The Inflatable Christian

Finally, we have come at last to the season of lights and Inflatable Christmas Lawn Critters and their people and playthings. I could say that I wait for this season all year long but, truthfully, it’s a little traumatizing seeing Santa and his reindeer inflate at night, full of color and light— then run out of air by morning, lying flat and unconscious in front of houses all over Houston—only to begin the cycle all over again come evening.

Sometimes I think many of us are a bit like the inflatables. Come Sunday morning we shower, dress up, pack our Bibles and best attitudes with us as we drive off to church. We are full of the joy, light and grace of God, only too quickly to radically deflate later in the day over spilled coffee, a driver cutting us off, some unkind or thoughtless word spoken in our direction, our team not winning the game—and so on. And then we lie flat and lifeless on the floor of our souls, as the last of all that good will leaks out of us like someone’s dying breath… But come Sunday…

And how much more does this routine ensue on an extended basis during this end-of-the-year celebratory season? We sing the songs and wish each other “Merry Christmas” as if we are bringing the gospel to a person perishing in their sin. We are much better than “Happy Holidays!” We celebrate Christmas—the real Christmas, Christ in Christmas, Jesus in the manger, Mary and the angel, the shepherds on the hillside, the three kings—and let’s not forget Santa.

We don’t really talk too much about what follows soon after—Herod’s infanticide in Bethlehem—because that would cause some deflation in itself. We can’t be bothered by those people on the corners with the signs and the ragged clothes asking for food, who haven’t showered any time recently. They should all just get a job anyway. We jealously guard our time-honored traditions and our filters through which we view Christ’s incarnation. We cherish our Christmas plays and spectaculars, our feasts and gatherings—and so much good will. And almost all of it will evaporate into thin air, even as the inflatables are unplugged, folded up and packed away for another year, sometime in the first couple weeks of January.

While we can enjoy these momentary accessories of the holiday, and appreciate what the world promotes to us during this time, often as a gentler, kinder, more generous spirit during these days of celebration, those of us who worship “Christ as the newborn King” are called to live a life that points to something more lasting—a Kingdom that will never pass away. And we are invited to live that reality, even before we taste it, as we walk the planet on our good days and bad days.

Lord, teach us to stay connected to Your life, which never deflates, withers or fades. Help us shine on the good days and even on the difficult days—that Your truth is in our mouths and our hearts. You are the very air that fills us up and gives us life. May Your heart infuse our frail fickle hearts with Your holy passion for the lost and broken. And may it be said of us that we are those who truly follow Christ, every day, sunrise to sunset.

-Sally Klein O'Connor

11/27/23