A Christmas Morning Call
So here I am; awake at an ungodly hour on Christmas morning (are there ungodly hours on Christmas?). I didn’t plan for this – and I’m not waiting up for Santa – and no word yet on the Maccabees.
No, I’m awake because a neighbor was trying to unstick his van from a snowy/icy patch and I woke up to his reving engine and spinning tires.
Chicago and most northern cities have this great winter tradition of letting their cars sit through a tremendous snow and ice storm, and then waiting until its absolutely necessary that they leave immediately before hopping in their car and discovering their fated lot. Tradition then calls on them to lay on the gas, rocking their car and using sand, salt, and shovels to try to work it out of the man made snow drift they’re creating for themselves.
I know, because earlier in the evening, I was doing the exact same thing. Well, mostly. I was getting my car free of its white prison early in the evening knowing that the overnight freeze would make it impossible to leave for our trip to Indy this morning. Still, last night it was a bear trying to get out of our nestled alley parking space. We love our 2-car-deep parking spot. We even share it with our neighbor, “C,” and we call each other when we need the other to move our car so we can get out. Some might think this is a nuisance, I see it as a chance to get to know my neighbor.
So last night, I called C asking him to move as I was warming up the car and brushing off the snow. He obliged, (he’s a really nice guy), even though when he got out there I had bad news for him. In my scraping and brushing, I had noticed his front passenger tire was completely flat. Telling him, I expected frustration, since he too was planning on leaving in 10 minutes for a party (and thus participating with me in that great northern tradition, see above).
But surprisingly, there was no cursing, violence or anger – just, “Well, when life gives ya lemons…” We worked on getting his tired repaired (which is no easy task in the snow on an already uneven alley). Then we set to the task of extracting my car from its snowy chamber. There is something beautiful about neighbors helping each other in the bone-chilling cold. Especially two eternal optimists like me and C. It was almost sickening, but we both needed each other’s positive outlook. After a solid 2 hours, we were congratulating ourselves with warm coffee and Katrina’s freshly baked scones. Mmm…
SO! Back to this morning. While it took me awhile to realize it, I concluded around 3:30am as I lay in bed listening to tires spin and engine roar, that if Christmas was not about getting up to help out my neighbor, then it was about nothing at all.
Getting up and dressed, I was surprised how lucid I was – and how thankful I was to be able to help someone; and hopefully to see the Christ in service this morning. I went down our backsteps and out to where the van was. I saw an old, man in crutches fumbling his way up a sidewalk away from the van. I was momentarily disoriented (I suppose I expected to see someone else, a young mother with children, an elderly couple?). I learned that he was too cold to keep working, that he’d just put some salt down beneath the tires, and he was going back inside to sleep while it melted. He wouldn’t even let me help him up the stairs.
Walking away from this man, as he hobbled up the stairs with a broken leg, I found myself asking, “God, what was that all about!?!”
Yesterday it was clear what can happen between people when they are working together to see each other through a project, or crisis. All I could think about working with C was how this had to be the urban equivalent of the Amish barn-raising. (Meaning, its just as much about building community through struggle, or “communitas” as it is about seeing the mission accomplished.) This morning, my hope was to experience the love of Jesus through loving my neighbor – but I felt as if it was denied. And now I can’t go back to sleep.
Why are we so independent that we can’t accept help when we need it? Why did I lay in bed for half an hour selfishly wishing that blasted noise would stop, instead of following Jesus out to where he was – in the cold with my neighbor? And why do I stop my pursuit of loving my neighbor just because the way I thought I was going to love him didn’t work out (i.e. – why not brew him a warm cup of coffee or give him my number if he needs my help later on).
I suppose, much like Christ, the most difficult kind of service is the one where the people you are serving refuse your help, keep to themselves, and hobble away. Jesus asked one, “Do you want to get well?” Sometimes I think he may be asking me that question too.
And his help is always paradigm shattering – yes, maybe my “car is stuck in the snow,” but he knows the best help I need right now is to stop my striving, get out of the cold, and recover from my frostbite by trading in a roaring engine for his roaring fire, before its too late. His love always leads to community, and it always leads to healing.
This Christmas, my thoughts will be on two things – (1) learning to follow Jesus outside of myself and into the love of my neighbor and (2) when Christ loves me, it almost certainly will look different than what I expect or think I need from him.
Merry Christmas everyone.
