Boxing Day

Boxing Day

“But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment will ever touch them.” Wisdom 3:1

Christmas card my brother Jimmy and I sent out together in 1959

My experience is that those who have known the death of a loved one around Christmas may find the holidays not always a joyful time in their memory.

My brother died in December four years ago in 2014 on Boxing Day, the second day of Christmas. He died less than four months after his 70th birthday, almost exactly at the same age as our father died. My brother was born on Labor Day and died on Boxing Day. We will have to work on the significance of all that.

Boxing Day is traditionally the day after Christmas when servants in English households receive a gift from their employer in a “box”, and of course Labor Day honors those who are working and gives them an extra day of rest. I do know Jim loved Christmas. My brother also died on the day our church calendar honors Stephen, the first deacon and martyr. I don’t know about a martyr, but my brother was definitely a survivor. He had open-heart surgery, three cancers and at least three strokes.

I did something I have never done before shortly after my brother died. I prayed asking him what he would like for us to say about him. I have given many funeral homilies but never have prayed that question directly to the person who died. I now wish I had. This is what immediately came to me that my brother said: ”I tried to be a good man, and I loved my family.”

“I tried to be a good man, and I loved my family.” So that was my message from my brother. I know he dearly loved his family and was very proud of his three sons. He loved his community, serving faithfully as a banker, a member of the Boys and Girls Club, and the school board.

I know my brother especially loved his church where he served faithfully.

Since the Episcopal Church is a love we both shared, we talked about it often. Only once did we have the privilege of serving at an altar together. That was at our mother’s funeral where we both were Eucharistic ministers serving the chalice.

My brother was an eight o’clock churchgoer. They are a different breed, a little more private, a little quieter, sometimes a little more reserved. They get the ear of the rector after the service, as there are so few people present that early.

My brother loved serving on the vestry, another rare breed. If an eight o’clocker is a lector or Eucharistic minister, they serve more often than those at the later service as my brother did. I tried to talk my brother into becoming a deacon, which I think could have happened if he had had a little more time. The church is in the genes of our family. It comes out in many different forms, but we cannot escape it.

My brother was a believer and there is no doubt that he now lives in the resurrection, just as he experienced so many resurrections in this life.

So today I am sharing with you some memories of my brother, my only sibling. I daily miss him especially on the holidays. I remember how when we were children we would wake up in the early morning on Christmas, too excited to sleep, and lie together in bed hoping by some miracle that our parents would wake up early. He so loved Christmas. I honor him by sharing Christmas stories about him and celebrating the holiday as he so loved to do. He always brought joy to my life and I hope to keep sharing that joy especially at this time of the year. Sometimes when our family is sharing stories I can hear his distinctive laugh, and I give thanks for our life together.

Joanna joannaseibert.com

Buechner: Unwrapping the Gift of Christmas

Buechner: Gift of Christmas

“O Lord, the gift of new life, new light, can be a gift truly only if we open ourselves to receive it. So this is our prayer, Lord: that thou wilt open our eyes to see thy glory in the coming again of light each day, open our ears to hear the angels’ hymn in the stirring within us of joy at the coming of the child, open our hearts to the transforming power of thy love as it comes to us through the love of all those who hold us most dear and have sacrificed most for us.

Be born among us that we may ourselves be born. Be born within us that by words and deeds of love we may bear the tidings of thy birth to the world that dies for lack of love. Amen” Frederick Buechner, “Come and See,” Secrets in the Dark A Life in Sermons, p. 55. HarperSanFrancisco 2006.

The gift of Christmas is the incarnation, a big word that means that God loves us so much that God came among us and became human. It was and is a gift. The gift of the incarnation also extends to us as it did to Mary. There is a part of God born in us and in every other person we will meet.

Advent is a time for us to prepare to honor the Creator by learning how to keep unwrapping that gift that we celebrate receiving during the Christmas season.

My granddaughter and I have a tradition of spending time together wrapping presents beginning in October. Wrapping gifts that soon will be unwrapped becomes a significant part of my year during this time.

As I meet with people in spiritual direction I cannot help but imagine how they are unwrapping that gift of the Christ Child in themselves. We as spiritual friends have the privilege of watching and waiting for the excitement of Christmas morning with them. When some realize that Christ is in them, they excitedly unwrap the present almost tearing the paper apart. Others unwrap the gift slowly and cautiously.

We as observers also receive a gift, for the gift of the Christ Child is too powerful to keep and must be shared. Spiritual friends help us unwrap the gift in ourselves as well. The gift that now shines so brightly in them assists us in unwrapping that gift of the Christ child in ourselves.

All of our experiences are different, but the gift is continually offered to all of us by the One whose name is Love.

Joanna joannaseibert.com

12/24/68 and Love

12/24/68 and love

“But the greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13:13

Earthrise 12/24/68 from Apollo 8

If you were alive on December 24, Christmas Eve, 1968, to see this picture from Apollo 8, do you remember what else you were doing? I remember much but also remember so little. My husband and I were interns at John Gaston City of Memphis Hospital working that night so we missed the traditional Christmas Eve services. Instead we went to the quieter Christmas Day services at St. Mary’s Cathedral that next morning. We were not married until the next year, but it was a special Christmas, the first holiday we were able to be together. I do not remember the patients I took care of that night or what presents we gave each other for Christmas. I do remember that our best friend, Charles Stallings, taught us how to make gold and red Christmas ornament balls that we hung on that first tree. We still have some of the large balls, and we try to tell our grandchildren, Zoe and Turner, about them as they traditionally help us hang them or occasionally have fun literally tossing the decorative balls on the upper limbs of our tree each year.

The most memorable part, however, of that first Christmas was that I was invited to meet Robert’s parents for Christmas dinner that night at their home. I don’t remember what we ate but, I do remember the red dress I wore. I was so nervous. I was damaged goods, and I feared that they would not be able to like or much less love me. I had been divorced, and Robert was in the process of being divorced. I remember how they accepted me with open arms and treated me as if I were a lovable person from the start. Their unconditional love and care never ended. I still feel their presence today even though they have been dead for some time.

The only way I can continue to return that love is pay it forward today to my children and their children and their spouse’s families. I remember when Elizabeth died that I would pray that if she would continue to watch over her grandchildren that I would care for her husband, Bob. I didn’t keep up my part of the bargain as well as she did. I could always have done more.

I know that love never dies. Bob and Elizabeth have taught me that. I still feel the unconditional love they showed to me in so many ways even today almost fifty years later. It is a presence. It is a feeling. It is knowledge. It is present in their only son who also knows much more about unconditional love than I do. I also see it in their three grandchildren whom they loved so dearly. I know love can change the world, one person, one family at a time. I have seen it.

Joanna joannaseibert.com