Some people get the Christmas blues , but others get a post-holiday letdown. (I write after a morning in the office on December 26). After all of the fuss about the spirit of the season and all of the prattle about the joy of the season as we turn to the new year,some things remain the same: another hospital call to make, the door buzzing with people seeking help, my mind and body a bit foggy as i forgot to take medicine on Christmas night. After too much time with family, people seem especially on edge after Christmas.I had a great time with our daughters and son-in-law but maybe saying goodbye left me feeling dispirited.
I watched some old Christmas episodes from fifties television yesterday. They all centered on giving people a hand on Christmas Eve, on that special night. Our office is constantly paged for help, as Alton seems determined to become a replica of East St. Louis. One of my spiritual exercises for 2014 is to resist my resentment when the needy get demanding about receiving handouts. I expect meek subservience in exchange for help, I suppose. On the other hand,so many of the people seeking help are mentally ill. I made myself a mental note on my morning walk to write to our state representatives, as I have in the past, with no answer, to consider finally moving toward a generation-long neglect of the mentally ill. If we finally get our pension issue resolved, it is time for us to address this stunning example of social negligence. Since we closed the large facilities, smaller scale help is hard to come by, especially when we have chosen to make it so hard to have people committed.
I got to listen to a number of the spiritual but not religious people regale me with what older churches need to do. One of the constants in their diatribes is the plea for money from churches. In the same breath, they complain that churches do not do enough to help people’s basic human needs, but they contribute not a penny to those causes, as if an organization conjures money from the ether. They continue to see worship as a sort of performance art, not as participation in prayer together.
I got a rare chance to be part of a multi-member phone call with the member of Congress.. the representative has an interestikng political gambit, voting with the radical right but speaking about interest in compromise and working together.At least, the member learned that not all clergy agree with his ill-cosnidered idea of Christina social ethics. He praises private charity but seems utterly bereft of the public responsibility for social welfare, including an economic base in a rust belt district. While b being pro-life, the official apparently moves from conception to birth, as immediately we were regaled with the importance of taking the SNAP (food stamp) program to be cut. “Faith-based policies” showed no awareness of Roman Catholic social teaching and then topping it off by misattributing a Chinese proverb to Jesus.
Once again had dispiriting conversations with folks who see all human troubles as individually caused. We have trained folks to have an incapacity to look at the social level of life. Worse, we have become unsophisticated Christian Scientists who believe less in mind over matter but in positive thoughts control matter.
In the original words of have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, judy Garland sang, “until then, we have to muddle through somehow.” Instead of marhcing to a martial beat toward a grand plan, we take a few steps at a time, buoyed by the magic of the season, fi only for a while. Large scale change rarely comes quickly, so progress is measured with care and precision.
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