“What do you want for Christmas?” I used to be so eager to make a list when I was asked that question: toys, games, bicycles and balls –everything you’d expect. And then as I got older and on into adulthood, the wants evolved into clothing, electronics and gadgets. I quit presenting a list but would name a few things if asked. I’m slow to respond at all now because I don’t want anything.
“OK, then what do you need?” Alright, that’s a different question, and I do have some needs. Or do I? My needs are mostly “first-world needs” – things like a rubber cargo space protector for the new SUV or the latest smart phone upgrade. Those would be nice to have, but they’re conveniences and not real needs.
Last Sunday morning in the adult Bible study in Wilshire’s McIver Chapel, we read Wendell Berry’s poem, “The Wild Geese.” He talks about seeing geese flying overhead and how all they need is to do and be what they were created to do and be. And then he says, “What we need is here.” He doesn’t say, “What we want . . .” No, he’s talking about needs, and we often get the two confused. Or maybe that’s just me.
The Christmas carol “O Little Town of Bethlehem” has a line at the end of the first verse – “the hopes and fears of all the years” – which in the context of this discussion might be read as “the needs and wants that crowd our thoughts,” because a lot of our hopes and fears are about what we desire and our worry about not getting it – whether it’s something crucial or trivial.
Which brings us back to Christmas, because the full line in the carol is, “the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.” Christmas changes everything, because all our wants and needs are dissolved by the Christ who we first meet as the newborn baby of Christmas. In the eternal life we are promised through his death and resurrection, the wants and needs of this life become as meaningless as the vapor of our mortal breath.
But what about right now? We have needs — or at least we think we do. I’m not here to shame anyone about what they say they need. It’s a very personal matter; a need that seems frivolous to me might be the key to life-changing contentment and peace for someone else.
Meanwhile, there are people around us who truly need the most basic provisions of life: food, shelter, clothing, love, meaningful relationships, external and internal peace. For those of us who have all those things and then some, we might find there’s a bonus to helping others in a tangible way. Turning the thought, “I want to help people less fortunate than me,” into real action might be just what we need to get our own selves straight in a spiritual way.
Advent is a good time to reflect on some of these things and adjust our expectations and priorities. I’m working on mine. That SUV cargo liner I mentioned? A flattened cardboard box is doing the job. My old cell phone is just fine, too.