When the Homily is about Immunology

The Perfect Christmas

If you are like me you have in the back of your mind a vision of the "perfect" Christmas. Mine usually involves a gathering of close friends and family, retreating together into a large log cabin nestled amidst white dressed conifers in the snowy cascade mountains. Heavy Flannel and thick colorful wool sweaters abound as we huddle around a large fireplace drinking egg nog, hot cocoa, or scotch while singing Christmas carols and retelling old well worn stories.

Notably absent are screaming children, dirty diapers, tipped over Christmas trees, special presents left by the dog, leaking tree stands, battery-less electronic toys and associated angry child, a huge credit card bill, ill feelings about not having enough money to buy really cool gifts, arguments, burnt food, fender benders, and general everyday dysfunctional family strife.

Come to think of it, I've never really had a "perfect" Christmas. And despite the television commercials, the Hallmark TV specials, and my own imagination...one wonders if such a thing even really exists.

Today, I know many people who are suffering in many different ways this Christmas: some are away serving their country, some are living amidst the chaos of war and terrorism, some are enduring a first Christmas without a loved one, some are mourning the loss a cherished unborn child, and some are looking toward a bleak future with a loved one stricken by cancer or some other terminal ailment Indeed for these, this Christmas will be much further from "perfection" than mine.

As is my relatively new custom (since becoming Orthodox) I intend to see my family to bed on Christmas Eve and then retire into the living room, burn some incense, light some candles and ponder the wonders of the Incarnation. The icon of the Nativity will be staring down at me and now, as I consider this future event, I am reminded of one of the scenes in that icon where we see the infant Christ being bathed (usually in the right hand bottom corner.) It is a curious thing...the need to be washed implies the decidedly imperfect need of removing dirt. This says something, I think, that is very important - particularly in regard to my notions of a perfect Christmas.

Christ did not enter into the scene of a "perfect" Christmas, quite the contrary: He entered a world that is dirtied and full of imperfection. His condescension was to make perfect that which is not perfect and so in a way my vision of a "perfect" Christmas is really a terrible distraction if you think about it. The perfection of Christmas is found precisely in its imperfection...does that make sense? We may take comfort in knowing that in The Feast of the Nativity in the flesh of our Lord, and God, and Saviour, Jesus Christ we do see perfection that transcends any heart warming television special or any visions of log cabin Christmas'.

May Christ be especially with those who have very good reason to envision a more perfect Christmas.