“The
virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him
Immanuel” —which means, “God with us.” Matthew
1: 23
I never cared for the Christmas breakfast. It was a mandatory affair at
the college where I worked, an event that occurred every Christmas just before semester
break. To me, it was always kind of a waste of time. A little boring really. But
the Christmas breakfast of 2001 was anything but boring. In fact it changed my
life.
“Can I have your attention, please?” The Dean of Health Sciences tapped
her microphone. “It’s time to eat. Now I hear Pat says a good prayer,” she
continued, smiling and looking my way. My eyebrows rose. “Pat? Would you say
the blessing for us?”
All eyes turned my way.
“Umm—” I gave an embarrassed shrug. “Sure.”
I felt honored as I accepted the microphone, but also a bit confused. Who
told her I said a good prayer? And if I did pray, would people be, well…offended?
I shrugged, asked them to bow their heads and began. I thanked God for
America, and that in the wake of 9/11 we still had our families our homes and
our lives. I thanked Him for our jobs, and for freedom and friends and peace. I
thanked him for the food, and everything was going well, but then I went and
did it. His name rolled off my lips.
“And thank you most of all for Christmas, and for what it still means to
us. That two thousand years ago our savior was born, The Lord Jesus Christ.” I
ended the prayer in his name, and closed with a hearty, “Amen.”
When I opened my eyes I realized we had a problem. No one moved. I saw
confusion on many faces, anger on many others. Most looked stunned, several definitely
offended. I felt like running for the exit doors, but then I saw a timid smile
appear on one person’s face. And then another. And then slowly, and meekly at
first, someone began to clap. Soon others joined in, and after a moment half
the room was caught up in celebration. The other half still frowned.
Now I felt stunned. But then several people wandered over. “Thank you,”
someone whispered to me. “Oh, thank you!” another exclaimed. “That was so
great!”
A friend walked up to me shaking his head. “Are you nuts? Don’t you
realize the Dean’s a Jew?”
“Jesus was a Jew,” I replied. “Merry Christmas!”
You can’t say Christmas around here anymore; it’s now the holiday season
or some nonsense like that. And they never asked me to say the blessing again,
but that’s okay, I learned a valuable lesson that day: Some people are truly offended
by His name, others are filled with courage. So this “holiday season” as you
get caught up in the bustle of buying gifts and running here and there, share his
name with others, and then tell them, “Merry Christmas.” Some will be offended,
but others will be filled with hope. It’s not the holiday season—it’s Christmas.
“Merry Christmas!”
