Advent 2024 : 16

 

There is a story in the library we know as the Bible about the prophet Elijah. He has managed to make an enemy of the queen, who has called for his assassination.

In fact, Elijah will evade death, not only death by politically motivated murder but death itself, instead being carried up to heaven in a low-swinging chariot pulled by flying horses. Or at least so the story goes. And in the space he left behind a rumour sprung up that one day he would return. Centuries later, Jesus will call John the Baptizer ‘Elijah, who comes [back]’ and like Elijah, John will make an enemy of a queen and, unlike Elijah, be executed and have his head presented at a banquet on a platter. I don’t know what your Christmas table decorations are like, but you’d have to go a long way to top that.

Anyway, Elijah. Elijah flees into the wilderness, until exhaustion – as when adrenalin spikes and crashes – catches up with him, and he sleeps. But after a while, an angel, a messenger sent by God, wakes him, having prepared him food to eat. Once Elijah has eaten, he is encouraged to sleep once more, and then woken again to eat another meal. For he must continue on his journey into the wilderness, to meet with God, and he will need the gifts of sleep and of food to sustain him.

Chances are high that the government does not have a price on your head. But chances are also high that you may be in danger of losing your head, at least metaphorically, and if not now at some point. And for many, the additional expectations around Christmas – including special, celebratory, meals to plan, prepare, and eat – can prove burdensome. Wearying.

You were not made for this. Food is given to nourish and sustain us, not only within our bodies but in the connections between our bodies, the social space which holds at least some of our memory. And when you can eat in a celebratory fashion, do. Whether that is on the 25 of December, or some random Thursday in July. But when it is too much, be gentle with yourself. Be kind, and gracious, generous, hospitable to the weary guest who is yourself besides yourself with overwhelm. Make room for one another, including, if you can, those who need a little more than beans on toast. Within family dynamics, this can require a lot of give and take. May God give you the grace to give what you can and take what you need.