The Reason for the Season
Part I
“What
are you looking at?” Joe asked his reflection in the water. The image of a
brooding twenty-something stared up at him over the bridge rail, rippling,
breaking and reforming. The water looked cold. And his reflection looked just
as cold and mixed up as he felt. He wished he had a rock to throw in. He wished
he had the courage to jump. One might say it took more courage not to jump and
just endure, but he was not jumping mostly because that water looked icy cold.
That, and he wasn’t really that miserable, was he?
He
pushed back from the splintery railing and looked across the bridge both ways.
Empty. Not even a vehicle. Why did he think that there would even be another
pedestrian? Everyone was home or in church doing Christmas Eve stuff tonight. Even the
shops were closed. Stupid little town with its little population. Stupid
December.
He
looked back at the rushing black water below him with the figure looking up at
him. He knew he wouldn’t have the courage to climb over the rail and… then
what? Let go? No, the water was cold. And you know what? He still had friends
and a family. Parents who thought he would be born on Christmas so they picked
out the name Joseph and went ahead and named him that when he was born weeks
early. A big brother whose birthday was in May. Did it get any better than May?
What was worse than a December birthday? Well, a December birthday for a young
adult was worse. Too old to have a fuss made. He wasn’t a little kid anymore.
Christmas would just be worse. What did it matter now?
What
did anything matter? What was tomorrow, other than another cold day in a cold
month in a cold year of a cold life?
Joe pulled off his coat and dropped
it on the ground. But then he thought that if he did jump, then the coat would
be better to have on and weigh him down.
What
was he thinking? He leaned hard on the railing, looked down at the reflection
and asked: “What are you thinking?”
“What
are you thinking?” said a voice
behind him.
Joe
whirled around and there was an old man next to him. He was not much taller
than Joe with a scraggly white beard. He was bundled in a long brown overcoat
and an old aviator’s fur cap, complete with goggles over his forehead. He stood
there looking like an old war flying ace at Joe with the kind of smile someone
has when they’re about to reveal a secret.
“Wow,
you scared me,” Joe said. “Where’d you come from?”
“What
are you doing?” the man asked. He looked over the bridge railing as if to see
if Joe was looking at something in particular. Then he nodded as if in understanding.
“No,
I wasn’t going to jump,” Joe said. “I just came out here to think, okay?”
“Of
course you did,” the man said. “I’m Donavan.” His voice was gravelly and
careworn. He extended a gloved hand.
Joe gave it a
shake. The man’s grip was like a football player’s and he almost winced.
“Sorry,” Donavan
said. “It feels good to shake hands with someone.”
Joe looked him
over. The man was dressed in old clothes but they looked warm. He had all his
teeth and he didn’t look like the stereotypical alkies that hung around town. He
still might be homeless. Might as well ask.
“Have you got a
place to go tonight?” Joe asked.
“As a matter of
fact I do,” Donavan said.
“I mean, like a
home? Or a shelter?”
The old man
nodded. “I have a place,” he said. “But right now? I’m supposed to be here,
Joe.”
Joe backed up a
step. “Did someone send you to look for me?” he asked. “Is that how you know my
name?”
Donavan nodded.
“Not who you think,” he said.
Joe stared at him.
He heard the rushing water below him and felt the cold wind on his nose.
“This isn’t
funny,” he finally said. “Coming out and doing something like this. Just
because I’m on a bridge on Christmas Eve, you think you can come out and do a
“It’s a Wonderful Life” on me or something? What, are you going to tell me that
you’re an angel? Are you going to tell me that I’m going to be visited by three
ghosts tonight?”
Donavan had been
smiling but then frowned. “You’re mixing up your Christmas stories there, Joe,”
he laughed. “The guy on the bridge was given a look at what the world would be
like if he had never been born.”
“Yeah,” Joe said.
He turned from the rail and stared walking. “I’m going home now. Let’s just say
you saved me from jumping and I’ll be all happy and… and ‘the end’, okay?”
He took several
steps and turned around. Donavan just stood and stared, not following. He
smiled and raised his hand in a little wave of: yes, I’m still here. Who sent him? How did this man know his name?
