Dream God's Dream, Part II: Sustaining the Dream—Doing the Work of Christmas

The thing about dreams is that they are fleeting—and unpredictable.  We wake up in the morning and wonder if that really happened—and if so, what does it mean?  Consider the case of Jacob’s dream at Bethel—see Genesis 28:10-22. If you recall the story, Jacob arrived at Bethel destitute, trying to escape his brother Esau’s wrath after Jacob essentially tricked him into giving away his birthright.  He has fled the wilderness with literally just the clothes on his back.  The text says that he had only a stone for a pillow.  That couldn’t have been the best conditions for REM sleep. Yet, during that sleepless night, Jacob has an ecstatic vision of angels ascending and descending a “ladder” from heaven, and experiences an epiphany that God had been with him all along—he just hadn’t realized it.  

Jacob at Bethel—Genesis 28:10-22

But despite his powerful vison, the next morning when Jacob wakes up, although he may have been changed by what happened that night, the world around him hasn’t changed appreciably.  And, as if to add insult to injury, his body now aches from sleeping on the cold ground all night. 

It has occurred to me that the Christmas and Advent season we’ve just finished can be a bit like Jacob’s dream at Bethel: a beautiful, but all too brief vision of a world that does not yet exist in full.  For about a month, we are flooded with images from Scripture of God’s realm connecting with our own, of things becoming on Earth like they already are in heaven.  The liturgy chosen during this season is meant to remind us not only that Christ came and was born in Bethlehem over 2000 years ago, but that Christ is also here in our world today, and that Christ will come again in the future to rule as King.  It’s like a dream come true!

We perpetuate the Christmas dream in our homes and churches as we adorn them with beautiful lights and decorations in December to brighten the darkest days of the year. But sooner or later, it is time to “wake up” and “get back to normalcy”. This week, Laurie and I have been taking down our Christmas decorations. Most of them are now put away in bins in the basement, where the cat will sleep upon them until the season comes ‘round again. Once the tree is gone, there is always a stark empty space where it has stood for nearly a month—and needles appearing until August to remind us.  The lights that twinkled so beautifully are now gone. Coming downstairs to the family room on the first few days after the decorations are removed is a harsh reentry to reality.  

As the literal glow of Christmas fades, we might experience solidarity with Jacob, as he woke up after having such a vivid dream to greet the same bleak landslcape that existed when he went to sleep the night before.  Jacob put up a stone altar in that place and worshipped God. How will we respond?

In his poem, “Now the Work of Christmas Begins”, African-American theologian, educator, and civil rights leader, Howard Thurman, beautifully proposes an answer.  He says:

When the song of the angels is stilled,
when the star in the sky is gone,
when the kings and princes are home,
when the shepherds are back with their flocks,
the work of Christmas begins:
to find the lost,
to heal the broken,
to feed the hungry,
to release the prisoner,
to rebuild the nations,
to bring peace among the people,
to make music in the heart.

Inevitably, we come to that moment when we wake up and realize the Christmas season is over for another year.  With all the lights and adornment stripped away, cold, harsh reality sets in: as warm and wonderful as the past month has been for us, the world around us hasn’t changed a great deal since late November.  While Christmas doesn’t change the world, hopefully it changes us… and then we go forth to change the world.  External decorations fade but what is in our heart is eternal.  The dream of God (which Jesus often called the Kingdom of God) is within us, and our job is to do the “work of Christmas” in the places we go and the spaces we dwell, and to “infect” others we meet with our dream—as Barnum did with his wife Charity.  If we do that we will most certainly keep the Christmas dream alive throughout the year—and for the rest of our lives.

Next:  Reclaiming the Dream—Baptismal Renewal