By the time we reach the beginning of December, the Christmas shopping season is in full swing. While the relentless commercialism may be regrettable, the emphasis on gift-giving has its positive points. At least for a while, in the middle of our “You Deserve It!” culture, we are focused on desires other than our own. Wanting to bring a moment of joy to someone we care about is certainly not a bad thing. I would like to propose that we expand our Christmas gift-giving list by at least one person. Or perhaps Three Persons.
What gift can we give to God, at this season when we celebrate the birth in the flesh of His Only-Begotten Son? What can we possibly give to the One who very literally has everything? What can we give Him that He, the Creator of the universe, does not already have?
Our Lord said that "the first and great commandment" is "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind," (Matthew 22:37-38). But do we?
The wandering seeker in that classic book on the Jesus prayer, The Way of a Pilgrim, asked incredulously "How is it possible not to love God our Creator and preserver?" But the wise old monk to whom he had gone for confession responded, "Turning my eyes carefully upon myself and watching the course of my inward state, I have verified by experience that I do not love God.... For if I loved God I should be continually thinking about Him with heartfelt joy. Every thought of God would give me gladness and delight. On the contrary, I much more eagerly think about earthly things, and thinking about God is labor and dryness. If I loved God, then talking with Him in prayer would be my nourishment and delight and would draw me to unbroken communion with Him. But, on the contrary, I not only find no delight in prayer, but even find it an effort.... If one person loves another, he thinks of him throughout the day without ceasing, he pictures him to himself, he cares for him, and in all circumstances his beloved friend is never out of his thoughts. But I, throughout the day, scarcely set aside even a single hour in which to sink deep down into meditation upon God, to inflame my heart with love of Him..."
That's the condition in which most of us find ourselves. It's not actually where we want to be, just someplace we've found ourselves without having paid much attention to how we got there.
In this season of celebrating the coming of Christ, we can offer Him something that He desires more than gold or frankincense or myrrh. We can give Him something that He cannot create for Himself. We can offer Him our freely-given love. And if when we look into our hearts, we find no feeling of love for God, we can begin by acting the way we would if that feeling were there, and let our emotions catch up in their own good time.
Why should our love for God be less than that of infatuated teenagers for the boy or girl of their dreams? Do they call only once a day? Or do they text every fifteen minutes? We can stop to talk to God morning and evening in prayer; we can pause for the Jesus Prayer or just "Lord, have mercy" between the tasks of the day. We can rush eagerly to His house every chance we get, (especially for His birthday). We can read and reread every letter He ever sent us (in the Scriptures). We can talk about Him with endless enthusiasm to anyone who knows us both. And our love for God will grow, as we offer the gift of our heart – and our time, and our attention – to Him, until it becomes a likeness of His love for us.
As St. Herman of Alaska (whom we commemorate on the thirteenth of this month) said, "For our good, for our happiness, at least let us make a promise to ourselves, that from this day, from this hour, from this very moment we shall strive to love God above all."