Holidays
I've always pretty much wanted to minimize holidays. I said it was because I was resisting the commercialization of everything and the retailers screaming about my responsibility to buy stuff for everybody. It seemed every time I turned around there was some new special day invented by Hallmark. I've always much preferred to give a gift or say something to someone I love because I felt it at the moment. And the effect is better when they aren't expecting it. When you do it on a holiday the doing is more like a chore with a deadline and the getting is expected and therefore doesn't count for very much. Even Christmas was marred when I got old enough to be useful in the light -hanging and tree set-up department. My parents always got a real tree and they had this perfectly awful stand that required countless trips under the branches and into the needles to endlessly loosen and tighten bolts in attempt to get the tree straight enough for my mother's satisfaction. I would think about how I was going to have to undo all the work in just a few weeks - a real Scrooge when it came to decorations. So I suppose the bottom line of my eschewing the calender mandated days has been selfishness.
There is that commandment number four to consider: "Remember the Sabbath to keep it holy." I've tried to do that. I have been in church on most of the Sundays of my entire life. But the commandment isn't quite hard and fast. Like killing in war, there are some exceptions to the rule. Jesus spoke of the reasonable thing to pull your son or ox out of a well if he should happen to fall in there on a Sabbath day. (Luke 14)
(an aside: Having worked most of my life in the creative process vs. making widgets or pushing paper or some other 9 to 5 pursuit, I have had my ox in the well on perhaps many more occasions than normal people. Creative fields are deadly to predictable, controllable schedules. While a wonderful and worthwhile way to nourish one's soul and those of others, after a lifetime of doing so I have come to the opinion that the creative process is a dreadful way to make a living.)
And there is Jesus healing on the Sabbath several times (ex: John chapter 9) directly forcing the issue of the Jewish leadership of his day being so legalistic and repressive about the number of steps in a sabbath day's journey, etc. at the expense of compassion for human beings. When he was chastised for letting his disciples do a bit of work to get something to eat on the Sabbath he said that the day was made for man and not man for the Sabbath (Mark 2:27). And then Romans 14 says that some men consider some days special and others consider all of them the same and let each man be convinced in his own mind. So I've been convinced in my own mind that every day being the same makes more sense; that I should be considerate and loving and honoring of God and others every day, not just on special ones.
But it seems I'm a hypocrite. Even with my bent toward eschewing holidays, I do remember fondly mother's days and father's days, etc., leaving the church at noon on a Sunday and the family gathering at the house or some restaurant to honor my dad or to be honored by my own little family. Basically it was just an excuse to get together and celebrate family and for that it was great. So holidays were kind of a love/hate thing.
I dread holidays more than ever now. I go to church by myself on a day like today and it's worth the effort to do so. But then comes the really hard part: walking out the door by myself as I see others gather with their families to head off to dinner together or whatnot. I'm filled with memories of being part of that as I head off alone into an alone afternoon and an alone evening and another week alone. And I have to buck up and take it. It does pass and I know it will but I know it's coming and I dread it. I've skipped church on a few holidays this year to avoid it. But sitting at home isn't much better. The sharp emotional hit at a more concentrated point in time is replaced by a general malaise accompanied by a good bit of sitting and staring at walls or the trees out back or whatever.
So, as much as I try for them not to, holidays matter. In fact, my lifelong attitude about them has no doubt greatly influenced the circumstances that now require me to experience them by myself.
PS: Both my kids called me this afternoon. That was really nice.
There is that commandment number four to consider: "Remember the Sabbath to keep it holy." I've tried to do that. I have been in church on most of the Sundays of my entire life. But the commandment isn't quite hard and fast. Like killing in war, there are some exceptions to the rule. Jesus spoke of the reasonable thing to pull your son or ox out of a well if he should happen to fall in there on a Sabbath day. (Luke 14)
(an aside: Having worked most of my life in the creative process vs. making widgets or pushing paper or some other 9 to 5 pursuit, I have had my ox in the well on perhaps many more occasions than normal people. Creative fields are deadly to predictable, controllable schedules. While a wonderful and worthwhile way to nourish one's soul and those of others, after a lifetime of doing so I have come to the opinion that the creative process is a dreadful way to make a living.)
And there is Jesus healing on the Sabbath several times (ex: John chapter 9) directly forcing the issue of the Jewish leadership of his day being so legalistic and repressive about the number of steps in a sabbath day's journey, etc. at the expense of compassion for human beings. When he was chastised for letting his disciples do a bit of work to get something to eat on the Sabbath he said that the day was made for man and not man for the Sabbath (Mark 2:27). And then Romans 14 says that some men consider some days special and others consider all of them the same and let each man be convinced in his own mind. So I've been convinced in my own mind that every day being the same makes more sense; that I should be considerate and loving and honoring of God and others every day, not just on special ones.
But it seems I'm a hypocrite. Even with my bent toward eschewing holidays, I do remember fondly mother's days and father's days, etc., leaving the church at noon on a Sunday and the family gathering at the house or some restaurant to honor my dad or to be honored by my own little family. Basically it was just an excuse to get together and celebrate family and for that it was great. So holidays were kind of a love/hate thing.
I dread holidays more than ever now. I go to church by myself on a day like today and it's worth the effort to do so. But then comes the really hard part: walking out the door by myself as I see others gather with their families to head off to dinner together or whatnot. I'm filled with memories of being part of that as I head off alone into an alone afternoon and an alone evening and another week alone. And I have to buck up and take it. It does pass and I know it will but I know it's coming and I dread it. I've skipped church on a few holidays this year to avoid it. But sitting at home isn't much better. The sharp emotional hit at a more concentrated point in time is replaced by a general malaise accompanied by a good bit of sitting and staring at walls or the trees out back or whatever.
So, as much as I try for them not to, holidays matter. In fact, my lifelong attitude about them has no doubt greatly influenced the circumstances that now require me to experience them by myself.
PS: Both my kids called me this afternoon. That was really nice.
posted by wingman at 4:31 PM
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