Feed Shark When I Grow Up: February 2011

08 February 2011

Evergreen . . . No More

The joke's on the Christmas tree, New Year's is here
The king of the living room's out on his ear
You take back the gifts that you laid at his feet
And you drag the old tannebaum out to the street

We took back the star that he thought was his crown

We packed up in papers his bright-colored gown
The lights and the ornaments back on the shelf
His majesty now can take of himself

And it's nay, nay, nay never

Nay nay never no more
Shall he stay green forever
He's evergreen no more

In a ditch by the roadside he dies like a dog

What once was the Christmas tree now is a log
Broken brown branches half-buried in snow
Are bones of a hero one Christmas ago

And it's nay, nay, nay never

Nay nay never no more
Shall he stay green forever
He's evergreen no more

But if you look closely, it's easy to see

A tangle of tinsel is caught in the tree
That one badge of honor is all that remains
Of those glorious Christmas tree evergreen days

And it's nay, nay, nay never

Nay nay never no more
Shall he stay green forever
He's evergreen no more



Copyright - David Wilcox



We didn't even get a tree put up this year (long story that essentially comes down to Sunday afternoon laziness restfulness on the part of yours truly and two of the three children), but this time of year they are seen in quite different places than in December.  I see them on the side of the road, in the back of pickup trucks headed to the lake, and in roadside trash dumps nearly everyday.

Christmas trees are done.

Kindling.

Firewood.

Fish habitats.

Mulch.

Eyesores.

They are last year's news and last year's trouble. 

Maybe a few of the trees will make it to a recycling station to be re-purposed.


Tinsel finds itself in robin's nests and mangled into grassy tangles in a roadside ditch for the Adopt-a-Highway crews to clean up when the gullies dry and the sun warms the days.

Ornaments are packed away in attics, under beds, in storage buildings, and basements to enjoy their long winter's nap all the way through Spring, Summer, and Fall.  

They remind me that we take Christmas too lightly and too seasonally.  Christmas long ago became an exercise in commercialism run more by the marketing gurus than by the Church.

I'd just as soon not put up a Christmas tree, but I would rather we sang "Joy to the World" and "Silent Night" at least once a month as part of worship - ALL YEAR LONG!

The world stills itself  for a few hours in the midst of the mad rush to the mall or some office party or family gathering to listen to the first few chapters of Luke for a few minutes.  Maybe someone throws in Matthew's version and very seldom John's "And the Word became flesh . . ." but that all happens in December.  We need to celebrate in January, February and July the Truth of those words.

Thankfully, the story endures regardless of the season and regardless of our daily rituals of practical atheism.

And it grows into something more than an evergreen tree to be discarded along a roadside.

More than a tree, lights, ornaments, songs, and the kindling of a fire by a discarded piece of resin-soaked fat wood; the story starts a fire in the hearts of His people that cares not the season because there always remains a need for the burning into our hearts and understanding of the love, the tenderness, the sacrifice and the holiness that makes the Christmas season possible.

As Frederick Buechner says, "In the darkness of that Judean night, in the midst of nowhere, to parents who were nobody, the child was born, and whoever it was that delivered him slapped his bare backside to start the breath going, and he cried out, as each one of us cried out, at the shock and strangeness of being born into the darkness of the world.  Then, as the Gospels picture it, all heaven broke loose." - Come and See

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