Hey, did you hear? Christmas is coming! By all accounts it seems like this will be a very different Christmas than most of us are used to. This year, to help prevent people from getting sick or worse, we have all been asked to spend Christmas in most cases with just our own immediate families. I think as Christmas draws nearer, it’s going to hit us all a bit harder as this year we’ll be missing our friends, our family, our Christmas traditions, and yes, Mom’s good old mashed potatoes and brussels sprouts.
It’s the traditions though, that have got me thinking this week. See, when we were kids, we had a number of treasured yet un-spoken Christmas traditions. We would always go to a beautiful Christmas program or two, put on by one of the big churches in our area. On Christas Eve, we would eat food. So much food. From potatoes to veggie turkey stuff, to cranberries, gluten, and even the long-forgotten and (for me) highly mourned Strawberry Jello Salad. Oh for one more taste of that wondrous delight. Pistachio pudding is another one. What a Christmas miracle that those two foods were somehow considered part of the main course. But us kids knew better. It was dessert we could eat before the actual dessert was served. Speaking of dessert, there were pies and cookies and homemade ice cream and whipped cream, not to mention regular cream for dousing … everything with. My mom’s side of the family was originally from Wisconsin, so dairy was a pretty strong part of my childhood.
After we’d eat, we would all get together in the living room and talk and visit and listen to my Grandpa tell us stories until finally my Grandma couldn’t handle it any longer and she’d say, “So when are we going to open some presents??” My sister and I agreed, and every year my mom would tells us that this year we could only open one present each… we would save the rest for Christmas morning. But that never ended up happening. Maybe one time. But other than that, we would all get carried away and open everything.
Christmas day also had it’s own set of traditions which I remember fondly. And so when I got married, it almost came as a surprise when I found out one day that we weren’t planning to spend every holiday every year with my family. I mean… our holiday are the best… aren’t they?
It turned out that Meghann’s family had their own set of traditions, which she seemed to like. Hot drinks, cookies hanging on the Christmas tree, a very deliberate scientific algorithm used for opening presents, and sometimes even travel. It all seemed so foreign, but I do love her, so I figured I’d give it a try.
With the exception of the odd moment of weakness, our holiday planning negotiations have largely gone pretty well. However, these delicate operations always have the potential to end in complete disaster. But these disasters are not unforeseen. It turns out, how you react to a conflict, like holiday plans, actually has a lot to do with what you’ve been cultivating inside of you for the rest of the year.
Check out James 4:1-2: “What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don’t they come from your desires that battle within you? You desire but do not have, so you kill. You covet but you cannot get what you want, so you quarrel and fight. You do not have because you do not ask God.”
According to this, our fights and quarrels come from inside of us. They come from the the roots of self that we let grow, and sometimes even nurture throughout the rest of our lives. It turns out, your roots determine your fruits.
Here’s an example. If I spend my life focusing on myself, my reaction to this conflict is probably going to look something like me whining, sniveling, and complaining, trying to get my own way… because of course, my way is the right way.
If I’ve been cultivating roots of self-pity throughout the year (and really, who hasn’t?), my response is probably going to be that I’ll feel sorry for myself, and try my best to make sure everyone else feels sorry for me too. You know, sitting around the dinner table lamenting, “Well, it sure would have been nice to have been with my family this year. They’ve had a tough year, and they’re not getting any younger. I don’t know how many more years we’re going to have where we can all be together. I bet they’re having fun right now. It sure would be great to be there with them.”
How about roots of pride? I’ll probably spend most of my time thinking about how my family’s traditions are superior to the ones I now have to deal with. And I’ll probably let people know too. “Oh yes, these mashed potatoes are pretty good. But the ones back home… they were something else. My mom has the ultimate mashed potatoes recipe, created with the best potatoes and butter you can possibly buy from SuperStore.” Or “This sled hill is pretty good… for babies… and maybe grandmas. The one at my house is long, steep, narrow, and surrounded by forest and thorn-bushes. It’s extreme, and way more fun than this. But this one’s okay.”
Who invited this guy to Christmas dinner anyway?
But what if you’ve actually spent the year growing with God… growing in God? What if you’ve been walking with Him, learning about Him… discipling under His guidance? What would it all look like then?
With your roots going deep into the soil of God, you fruits are going to look a bit different. You’ll probably find the fruit of love. And if you do, Christmas night when my in-laws family digs out Dutch Blitz, I’ll probably actually go play it. Why, because I love it? No. I loathe that game entirely. But I’ll play it anyway because I know that they love it, and I love them so I’m willing to sacrifice some of my own time to do something with them that they love. And you know what? I’ll probably find myself enjoying the game, and making special memories, instead of keeping the couch warm and my memory bank dry.
If you dig your roots deep into the soil of God, you may also find the fruit of patience. And if you do, instead of complaining that Christmas brunch still isn’t ready, maybe I’ll go help. That would be different. And it may even be appreciated! If you grow roots of patience, you may even survive a house full of people (next year!) where everybody’s loud, and there’s always someone in the bathroom.
If you dig your roots deep into the soil of God, you may find the fruit of kindness growing as well. And if you do, you may be interested in getting to know these people better. I bet Great Aunt Helga has some pretty interesting stories of how growing up, she survived the winter of ’58 on a steady diet of gopher meat, puffed wheat, and powdered milk. These are things you’d never have known if you hadn’t cared to find out.
If you’ve dug your roots deep into the soil of God, you may just surprise yourself and find out that even though things aren’t exactly as you’d hoped, you had fun. You made memories that you’ll treasure for as long as you live.
Your roots determine your fruits. But if your roots are bad, don’t worry, there’s still hope. You’re not stuck with the roots you have now.
In Psalm 51:10, the writer prays the prayer, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.” And later, Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:17 saying, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, they are a new creation. The old has gone, and the new is here!”
See, according to the Bible, if your roots are rotten and that’s something that you care about, it’s an easy fix. Just give yourself to Jesus, the master gardener, and let Him do the gardening; the cultivating, the trimming, and the watering. Trust Jesus to know the process, and let Him do the work. And next Christmas, bearing the fruits of the Spirit, you just may find that you do not even recognize yourself at all.
PC: jacky_julyan