Traditions

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to their own town to register.


So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a mager, because there was no guest room available for them.
 
And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night.  An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all th people.  Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.  This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
 
Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
 
“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”
 
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”
 
So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger.  When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child,  and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.  But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.  The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

{More than 25 years ago, I memorized those lines.  Every Christmas Eve, I would walk up the stairs from the basement of Christ Chapel at Gustavus Adolphus College. I would enter the larger than life sanctuary- the equivalent to the Colusseum for a 6 year old.  I would stand and wait by the fount that sat at the beginning of the aisle and restrain myself from splashing the water.  As I walked down the aisle, I would gaze back towards the choir balcony to see the gigantic pipe organ.  I never remembered much about the service, but I always looked forward to what awaited us afterward.  We were always given a paper sack which contained a candy bar (usually a Snickers), orange, apple, and best of all: salted-in-shell peanuts.}

This tradition continued until I was confirmed.  Then it continued as I taught 1st graders to memorize the same lines.  And I led them up the same steps.  And I handed them the same paper sacks that were handed to me 10 years before.


Traditions are amazing things.  Sometimes they are deep with meaning and richness.  Sometimes, they arise out of necessity.  Sometimes they arise accidentally.  Traditions are meaningful.  But usually only to those who live them.  Sometimes they lead to laughter.  Sometimes they lead to tears.  But always, they are embraced.  They are not let go of easily.  And when they are, they can leave a hole in your heart.


{When we got home, we would eat dinner- something mom usually put in the oven before we left for church.  After dinner (or supper as it is called in my parents' house), we would open presents.  After presents, we would walk over to grandma's house.  (No matter how cold or snowy it was, we could always make that 100 foot walk.)  Then it was an evening of more food, family, and more presents.  And it was an evening of pulling the string that dangled from the Santa head "music box" that hung on the frame of the living room arch.  When my sister and I were the youngest, we would always pass out the presents to everyone.  When we grew up and great-grandchildren entered the festivities, my sister and I would watch as they took over that responsibility.  And as my sister and I got older, toys turned to clothes, and then clothes turned to money.}


When grandma entered the nursing home, some of those traditions ended.  We never had a contingency plan.  There was never a concerted effort to keep them going.  Some traditions fade over time.  Not because we don't care, but because we just move forward.  Now that I am married, I must share some traditions.  Together, we have to decide who goes where and who does what.  We have to balance time and distance.  And we have to prioritize.  Not by importance, but out of necessity.  


I don't know if steak and crab legs rank high on the all-time list of Christmas traditions, but it has for Steph's family.  And because of that, me too.  I don't know if the barrage of sarcastic quips towards Grandma Vita ranks high on the list of yuletide cheer, but it does makes us laugh.  I don't know if Don looks anything like Santa Claus, but the child-like joy of giving sure does resemble St. Nick.


When grandma entered the nursing home, the tradition of Christmas at Grandma's ended.  But out of that, new traditions for all of the kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids started.  Families change and families evolve.  New traditions emerge.  Steph and I will eventually settle in to our Christmas routine.  (Wherever that may be.)  We will establish new traditions for our family.  And hopefully those traditions will mean something to all those involved.  Hopefully they will be so significant that they will give birth to new traditions as well.


{Last night, Steph held Jordan and I told the Christmas story.   Just like I did over 25 years ago.  And Jordan smiled.}