This post was in my draft folder and in the spirit of trying to compile experiences and reflections, I've updated it for this year. I'm surprised that even after 2 years, so many topics remain relevant. Thank you for reading. May all the blessings of this holiday season be with you throughout the year!
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As long as I can remember, Christmas has been my favorite season. Beginning with a big, gorgeous (and REAL!) tree the day after Thanksgiving, the season continued with community service, introspection and reflection, baking, church services, song, and much, much, merriment. In looking back, now from a completely different vantage, shopping was also a big part of the season, but in my family, it was never about TVs, camcorders, and new cellphones, but about the tireless effort to find just the right thing for all the right people; sometimes it was something small (a pack of gum to joke with a friend who can't seem to live without it) to the video game with the music that you swore you couldn't stand. The point of the shopping was about showing the people we care about that we remember them and love them - idiosyncrasies and all.
Christmas is, after all, about love. There are many ways to show it and the month of Christmas would be spent working to show it - in as many ways as possible.
For many of us, those ways begin in the pews. We know about Christmas because it's our faith tradition. We celebrate Christmas because it reminds us of God's gift to the world, Jesus Christ; God made flesh to live, love, and even suffer among us in human form.
I came to Indonesia as a missionary; not to proselytize, not to "plant churches", not to even really talk about my faith, but to serve.
It's been more than five years since I've worked as a missionary, but in reality, I've never stopping working towards that ultimate call to "be the Church".
It's easy to get caught up in what that means. In a place where religion is as much a part of one's identity (and even social status) as faith, it can be a challenge.
Daily I am reminded that the life of Christ, much like any of our lives, is seen through the eye of the beholder. What is "Christian" to some is arguably NOT to others. What makes the foundation of my faith may, or may not be, what fortifies the faith (or religious practices) of other Christians. Regardless, we are called to be the Body of Christ. For the past seven years I've been trying to find that place, been trying to be a part of the church of believers. I've been trying, to the best of my human ability, to follow Christ the Redeemer.
As an outsider, I'm thankful that I don't have to put my religion on an ID card. I'm thankful for the privilege that allows me to practice my faith in the way I know as an American and not in the tracks of colonial empire. It is a privilege and I am thankful, but I'm also sad.
I'm sad that I can't engage in the traditions and conversations that predominate in my culture. I miss the opportunity to "do" things that make me feel good and hopefully help others. One year we "adopted" a family; a single mom with two or three children. That year, for the first time in my life, I had a decent job and a little disposable income. I didn't spend much - maybe $200 - but I bought what was on the list and I spent as much time on that as I would with someone I knew. The bathrobe had to be a nice one...and on sale...the other things had to be things that anyone I knew would love to have. I threw in some extra things that I loved when I was killing myself to make ends meet...a pretty pair of earrings, fragrant bath and beauty products. I had put my heart into that endeavor and it felt good. When I was struggling as a single mom, I received a little basket from a Sunday school class for Mother's Day one year. I remembered how much it meant to have pretty things for me. Of course it's a blessing to receive baby clothes and other related needs, but mommies have needs, too. It felt good to finally be able to (hopefully) return that feeling. I miss that.
One day a few years ago I was sharing some of those things with my Mom. True to form, she said "Well Charlotte - you're going to have to create new traditions". And also true to form, I tried to do what she advised.
In 2014, we began hosting an intimate Christmas gathering. The first year consisted of a small group of friends - we all had our stories and together we shared our joys and struggles. The next year we added a few more, and the next a few more, and this year, 2017, was the largest of them all, but the spirit of peace, joy, friendship, and togetherness remained.
This new tradition is a blessing for me - it's the one time of year I can "be me", with all my idiosyncrasies and silliness. Most of all, I can express my faith in a new and very real way. You see, I neglected to mention that our Christmas gathering is always an interfaith event. I have taken part in religious-but-not-my-religion gatherings for babies, marriages, housewarmings, and more, but our Christmas gathering is the one time that I can share my traditions, my joy, and my sense of love and happiness with the people I appreciate every day throughout the year.
The menu is a "fusion" of Southern American and Indonesian selections - bean soup and rice are a staple, as are rum balls and bourbon balls, but this year we added a tray of fried treats - tempeh (tempe goreng), corn fritters (dada jagung), and potato croquettes (perkadel), not to mention the famed "tape ketan hitam" (fermented black sticky rice wrapped in leaves). We have coffee and tea and special concoctions whipped up by an extremely talented friend. There is laughter and comraderie. It is the highlight of my year.
So while I miss the very American aspects of a Southern Christmas season, there's much to be said for creating new traditions. I'm thankful to share love and appreciation with friends and to have this opportunity to feel peace, joy, and love abounding.
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