The Real Work Begins

Third Saturday of Advent

Originally posted Tuesday, January 5, 2016

For a few years at Christmas our church has hosted an interactive Bethlehem experience called “One Starry Night.” One of the small miracles that occurs each time is that after a year of planning and preparation, a full week of setting up, and three hours with hundreds of people in the marketplace, it takes just ninety minutes to put it all away. 

As soon as our King Herod declares, “Bethlehem is now under curfew,” and the last guest has cleared the market, the lights come on and everybody scrambles to take down the tents, pack up the crafts and supplies, and cart everything away. We even have a few volunteers who come specifically to help “sack the village,” as I describe it. 

I’ve made this speedy takedown a special mission of mine—for reasons that I will explain in a moment—but I have to admit that I anticipate putting Christmas away as much if not more than bringing it all out. While I do love Christmas and all its sights and sounds and especially the tastes and smells, I always look forward to the ordinary flow of life that returns after the holidays. I don’t think that makes me a Grinch, and I hope it doesn’t make me a Scrooge, but during Christmas it seems that so much grinds to a halt while there is still important work that needs to be done. 

I’m usually ready to sing “Joy to the World” in a different way when the calendar changes, but one year on New Year’s Day as we began packing away Christmas at home, I remembered the words of Howard Thurman’s poem, “The Work of Christmas”:

When the song of the angels is stilled, 
When the star in the sky is gone, 
When the kings and princes are home, 
When the shepherds are back with their flock, 
The work of Christmas begins: 
To find the lost, 
To heal the broken, 
To feed the hungry, 
To release the prisoner, 
To rebuild the nations, 
To bring peace among people, 
To make music in the heart.

The first year we did One Starry Night, we cleaned it up quickly because everything had to be back to normal for church on Sunday morning. But the next year we worked even faster because Gateway of Grace, a ministry that works with refugees, was to host a Christmas luncheon the next day for some three hundred people from ten countries. After we had removed all traces of Bethlehem, some of us stayed a while longer to help roll out tables and chairs. We did it because Gateway of Grace is truly doing the work of Christmas as they help refugees from around the world find a safe footing in North Texas. 

That same year the ongoing work of Christmas was magnified by tornadoes that struck North Texas the night after Christmas, leaving hundreds of families who had just opened new gifts with nothing but new sorrows. Just two blocks from our house, our city park was the resource center for people who needed food, clothing, and shelter, and untold numbers of people from the community and beyond who answered the call to do the work of Christmas in providing resources. 

LeAnn and I experienced the work of Christmas in other new ways that same year. On New Year’s Eve our neighbors across the street invited us to a celebration with their extended family. Their language and food are different from ours, but we understood their laughter and hospitality and together experienced that last item in Thurman’s poem: music in the heart. 

On New Year’s Day a longtime friend stopped by with cornbread and a pot of black-eyed peas, and we spent the noontime sharing stories of life’s love and loss. And the next morning we found ourselves at a “Prayer on the Square” gathering in a downtown restaurant, where Tammy, our gracious host, kept coffee cups full while a couple of dozen concerned citizens prayed for their community. Good Christmas work for sure. 

So, while most of us pack Christmas away for another year, let’s not pack away the work of Christmas. There is plenty more to do on that list in Thurman’s poem.

(Poem used with permission. This post is included in my upcoming book on “community” to be released in early 2021.)