Real Life Begins in the Here and Now

This article is by Gabe Whitehurst:

Christmas is fast approaching. You know, that two-sided holiday that brings with it an entire month of very specific magic you don’t experience until the tail end of each year: trees, lights, homemade Chex mix, Nat King Cole. All while simultaneously delivering rampant consumerism, tight budgets, and travel plans so complex they resemble calculus. While it can be stressful, I’ve learned as an adult that at Christmas, if you don’t make your own magic you might not experience any. One thinks of Clark Griswold, striving through gritted teeth to give his family a Christmas like the ones he remembers. So stressful, so worth it. I long for the days when there were other adults that handled that part, and my primary jobs were stealing Christmas candy from crystal dishes in my grandparent’s dining room, and staying awake to hear footsteps on the roof.

One way I attempt to make magic every December is by watching some version of A Christmas Carol. I wonder if that story has remained so popular for so long because it helps us endure. We walk away from it with love in our hearts and thankfulness for the present moment — committing ourselves, like Ebenezer Scrooge, to honor Christmas in our hearts and try to keep it all the year. To live in the past, the present, and the future. The spirits of all three striving within us.

And yet, we find that so difficult to carry out. I don’t know about you, but I tend to miss the wonders of life in the here and now because my mind races ever on, distracted by worry. Thoughts of dumb choices I made in the past often rob me of sleep. Fretting over the future has become my brain’s favorite activity.

In the spirit of trying to make our own magic however, take my hand and fly with me, here:

In easy state upon this couch, there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see, who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty’s horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Scrooge, as he came peeping round the door.

‘Come in’ exclaimed the Ghost. ‘Come in, and know me better, man.’ (Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol)

The Ghost of Christmas Present is my favorite of the spirits who visit Scrooge on Christmas Eve. My first introduction to the character was Kenneth Moore’s interpretation from the 1970 musical Scrooge (still my favorite film version of the story, followed closely by A Muppet Christmas Carol). For all the spirit’s boisterous, genial, larger-than-life qualities, there’s a small but wonderful detail I’d never noticed about it until I read the actual text. The spirit wears an empty scabbard at its side:

Girded round its middle was an antique scabbard; but no sword was in it, and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust.

`You have never seen the like of me before.’ exclaimed the Spirit.

`Never,’ Scrooge made answer to it.

In the name of peace on earth and good will to all, the spirit wields no sword, but only a rusty, empty scabbard. Its gleeful charity is for everyone (even the likes of Ebenezer Scrooge) and it isn’t occupied with past failures or future concerns. It exists only in the here and now, and comes not to give punishment, but perspective.

In his book Here and Now, Henri Nouwen noted that God, also, is a God of the present:

The real enemies of our life are the “oughts” and the “ifs.” They pull us backward into the unalterable past and forward into the unpredictable future. But real life takes place in the here and the now. God is a God of the present. God is always in the moment, be that moment hard or easy, joyful or painful. When Jesus spoke about God, he always spoke about God as being where and when you are. “When you see me, you see God. When you hear me, you hear God.” God is not someone who was or will be, but the One who is, and who is for me in the present moment. That’s why Jesus came to wipe away the burden of the past and the worries of the future. He wants us to discover God right where we are, here and now.

Oh, the many storehouses I could fill with my oughts and ifs. But Nouwen helps us here by pointing to a glorious truth of the Gospel I think we often forget: that Jesus doesn’t only step into our lives when we give our hearts to him, stuck in some fixed, liminal space we look back on and wish with sadness we could visit again. No, Jesus is saving us even now, he is remaking us day by day, and he will continue his saving, sanctifying work until he brings us home to be with him. It’s why, in several places, the bible refers to Christians as “those who are being saved”. The salvation offered to us in Jesus is a past, present, and future reality. Every time I begin to rehearse my oughts and ifs, to feel the shame of past failures or worry about what the future holds, the invitation of Christ is simply, “rest”. In other words, “come in, and know me better, man.”

Maybe the best Christmas gift I can offer this year is to lay down my sword in the name of peace on earth and goodwill to all — including myself. If Jesus is in fact Emmanuel, God with us, then this month when the oughts and ifs raise their ugly heads (and they will), I can choose to deny them and be present, trusting that I am loved as I am, here and now. If we take up this mindset then we just might see God. We might know love and the divine mystery of grace in a way we haven’t in quite some time. If we’re present, every cup of coffee is common grace. Every video call to absent friends and family is a miracle. Every board game played with the kids is holy. May we receive it. Merry Christmas.