Peggy Dover

You know when you wake with department store holiday jingles dancing through your head instead of sugar plums, something is off kilter. It could mean I’m watching too much TV. It also indicates that the ad men of these mega-whopper stores are earning their sugar plum salaries.

This morning it was Target’s catchy mantra, “I never knew there was a love like this before.” This was originally from a love song by Faith Evans. Are they actually wanting us to buy that shopping makes us feel loved? Or just wanting us to buy and using the fundamental need for love as bait.

Then there’s Walmart’s message of “Share the joy, not the toy.” “One for me, one for you.” That’s a good one for Christmas, don’t you think? I mean, I can show much more joy to the world by not sharing that last pecan maple shortbread cookie.

OK, I’m not on a witch hunt during this week of weeks. At least they know to tie in with love, joy and gladness, even if greed is the motivator. There I go. I’m just beginning to tire of hearing about all the amazing deals and all the great things there are to do and all the groups who need help. Yes, even good charities. It’s never enough.The holiday hype is building to a familiar crescendo. Time to come up for air.

I am creator of my own hype, welcoming it into my life with ticket purchases, caroling and tree lightings, baking, holiday light tours, tree decorating and classic movies, and … I have attended several events that cater to eliciting the joys of the season, and they do, well the fun anyway if not actual joy, when my back isn’t hurting and I’ve had enough sleep. I’ve attended two plays and will see a third on Christmas Eve. I love live theater and supporting the arts. Contributing to worthy causes is on the list. There are friends to visit, and I still have gifts to purchase. Is there no escape from the good?

Believe it or else, I have tried to limit the hype in my own house and instead consider the humble manger that my faith teaches is the central part of Christmas, but hype happens. Clamor encroaches within the folds of good things. Every nonprofit seems to be suffering a shortfall and entreats for funding — to bestow good will toward men and women and animals and the planet. All good things that we are told to do.

Humanity is in need and always has been. It seems to me that the more we have, the more our need shows. There’s a peace that eludes us, though we know it exists somewhere. It’s closer than we realize.

Einstein said that peace can’t be kept by force, but by understanding. I think that peace has to first be met before it can be kept. And it’s not humility that wins votes, feeds power, or makes one famous. That’s why I can respect a sympathetic God king who entered into the fray humbly as a baby — one of us with all of our hurts and temptations.

Sometimes, at a noisy gathering, I slip outside and look at the stars for a reset. When holiday jollies get to be a bit much, the hope that lay squalling in the manger on a night fraught with wonder and trepidation is my happy place. It’s the lowly ones who are chosen to demonstrate his story, not the proud. The message of forgiveness is made accessible and relatable in a smelly barn, not a palace.

Jesus left perfection and waded into the fray. So, this season, I have tried to enter into the celebration and falderal with the manger as a reminder so that goodwill is at the forefront. I often fail.

Merry Christmas, indeed. A light still shines during the darkest times.