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Christmas Belongs To The Poor 33

Christmas Belongs To The

Poor

By Jeff Goins

For years, I never understood Christmas.
Admittedly, I was a bit of a Scrooge. It just
seemed like the whole thing was a farce.
Every made-for-TV movie I watched
between Thanksgiving and New Year’s preached
the same gospel: “It’s not about presents.” But
then, every Christmas morning, I was inundated
with presents. It didn’t make sense. Someone
was lying.
My parents, and probably yours, would
conclude every Dec. 25 with the same nervous
question: “So… did you get everything you
wanted?”
Are you kidding me? Everything I
wanted? Is this what we want to teach our
children about life? That you can get everything
you want?
I remember being a kid. I never got
everything I wanted. (Thank God.) My parents
had the best of intentions at heart. Most do. But
this is telling of our culture. Frasier meets a homeless man who tells him, hustle-and-bustle holiday, I hope you find an
Maybe it’s America. Maybe it’s rather pointedly, what Christmas is all about: opportunity to do something similar. (If you’re
humanity at its most broken. But I shudder to “The rest of the year belongs to rich people with looking for a way to give back, check out World
think of the implications of that phrase: their fancy houses and expensive foreign cars, Vision’s Gift Catalog. It’s one of the best ways I
everything you want. but Christmas, Christmas belongs to guys like know to reconnect with the true spirit of
Over the years, I’ve grown cynical of us.” Christmas.) Because there’s just something
Christmas. I’ve run out of good gift ideas, gotten Frasier forgets his wallet and can’t cover about celebrating Christmas without the poor
fed up with the shopping mall feeding frenzy the cost of his meal. The homeless man and his that feels dishonest.
and been downright angry at ungrateful people. friends cover it. This is the great irony and May we connect with the story of a boy
It’s made me want to write off the whole paradox of Christmas, of learning to live born in a manger and find Christmas where it
ridiculous holiday. (Told you I was a Scrooge.) compassionately: We don’t give to the poor; belongs — in humble places, like barns and
But there’s another story to tell. they give to us. dumps and alleys. This is where we’ll find baby
When Mary finds out she’s pregnant One Sunday afternoon in 2007, I drove a Jesus, if we’re willing to look. And maybe He
with the Jesus, she sings a song—a pretty car full of Christmas presents to a small rented will lead us, like He promised, out of our own
interesting one: house in south Nashville. A family of three lived prisons. []
He has brought down rulers from their in that home—without a phone, sometimes
thrones but has lifted up the humble. without heat and seemingly without hope. I Heard The Bells On
He has filled the hungry with good A week before, this family didn’t think
things but has sent the rich away empty. they were going to be able to have Christmas at Christmas Day - Poem by
He has helped his servant Israel, all that year. But there was another story to be Henry Wadsworth
remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his told.
descendants forever, even as he said to our A church group of about 30 people Longfellow
fathers. (Luke 1:52-55) banded together to buy gifts, food, toys and
When I first read this, I swear I heard more for this family. The best Christmas gift I I heard the bells on Christmas day
Santa Claus instantly drop dead of a heart attack. received that year—maybe ever—was the look Their old familiar carols play,
“He has sent the rich away empty …” Does that on the two children’s faces as I pulled up in my And wild and sweet the words repeat
sound like everything you wanted? Not quite. Buick, the back seat and trunk full of presents Of peace on earth, good will to men.
God loves the poor. He is among them. from perfect strangers.
And if we are going to celebrate the birth of His “How could this be?” they marveled. I thought how, as the day had come,
Son with any sense of conscience, we must be They were told Santa wasn’t coming this year. The belfries of all Christendom
with them, as well. This had to be magic. And indeed it was. Had rolled along th'unbroken song
A few years ago, I spent the month of After a long hiatus, I believed in Of peace on earth, good will to men.
December hanging out with a community of Christmas again.
homeless men and women who lived under a Christmas belongs to the poor—let’s not And in despair I bowed my head:
bridge in downtown Nashville. My friend Paul forget that. We should be raising our glasses to 'There is no peace on earth, ' I said
and I brought them candy canes, shoes and them, to the outcast and the hungry, the 'For hate is strong, and mocks the song
coats. Sure, we gave them gifts. But they gave us handicapped and oppressed. Maybe if we’re Of peace on earth, good will to men.'
a gift we could never repay: They opened our lucky, they’ll let us in on the true spirit of the
eyes to the spirit of Christmas. season. Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
As it turns out, it’s not about holiday 'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
specials and sugar cookies. Nor is it about This year, my wife and I are doing something The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
getting everything you ever wanted. Through different for Christmas. No, we won’t be With peace on earth, good will to men.'
the dirty and downtrodden and nearly forgotten, celebrating it on the streets (unless the
I learned what Dec. 25 is really about: opportunity presents itself). However, we will Till, ringing, singing on its way,
compassion. be finding a way to connect with those in need. The world revolved from night to day
I caught an old rerun of Frasier the other We’re buying gifts. But not just any kind of A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
night. It was a Christmas episode. On the show, gifts. The kind that make a difference. In your Of peace on earth, good will to men.