“Why did you come
out here?” Joe asked.
“Why did you?”
Donavan asked back.
Joe was about to say
how he just wanted to come out to think, but he stopped. This stranger was
here, who knew if he’d see him again? So he walked back and told him how he had
just had a bad month. He had graduated high school a year and a half back and
was trying to figure out what to do with his life. He was still living at home.
The world seemed to be just going on without him and he felt disconnected. And
his birthday had been a disappointment.
“I know it’s
selfish and everything,” Joe said. “But I miss being a kid and having a fuss
made over me. And Christmas will be the same thing, you know? It’s just not fun
anymore. I know it’s wrong to feel this way, but… I don’t know, it’s just
getting me down.”
“I hear you,”
Donavan said. “This time of year gets people down, Joe. It happens to a lot of
us.”
Joe nodded and
looked at the water below. Donavan’s reflection stood next to his. “I hate
Christmas,” Joe muttered.
“So you’re the type
who needs to be visited by the ghosts,” Donavan said. “To find the true meaning
of Christmas.”
“Yeah, I guess
so.”
“Okay then.”
Joe smiled. “What
are you going to do? Snap your fingers and take me into Christmas past?
Donavan, I know the true meaning of Christmas.” He made finger quotes. “The
‘reason for the season’ right?”
For the first
time, Donavan’s face fell. “No you don’t,” he said. Then he turned impish.
“Where would you want to go if you could visit somewhere in time Joe? Christmas
past?”
“Okay,” Joe said.
“If you could do it, send me to December 25th, year zero.”
Donavan opened his
mouth, then closed it. He grinned again. “Snap my fingers, right?” he said.
“Go for it,” Joe
said. “Oh, and take me to the fields outside of Bethlehem, right? If we
traveled in time but not space, you know this bridge would be gone?”
“So would the
river,” Donavan said. “Get your coat.”
As soon as Joe
grabbed his coat from the ground the air suddenly turned icy. The ground
tilted. He fell over backward into tall grass.
Joe barked in
surprise and realized that he felt terror as he scrambled to his feet.
Everything was out of focus. There was a blurry moon over head. He shook his
head and watched his surroundings pull into focus like adjusting a pair of
binoculars.
He was standing on
an empty hillside. The stars and moon lit around him enough that he could see
hills and rocks. There were no buildings in sight. No sheep or shepherds
either. The air was colder and dryer here, but there was a cleanness to it. And
he had never seen so many stars.
A voice spoke
behind him and this time he fell down.
“Stop that!” Joe
shouted. But it wasn’t Donavan. This man was shorter and thinner than him,
maybe about his age. He had dark whiskers, not really a beard. He wore a long
robe and something like a turban on his head and he was holding what looked
like a blanket. He spoke again and Joe realized it wasn’t English.
Joe got to his
feet again and looked at the man. He could be a shepherd, or anyone from around
here. But where was here? Had he traveled in time and space?
“I fell off the
bridge didn’t I?” Joe said out loud.
The man shook his
head.
“You
understand me?” Joe asked stumbling forward. The ground was uneven and rough.
“I
thought you would like to hear Aramaic,” the man said. “For authenticity, you
know?”
“Donavan?”
“Call
me Yeshua.”
“Okay,
Yeshua. Where am I?”
“Right
were you told Donavan to send you. These are the hills of Bethlehem. The Julian
Calendar hasn’t been created yet but it’s four days after the winter solstice,
two-thousand, thirteen years earlier than it was before.”
Okay,
Joe thought. He had fallen off the bridge. This was a drowning hallucination.
He was about to run out of oxygen and the last thing he was seeing was this. He
turned to his companion.
“So
where are the shepherds?” he asked. “Is the angel about to appear?”
“No,”
Yeshua said. “It’s winter. The sheep are kept in barns when it’s this cold.”
“What
about the angel?” Joe said. “So wait, did that not really happen?”
