Christmas in January

By Dan Schaeffer

Why are we more likely to care for others in December? Here's how to enjoy 11 more months of the Christmas spirit.

As I drive down a street near my home in July, I always chuckle to see the Christmas lights still out on certain houses. Some people are so enamored with the season that they simply can't part with it. They wait three months to take down their decorations and the sound of carols are continuously heard throughout their home way past New Year's. Preparations for the season start the first day cold enough for a coat.

Such over-the-top behavior surely warrants a patronizing smile or raised eyebrows. But I, for one, think it's about time more of us joined them. 

Don't worry—I'm not advocating that we listen to nothing but Christmas music for 12 months a year. I'm just concerned that I, at least, too quickly pack away the virtues that appear powerfully in me come Advent—and then return them to spiritual storage for another 11 months. Sure, maybe they appear sporadically, but never with the same passion and fervor.

During the Christmas season, I'm far more sensitive to those who are suffering a loss, relational strife, or a reversal of their "fortunes"—any kind of pain that might be accentuated by this special time of year and its family-related celebrations. At Christmas, I suddenly find myself thinking about people who haven't been much on my mind until now. Meeting their needs in a tangible way becomes more important to me. Their struggles are suddenly more pressing for some reason, and I find myself being more creative in loving my family and others.

This isn't bad. It's great. What's troubling is that this heightened awareness of others is seasonal.

Don't misunderstand me, I care about people all year long and am constantly seeking to meet others' needs. I enjoy allowing God to love others through me. But to be honest, I'm far more conservative with my compassion and love the other 11 months out of the year. For one season, I'm more like Jesus—more concerned with what concerns Him. 

So, I'm forced to wonder: Is the Christmas season merely a spiritual steroid, empowering our hearts for a month and then wearing off as the year comes to an end? Are we just naturally "better Christians" at Christmas than we are the rest of the year for some inexplicable reason? Though it sometimes seems that way, I don't think that's the answer.

At Christmas, we're reminded God came into a world that didn't love Him and then proceeded to display a mystifying gesture of love—so subtle, and yet, so lavish it's almost embarrassing. Divine majesty humbled Himself to love His undeserving, fallen creation.

Ultimately, I don't think it's the cultural trappings of the holiday season that changes us. I think it's our focus. Christmas reminds us that our God chose to flesh Himself out as Immanuel, God With Us—coming so close that we could actually hear his infant lungs crying out into the night air. With this story of love being played out again in our memories and penetrating our hearts, we can't help but want to be a part of it. And, we find great joy in doing so. 

So, why can't this continue past December?

Take a moment to stop and reflect—and then, consider putting your thoughts into action by a simple exercise that could transform your new year.

1. Ask yourself: What special virtues do I display with more spiritual passion during the Christmas season than I do the rest of the year? (If your list is like mine it might include thoughtfulness, generosity, sensitivity, and empathy.)

2. Who were you suddenly more concerned with reaching out to this season?  Think of a few specific names (e.g. your sister, your boss, an old friend) and situations that you found tugging at your heart (e.g. children orphaned by AIDS, your church's youth ministry, pregnant teens in your community).

3. Now, grab your 2007 calendar. Starting with January, write down a reminder to pray for one concern each week. (Even if you already did something special about these concerns in December—all the better! Don't be afraid to continue caring in a tangible way this coming month.)

4. Under the name or situation, write down one idea of how you can show you care in a tangible way. (This can be as simple as a card, letter, phone call, email. Or, it can be a financial gift, physical help, or quality time. Keep it simple at first so you won't get bogged down or discouraged.)

5. Each week when you check off your tangible "act of love," flip the page to the next month and write down either a new name/idea or the same one you'd like to continue to follow up on. 

You get the idea. Christ left His splendor to serve and love us. Let that be your motivation, your example.

If you take the risk of trying out this exercise for a month, I guarantee you'll also begin to experience—in generous measures—the things that make Christmas so life-giving: joy, hope, and love.

Think about it. One day it will be Christmas forever. We'll be in the presence of our Lord and able to love Him and one another perfectly. What we experience so incompletely here will be perfected in our true home.

So until then, I think I know what I'm going to ask for every year. Eleven more months of Christmas, please.