The view from the window that faces the green space in our backyard is a stark reminder to let go. Barren tree branches that only weeks ago were bursting with color parallel the absence of Christmas lights and décor that only weeks ago illumined streets and homes. Seasons, both liturgical and cultural, are interwoven, making the Christian journey a process of separating the wheat from chaff.
To help us discern what is important and what is simply window dressing, we turn to Jesus, who came into the world with the humility and poverty of God on full display. Only weeks ago, we celebrated the Nativity of Our Lord. Now that it has passed, we do well to look deeper into the message as well as to the Messenger, and cultural wisdom can assist us.
The month of January is a time when many people decide to organize. Perhaps it’s because it follows a season when organization and regular schedules are often tossed aside. Or it could be that since the weather is cold and we spend more time indoors, clutter and disorganization are a glaring contradiction to Gospel values that seem to cry out, “Less is more.”
Consequently, every year at this time, I find myself cleaning out closets, sorting through clutter, and perusing the shelves of my bookcase. Inevitably I find things I no longer need or use, indicating it’s time to part ways. This triggers the real question: Am I only donating what I no longer need, or can I be like the widow in the Gospel and give from my substance?
It’s an important question that is unsettling. The reason for my dilemma is that it strikes at the heart of the first Beatitude: “Blessed are the poor” (Lk 6:20) as well as “Blessed are the poor in spirit” (Mt 5:3). That means I am to share and declutter, not only from my excess, but from my want. I struggle with this concept because it’s always easier to write about ideals and Gospel values than to live them, which demands some soul searching on my part.
Another thing I’ve discovered regarding the annual clean out is that one of the hardest things to part with are objects that have sentimental value: a candle holder from a friend, a small icon from a directee, an angel that one of my granddaughters gave me for Christmas. While I’m tempted to place them in the donate pile, only to put them back, I have to remind myself that it was the thoughtfulness of the giver, not the object itself, that should resonate deep within, and that the best way to honor them is to lift them in prayer and ask God to bless them for their generosity.
There are still some things that I doubt I’ll ever part with. One is a book that I use every day. My Liturgy of the Hours prayer book was given to me more than forty years ago by our pastor, Father Don, when we lived in Huntsville, Alabama. He was a trusted spiritual guide, and before we moved, he presented me with a copy of the Liturgy of the Hours. Although it took more than five years before praying the official prayer of the Church became a daily practice, it serves as a reminder that our spiritual development takes place in stages.
These days, the cover of the prayer book has been reinforced with clear contact paper several times, the ribbons have been replaced at least twice, and rounded page corners bear witness to regular usage over time. The book has more than sentimental value and is more than an object. It serves as a gateway to the psalms, and although they were written centuries ago, they continue to resonate on a deeper level, much like the words of Father Don.
As it turns out, my annual purging is more than an opportunity to clean house and organize; it’s a trip down memory lane. And yet, I’m reminded of Jesus’ warning that putting new wine into old wineskins will cause them to burst.
As precious as memories may be, we are called to live in the present with an eye toward the future, where we hope to meet old friends and family members in heaven. Sharing my thoughts reminds me that the new year is a good time to give thanks for what has been, what is and for what is to come.
Barbara Hughes is an award-winning author, retreat facilitator and spiritual guide. She lives in Virginia Beach and can be reached at [email protected].