It is getting to that time of year when many teenagers will have to make a decision about their future, whether they wish to go to college after high school, or a trade school or take on an apprenticeship or whatever else. Our not-quite-there-yet children found one of my own graduation gifts: a book that seems to make a frequent appearance on tables inside home garages, where families invite relatives, friends, and plenty of others, to celebrate their high school graduate. It is Dr. Seuss’ Oh, the Places You’ll Go! I’ll be the first to admit I didn’t care too much for it at that point in my late teen years. I was more obsessed over gift cards, cash, and other pricier gifts. Yes, I appreciated the hand-written notes on the inside cover from my aunt and uncle and cousins: the usual “We’re so proud of you…We can’t wait to see what the future holds for you…Blessings!” etc. I suppose I cannot speak for all teenagers, but the words were spoken and written so often that I didn’t really care to go beyond those pages into Dr. Seuss’ wisdom for “the places [I might] go.”
As our Christmas celebrations have drawn to a close in the church (with us recognizing Epiphany, the magi’s arrival to adore the infant Jesus, this past Sunday), and as the decorations fade away from homes and elsewhere, I look back at this holiday season and realize one particular movie was played quite often in our house, at least. National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation is not everyone’s “film” cup of tea, to put it rather mildly. Honestly, I wasn’t wrapped in it until Sarah came along. And yet, many seem to connect with it, because they can relate to so many aspects of the production: finding the perfect Christmas tree that may not fit just right in our living room, proudly displaying outside lights all over our house as if to reveal the depths of our holiday joy (even if to the chagrin of next door neighbors), not to mention…interesting family dynamics with a good ‘ole cousin Eddie and an Art father-in-law. The drama/comedy keeps people watching seemingly every December since its release in 1989.
Since this upcoming Sunday we’ll be celebrating Epiphany (the arrival of the magi) as opposed to the assigned Baptism of Our Lord, we’ll instead take this wandering to traverse the wonderful gift of baptism that we often take for granted. For me, it was October 14. It’s not like I can tell you any differently; I wasn’t exactly aware of what was going on, then, being just a few months old and all. So, instead, I must take the word from a piece of paper that I received from my Confirmation ceremony: that day when I was supposed to affirm my baptism (not that I too spiritually aware as a young teenager, but that’s beside the point).
One of the downfalls of calendars, including church calendars for that matter, is that they sometimes convey this nice and orderly cut-off between happenings. So, for us in the organized religion realm, we just had this nice four-week window for the season of Advent. As always, it had this starting and ending date, setting the stage for the day (or twelve day, actually) seemingly more enthralling celebration of Christmas. So, as we’re still catching our bearings from family gatherings (or still trying to get to all four or however many this week), we’ve had to put away our blue paraments and other Advent-y things in church building backrooms as well as the back burners of our hearts and minds.
As we welcomed a new living addition to our household in recent months, we had to get reacquainted to the reality of newborn bodies needing fed seemingly all the time, including during the latest of evening hours. So, in order to keep myself awake, I would virtually check in with my former preaching professor, who now serves as a pastor of a congregation in Virginia. As with many pandemic-lived-through communities of faith, they broadcast and record their Sunday morning worships not just for members, but for curious onlookers like myself, who wouldn’t mind a helping of hope and all-around Good News in the middle of the night.
