspeakable) prayer that expects the possible in the midst of the impossible.  Further, hope rearranges our expectations in order to surprise us with something even better than we can imagine on our own, especially when the weight of the world tells us differently . Sasha is our impossible expectation. He is more than we could have imagined. And despite what tomorrow might bring, we know that in this moment we have been given something incredible.

The story of the incarnation is intended to renew our vision for what this world can be. The older I get the harder this is to imagine. But if these past years have taught me anything, it is that no matter how heavy this world gets, god’s vision for our future must stand… and does stand that much taller. And thankfully it is this same truth that can lay claim to our present circumstance as well.

This year I am celebrating the possibility of hope in a world of impossibilities, a reignited sense of that imaginative and wondering spirit that was once alive and well. And above I am celebrating the chance to learn to sing together in a common harmony as a family of 3, even as I continue to do so with the greater family of our surrounding community.

2. CHRISTMAS TEACHES US TO BOTH GIVE AND RECEIVE

The giving of gifts is often the first thing that gets targeted in posts about boycotting Christmas and campaigns against the evils of consumerism. Confession: we are choosing to put gifts under the tree this Christmas. I’ll be honest. I don’t remember Christmas as a kid being an issue of abundance. As a child it is how I l learned the value of giving and receiving freely. As a father of a son who is still learning what it means to have his own room, I am hoping for an opportunity to teach the same values.  That is to give generously and not begrudgingly, and to likewise receive willingly and openly without the burden of guilt or comparison.

For me the lesson of gift giving and receiving is a way of knowing and being known in community. We sing a common song, but we also sing as unique individuals. To give and receive makes you vulnerable. It forces you to recognize the identity and character of another. It also forces you to be open with others about who you are, to share your passions and your interests freely. Sometimes I think this gets lost in the trappings of a consumerist culture where gift giving can seem about dollars and obligation rather than creativity and meaning.

Sasha on his first day of school

Jen on Sasha's first day of school

For me, travelling to the Ukraine taught me this lesson in a way I did not expect. Ukraine continues to struggle with the reality of an oppressed history and the fight for a free future. If you can forgive the political terminology, it is something of a case study in the ongoing tension between socialist mentalities and capitalist function. I might be wrong, but here is how I have come to understand it through my conversations with Ukrainians: Socialism (at it’s most positive heart) is about maintenance and survival. It speaks to their oppression. It guides their capacity for sharing and their tendency for rationing. Capitalism (at its most positive heart) is about growth and progress. For them it represents the vision of a free culture. Where one builds a necessary foundation (they are a stronger people because of their history and experience), the other builds on this foundation as a celebration of their identity (they desire to be free to express and live out who they are). Another word for identity is CULTURE. At its core, culture is that common community, that common song that echoes from a communion of unique individuals.

Interestingly, I discovered that it has been the philosophers and writers, the poets and the artists who have led the way forward for Ukraine whenever a positive page has managed to turn. Beyond the oppression, these “artists” have allowed us to see a people who are celebrated by their dress (and what wonderful colours they represent), their food (which goes much further than borscht, for as good as the borscht is) their traditions and their beliefs. I had the privilege of getting to know some of these passions and interests both in the context of community and in the stories of individuals. And I remain grateful for what they taught me and what they were willing to share, even as they themselves continue to hope for that eventual gift of freedom.  

Learning to give and receive is a lesson that has hit us ten fold in our early months as parents. While I have come to recognize the necessary level of self sacrifice that parenting requires (and have strived to embrace it joyfully), in some ways it has been the practice of receiving that has been much harder. It has been overwhelming and consistently humbling to experience and reflect on the amount of support we have received from friends and family. You have all willingly listened to our story and faithfully journeyed with us along the way. We are left with few words in response, and we know we cannot begin to repay everyone in our lifetime. And yet we continue to move forward in the freedom that grace affords, understanding that with what we have been given we now have greater opportunity to give this Christmas season.

For me, celebrating Christmas this year is about facing the reality of our consumerist culture and acknowledging the tension between oppression and identity. I believe we can learn to face it while also upholding a greater value. Our adoption has taught me to recognize oppression and to respond to it. Thankfully it also taught me to see past my son’s own personal oppression and towards his identity as a free individual. We have said this before, but our adoption was not about saving our son. It was about an opportunity to share in his story. To this end, I am choosing to put gifts under the tree, to light up our house, to bring out the Christmas baking and watch holiday films all because it affords me an opportunity to get to KNOW the CULTURE of my son and to share my culture with him, even as I continue to cultivate this same relationship with my wife and others. Our cultures may have once been separate by miles and ocean, but the task of knowing is still just as great an opportunity from two doors over.

3. RENEWED AND NEW TRADITIONS CREATE LASTING MEMORIES

Our first few months as a family have been about celebrating many firsts. It has also been about establishing our own traditions. This holiday time has sparked conversation in our household about the possibilities of what this can look like over the Christmas season. We are dreaming up ideas such as a perogie making day, getting inspired by the onslaught of holiday fare on the food network by planning a baking day, introducing him to tobogganing and skating, indulging in holiday movies and late night camp outs in the living room, making Christmas shoe boxes together, doing our own holiday lights tour, connecting with his orphanage back in Izmail, utilizing the 12 meatless dishes of Christmas Eve, candle lighting with the inlaws, Christmas day brunch, celebrating Ukrainian Christmas, and perhaps most importantly taking a familiar (for me) road trip to Toronto to introduce Sasha to my extended family in the same way we did when I was a kid.

A big part of my Christmas memories growing up was the opportunity to see and visit my extended family once a year. Confession: It has been many years since I have kept up this investment. There have been many marriages and births that have changed the landscape since the last time I went. We will also be travelling with the knowledge that my Grandpa is not doing well. This may be our final opportunity to see him, and it may be our only chance to introduce Sasha. Add to this the news that a close family friend may not have much time left on this earth and we are left with this realization: Life is a hard song to sing. And yet for me, retracing the footsteps of my childhood memories feels like an incredibly hopeful endeavour. For me I am celebrating the opportunity to create new memories as a family, an opportunity to reignite some of the wonder and excitement that the last few years have seemed to steal, and to reconnect with those things that makes life meaningful.

I have always lived by the mantra that memories are the most important investment one can make. It is my hope that Christmas can become a positive memory in the life of Sasha in the same way that it was for me, a reminder that despite some of the tragic memories he undoubtedly carries from his own past and that he will face continue to face as he grows older, that he can still hope in a greater vision for his future. That no matter how tough life gets he is still free to dream and imagine and wonder in the offerings of the moment.  

WISHING EVERYONE A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS

I sincerely wish everyone a very merry Christmas and a wonderful holiday season. May it be filled with the joy of memory making and celebrating new and old traditions. May it come with the anticipation of celebrating our communion in Christ but also celebrating our communion with each other as unique identities and individuals. Let us all learn to give and receive wholly and joyfully this season in the ways that make sense for us, and let us always remember that power of the song that keeps us moving forward.