He
saw Yeshua smile in the moonlight. “It happened right here, Joe. Three summers
ago. This hillside lit up like it was daytime. Shepherds heard the message
of the angels and went to Bethlehem and saw the child they had been told about.
But it didn’t happen on this day, this year.”
The
man pointed off toward the hills. “He’s got the same name as me,” he said.
“It’s not an uncommon name. The family stayed there until just a short time ago.
Now he’s in Egypt.”
Joe
nodded and felt the cold go through his jacket. “Why did you bring me here
then?”
“Besides
it’s what you asked?” Yeshua said. “You need to know the reason for the season.
Let’s start by erasing some things. There are a lot of legends surrounding the
story of our Savior’s birth. This would be December 25th, year zero.
But it’s not his birthday. And it’s still early in the story. The Good News has
barely started to spread.”
It
was very quiet then. Even the wind blew almost silently. Joe looked at the
hills in the clean white moonlight and tried to imagine sheep and shepherds.
Was this really the place? Yeshua sighed and lifted his arms. He let go of the
blanket and it drifted to the ground.
“Here
is where the news was first told. Tidings of great joy. Glory to God in the
highest, and on Earth Peace. Goodwill to all men.”
He
lowered his hands and picked up the blanket.
“That’s
what Christmas is all about, Joe,” he said.
Joe
felt laughter bubbling up inside him. What kind of dying vision was this?
Yeshua
held up his hand. “But,” he said. “It’s not the reason for the season.”
“Jesus
is the reason for the season,” Joe said.
“That
sure sounds right. But no.”
Joe
stood and looked at the night sky. Whatever was happening, it seemed real. And
he would just let it happen. It was better than standing on a bridge looking at
his reflection. He felt like walking to Bethlehem. But the ground was difficult
to walk on. He wasn’t dressed right and he didn’t speak the language. Plus it
was colder than he had ever remembered feeling. And he knew there was more he
wanted to see.
“Can
we go now?” he asked.
Yeshua
smiled. “To Christmas present?”
Joe
nodded. “Sure,” he said. “Take me to the present, and show me what there is
there.”
“Someone
else will be there to meet you,” Yeshua said.
“Right,”
Joe said. “The ghost of Christmas Present. Well let’s go.”
He
stumbled and fell again. The ground under him was flat and level and hard like
cement. Light was all around him, out of focus and swimming again.
Then
he heard noise. There was a dull turmoil of voices, music and commotion. The
smells of people hit him next. He had only been on the clear hillside for a
short while, but now the odors were overwhelming. His vision focused. It was a
shopping mall. Decorations and lights were everywhere. People seemed to move
around and past him, paying no heed to a young man crumpled on the floor. He
wondered if they could even see him.
A
big beaming man moved through the crowd. He had on a powder blue suit and tie.
His hair was a styled blond mop and he was carrying what looked like a Bible.
“Praise
the Lord, I say yes!” he trumpeted. His “yes” came out in more than one
syllable like a TV preacher. In fact, everything about this man said TV
preacher. He stopped at Joe and reached his hand down.
“Merry
Christmas my brother!” he shouted. “Hallelujah!”
Joe
let the man help him up. No-one else seemed to see him.
“Are
you my…”
“I
truly am your ghost of Christmas present, praise the Lord,” the man said.
“Brother Jed Rich at your service.”
Joe
sighed. His mind must be fading fast to cook up an image
like this.
“And
you’re Joe,” Brother Jed went on. “Hallelujah, it’s good to meet you. Merry
Christmas.”
“Merry
Christmas,” Joe mumbled. He looked around at burdened shoppers rushing past.
Children of all ages and all moods were everywhere. Kids were singing and
dancing alongside parents, others were wailing and being dragged. Some moody
looking teens stood outside a music store and surveyed the scene with dramatic
contempt.
“The
mall, huh?” he asked. “I’m supposed to find the true meaning of Christmas
here?”
Brother
Jed leaned back and smiled even wider. “What do you see?” he asked.
“I
see the season at its worst,” Joe said. “Sure people are happy, some of them at
least. But look at the commercialism. This is totally what Christmas is not
about.”
