All you have to do is believe
Lori Borgman | Monday, Dec 20, 2010
Jimmy is 42 years old, short in stature, has a receding hairline and
an easy smile. Jimmy has Down syndrome. He paints delicate abstract water colors
that look like cherry blossoms. And he believes in Santa.
When Jimmy was a small boy, his parents were unsure how he would
process the Santa legend so they told him they were Mommy Santa and Daddy Santa.
But now Jimmy wants to see the real Santa. When people tell Jimmy
that Santa isn’t real, he says, “Yes he is. All you have to do is believe.”
Believe.
It sounds so easy when Jimmy says it.
Here we are in the midst of the Christmas season, a season so rich
with belief that Macy’s has made Believe their official trademark. “Macy’s – A
million reasons to Believe.”
Yet the real and rather gritty Christmas narrative features a cast
of characters that struggled to believe.
When Zacharias was serving in the temple, an angel announced that he
and his wife Elizabeth would bear a son that would be the forerunner to the
Messiah. Zacharias protested asking, “How will I know for certain?”
Just like that, the old familiar seeds of doubt gave rise to
disbelief. Zacharias lost his power of speech until his son John was born.
When an angel visited Mary to tell her she would be with child, she
was perplexed and kept pondering what the angel said. Mary was stunned, but Mary
believed.
When Mary told Joseph about the pregnancy and the visit from the
angel, he initially did not believe. In his defense, not many would.
King Herod? He was one that did believe. Herod so ardently believed
in the Christ child that he ordered the Magi to report back to him when they
found the baby. Threatened by the very notion of a challenge to power, Herod
schemed to kill the baby.
The threads of belief are woven through the Christmas story as well,
but they are often preceded by a brief encounter with disbelief. The shepherds
were terrified when the multitude of angels pierced the night sky. But they
believed and headed straight away for Bethlehem.
Belief and disbelief have a long history of entanglement. Like the
father who brought his son to Jesus and asked if he could heal him. “If?” came
the indignant reply.
“I believe, help my disbelief,” the father cried.
That same cry echoes today. Help my disbelief that wonders: Will God
really provide in hard times? Help my disbelief that questions: Does God truly
care for the lonely, heal the sick and walk through the valleys? Help my
disbelief that whispers: I’m not worthy. Help my disbelief that asks: Did God
really make me with a purpose and a plan?
At the heart of Christmas is an invitation to believe – that God the
creator took on flesh and bones, humbled himself and came in human form to give
mankind a better picture of himself. That gift in the manger holds more riches
than a million Macy’s.
And yet, Macy’s has it right. Believe.
It’s deceptively easy. The hard things often are.
