Forget the Turkey; Pass the Mozzarella Sticks

Thanksgiving Day is fine. It's nice. For my money, though, the big date on the calendar this weekend is "Happy Christmas Tree Day!"

For my wife and my two daughters, the day after Thanksgiving has been claimed as our tradition. Snatching it from the jaws of Black Friday frenzy, instead we commit that day to cutting down a tree, wrestling it into a corner of our living room, and spending the day decorating it and the rest of the house while listening to various renditions of carols, most notably from the Charlie Brown Christmas Soundtrack. We slowly and purposefully tell stories about ornaments, carefully arrange our mantel with our nativity scene and the stockings Emily has hand-sewn for us, and page through our favorite Christmas books. The evening concludes with a supper by candlelight, accented by elegant tableware and a very specific recipe from the Fancy Nancy children's book series for fancy punch. We then proceed to stuff our faces with all manner of unhealthy appetizers: mini-corn dogs, mozzarella sticks, little smokies, and assorted desert. It is an essential tradition.

I've been thinking about traditions and rituals such as these lately as I've progressed through the Biblical exposition course I've been sparring with over the past couple of weeks. During our Old Testament Narrative unit, we studied the Passover event in Exodus 12 where the Angel of the Lord, in his quest to kill all the first-born Egyptians as the final plague, passes over the homes of the Israelites with thresholds painted in lamb's blood. As we studied how we would go about teaching this particular passage, something glaring stood out: of the 51 verses in that chapter about one of the pivotal moments in the entire Old Testament, 33 of them are devoted to how to observe and celebrate this event each year. The author of the book spends two-thirds of the book establishing the essential nature of the ritual rather than relating the event itself. Why?

The reason given in the text is this: "This day shall be to you a memorial . . . throughout your generations" (14), "for you and your sons forever" (24). Quite simply, it's so that they don't forget. Is it really necessary, though? Do they really need tradition and ritual to remember the God who has saved them, the series of events where they saw the very hand of God, and the priorities that have established them? Apparently. For in Chapter 13, a mere two pages over, the entire lot of them has escaped and is facing the Red Sea. And instead of having faith in the One who just freed them through 10 punishing, miraculous plagues, they despair of hopelessness and cry out for the opportunity to return to their bondage. Foolish, foolish people. Yes, we are.

I have no reason at all to forget how important my family is, how much we value Christmas and time together, and how good my wife is to all of us. Those are fundamental truths and priorities in my life that have been omnipresent. Yet "Happy Christmas Tree Day!" serves as a timely reminder to me of what I hold dear. The same is true of my anniversary, of some yearly summer gatherings, and several other traditions that we observe. I was once asked by a colleague about my common church attendance. The first response that came to my head: "I need a weekly reminder that I am not God."

We need rituals and traditions to keep the truth in us. Our self-centeredness and our bondage to the immediate in our lives causes us to feebly forget the truths that we hold so dear: the love of our spouse and family, the reason we do our work, and what we want out of our lives. For Christians, even more necessary is the reminder from Christmas, Easter, and the sacraments that we are sinners, miraculously forgiven.

Whoever you are and whatever your priorities, celebrate well in your rituals and traditions. Observe your priorities, and then observe them again next year. Remember. Refocus. Smile. Repeat. There are some things in life too unforgettable to allow ourselves to forget.