Brother
Jed took Joe by the arm and they started to walk. He pointed into shops where
clerks looked exhausted. Lines extended out into walkways. A family went by
with the mom holding a crying baby and pushing a stroller full of packages.
“Commerce,”
Brother Jed said. “Christmas creates a large percentage of business revenue for
the whole year. Without the holiday season, merchants couldn’t pay their
workers. The economy would collapse.”
Joe
walked along and waited for Brother Jed to go on. Any time now, he ought to
explain his point. Christmas was not about commerce. But Brother Jed just kept
walking.
Finally
Joe stopped. “There’s no sign of anything Christmas here,” he told Jed. “All
the signs say ‘happy holidays’ or ‘season’s greetings’. The music is secular.
There are no decorations with anything about the real meaning of Christmas.”
“Come
along over here Joe,” Brother Jed said. “I want to show you something.”
They
walked up to a coffee shop and Brother Jed pointed to a window display then
went into the shop. Joe looked in the window and saw a nativity.
Well
that’s nice, Joe thought. Except wait, is that Santa Claus?
The
nativity set in the window had painted plastic figurines. There was Mary and
Joseph, animals, Shepherds and Wise Men. And by the manger with the Baby Jesus,
there was a kneeling figure of Santa Claus, bowing in reverence.
Brother
Jed walked out of the store with two coffees and his Bible tucked under his
arm. He chuckled.
“I’m
not sure I know what to think about that,” Joe said. “I don’t know if it makes
sense.”
Brother
Jed handed Joe a coffee. “It will make sense,” he said and sipped at his own
cup.
“How
did you get these?” Joe asked.
“That’s
not important Joe. Look around. Tell me what you see.”
“Santa
Claus at a manger. And look, someone also put in a robot figurine too.”
Brother
Jed turned and looked at the display. He pointed and laughed. “It’s him,” he
said. “Now turn around Joe. What do you see out there.”
Joe
turned and looked at the mall.
“A
bunch of people running around, buying stuff.”
“Me
too. Is this Christmas to you?”
“No,”
Joe said.
Brother
Jed took a long drink. Finally he lowered his cup and kept his eyes on Joe. “Really?”
he said. “If you saw a picture of that, you would title it: ‘A mall at
Christmastime’, right?”
Joe
nodded. “Yeah,” he admitted. “This is what Christmas has become.”
“Exactly!” Brother Jed exclaimed.
“Hallelujah! This is what men have created Joe. This is two-thousand, some-odd
years from the night where nothing happened on that hillside in Bethlehem,
don’t you see? Let them celebrate and spend money and do what they want to the
holiday. Do you know what Joe?”
“What?”
“Praise
Jesus!” Brother Jed thrust his arms in the air and coffee splashed on the
window behind him. “This isn’t what our Lord created, Brother. It’s a creation
of mankind. But no matter what idols they raise up, hallelujah, they can’t ever
lose the reason for the season! It’s all around us! It’s everywhere!”
Joe
took a drink of his coffee. It was perfect. The shoppers around him had not
seen Brother Jed’s shouting. He didn’t even get it himself. The mall had seemed
so frantic and miserable. But now, he didn’t know. Brother Jed’s outpouring of
joy had made everyone look just a little less depressing.
“Thanks
for the coffee,” he said.
“My
pleasure brother,” Jed said. “Now where are we off to now?”
“I
don’t know. The future? Christmas to come?”
“Why
not?” said Jed. He glanced at the nativity behind him, then back to Joe. “Hang
on to that coffee, I’ll just snap my fingers, right?”
“Yeah,”
Joe said. “I guess this is goodbye. I’ll have another ghost to show me around
the next place?”
“That’s
right,” Jed said. “It’s been a pleasure.”
“For
me too,” said Joe, surprised to realize he meant it. “I didn’t expect someone
like you here.”
“Wait
until you meet your next host, or ghost,” said Jed. And he burst out laughing.
Joe
gripped his coffee with both hands. If he fell again he wanted to be ready. The
mall went out of focus, and he began to sense he was outdoors. Things were
flying around.
End of part I
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