This is part of an article published 35 years ago in US Catholic Magazine. It is still so relevant, maybe even more so now. Why do we race around the week before Christmas buying expensive gifts as if it were a rite of preparation for the coming of the Lord? Jesus did not say we would recognize him in the breaking of the bank. And in fact it becomes very difficult to recognize him when we spend most of the season fighting crowds and fatigue.
Mostly we get trapped. It’s not that we intend to be swept up by the needless overconsumption of the season. It’s that we haven’t stopped to think about the season ahead of time and make sense of it. We haven’t stopped to choose what kind of Christmas we would like to have.
We’ve been trapped into thinking we have to act in a certain way during the season. Advertisers pull out the heavy artillery at Christmas, bombarding us with messages that say, “The only way to celebrate is to buy these shiny, expensive gifts.”
But Christmas is for sharing. We’re remembering, reliving, celebrating the moment in history when our God shared himself by entering humanity and living with us, as us.
Often that sense of sharing is lost in the helter-skelter rush to prepare for Christmas. We are pressed for time; it is all we can do to get through our foot-long gift lists. We don’t have time for people; we’re not able to pay much attention to their needs at a time when those needs might be most critical.
Maybe that’s why so many people experience a profound sense of loneliness at Christmas. It’s a kind of cruel reversal of the point of Christmas in the first place. The least it could do is cheer us out of our winter doldrums. Instead it seems to intensify them.
Is there a way off the mad Christmas merry-go-round? It’s difficult, maybe impossible, to make a change alone. The cycle of rushing and spending, spending and rushing, is imbedded in our culture. Going against the grain alone is a very unpopular thing to do. Friends might be hurt at not receiving the kind of gifts they are used to receiving; family members might resent your refusal to “pull your fair share” in the gigantic Christmas effort. You might come off as a stingy, lazy humbug.
The only hope of regaining Christmas is to do so in community. It can start with the family, the core of the Christmas celebration, sitting down and talking about what has gone wrong with the season. Common themes begin to emerge: too many gifts, too much money spent, too much time and energy for all the wrong things, too much work and not enough Jesus.
I am just beginning to dive into the beautiful, ancient devotion to the Five Wounds of Jesus, and I wanted to share a bit of the journey with you. It can feel a little overwhelming at first to look at the Crucifix this closely, but I’ve found such a gentle guide in St. Bernard of Clairvaux . In his Jubilee Rhythm on the Passion, Bernard doesn't treat the wounds of Jesus as distant historical facts or sights to be avoided. Instead, he approaches them with the tenderness of a friend, speaking directly to the feet, hands, side, and face of our Lord. For someone like me who is just starting out, his rhythm teaches that prayer isn't just about reciting words; it’s a holy hide-and-seek. Bernard invites us to literally hide ourselves within these wounds, seeing them as clefts in the rock where we can find shelter when our own lives feel turbulent or heavy. As I start this process, I’ve been practicing what I call gazing and greeting. Following Bernard’s lead, I look at the Crucifix an...