A Season for Giving

I love Christmas, so I’m not about to ruin it by making you feel guilty for worrying about yourself because some people have more challenges than you.  Don’t ever diminish your own suffering by comparing yourself to others who may be worse off.

But don’t stop serving them, either.

Christmas, for most people, is a time for joy.  It’s the high point of a few weeks that began with us giving thanks and ends with us ringing in the new year and a new world of possibility.

It’s also a time to pause and pray, because no matter what your belief or faith, it’s easy to feel that something is born each holiday season.  That something is hope.

We who post to and read PsychCentral are a fortunate group.  We have the curiosity to learn, the technology to access this content and the presence of mind to explore the research presented and advice given.  Whether it’s an article about genetics or a list of seven ways to deal with the stress when our narcissistic brother-in-law shows up for a holiday dinner, we share a concern for all who confront mental illness.

So as we share and celebrate and pray, let’s be sure to make room for those who are not so fortunate – those who suffer from severe mental illness and homelessness.

Sunday night I went to a Carols for a Cause service at Christ Church in Philadelphia.  It’s the most historic church in the United States, and their choir and organist were joined by the choir from another of Philadelphia’s historic churches, Old First Reformed.

The service was a benefit for the men’s shelter and Saturday dinner located at and run by Old First.  For years the church has offered respite and a safe place to stay during the coldest months to some of the poorest people in the city.  Many of those people just barely get by with untreated mental illness.

I defy anyone who mocks Christians as intolerant and narrow-minded to sit among the people joined together for this service and not be moved.  Present in the pews were CEOs and the severely disabled; gay couples with children and widowers with failing memories; young people facing an uncertain future and people who remember when parts of the city were off-limits to them because of their race.  In the pew in front of me was a small girl who, on this first night of Hanukkah, showed me her new dreidel.  All accepted each other.

And every one of them sang together.

Every one of them celebrated the meaning of Christmas with thoughts not only of their own gifts, but how they can bring gifts to those with almost nothing at all to celebrate.  Simple gifts, like a place to sleep and a meal.

Blessing the colonial hall was a haunting arrangement by one of the members of the Christ Church choir of a traditional Yorkshire carol:

Cold winter is come, with its cold, chilly breath,

And the leaves are all gone from the trees.

All nature is touched by the finger of death,

And the streams are beginning to freeze.

When the young wanton lads o’er the river slide,

And the flora attends us no more,

When in plenty you sit by a warm fireside

That’s the time to remember the poor.

Don’t feel guilty for what you have.  Just share it.  The next time you encounter a homeless person on the street look him in the eye and say, “Hello.”  That alone will grant the world grace.

As you join with friends and family this holiday season, or if you’re lonely or insecure, bring to mind the benediction from the carol service.  It could be what you need to help you get through the things that trouble you:

May all that is unforgiven in you be released

May your fears yield their deepest tranquilities

May all that is unlived in you blossom into a future graced with love

Amen