Philosophers have considered questions of who we humans are from times before Jesus was born. They have attempted to determine what our purpose is on this earth. What is it that makes us different from the animals? How do we think? How should the good human behave? The thread of thought sometimes leads to deep discussions and theories that leave us wondering what the limited lifetime of each of us should really be about. Even among lay people like myself earnest conversations often lead to the differing ways in which we choose to interact with one another, hoping that we have indeed chosen correctly. 

As with anyone, I have been influenced by different people along the long road of my journey with my parents and grandparents providing the first and often most important lessons about how to create a life well lived. They each taught me to be open to new ideas, different ways of thinking and living. They also showed me the power of love and a lifelong willingness to keep learning. 

Along the way I encountered people who made lasting impressions on the way that I think. A first grade teacher taught me how to overcome my personal challenges with determination. A fourth grade teacher did not realize that I learned how not to be cruel from watching her denigrate her students. A high school teacher introduced me to the world and initiated my embrace of thinking beyond the confines of the tiny corner of the universe where I live. A college professor showed me how to follow the red thread of society that connects us as humans. Another warned me of our human tendencies to dwell on other people’s weaknesses, a trait that has led to interpersonal conflicts throughout history. Still another taught me how to find and develop the talent that lives in every human heart. 

I have also had spiritual guidance most of which never happened inside a church. My mother-in-law was a brilliant woman sometimes frustrated by the traditional roles and estimations of women in a time before the idea of allowing them to have a voice became popular. She was a thinker who sought answers about eternal questions. She constantly read books, attended retreats and deeply contemplated our purpose on this earth. She shared her thoughts with me on Sunday afternoons while the men watched sports in another room. She warned me to beware of religious fanatics who claimed to have all the answers. She pointed out how often conflicts occur in the name of religious beliefs that run counter to the ideals of peace. 

One of her mentors had been a priest who just happened to be the person who baptized me at All Saints Catholic Church when I was an infant. He was a wise man who often took me aside and advised me how to be a genuinely loving person. He taught me that God does not dispense goodies like Santa Claus. He explained why bad things sometime happen to good people and good things happen to bad people. The God he described to me was loving and kind but also desirous that I treat my fellow humans with dignity and understanding regardless of how different our beliefs and cultures might be. He emphasized that we all make mistakes and God is forgiving, eager to allow us to express our contrition and willingness to attempt to be better. 

I suppose that the lessons that I learned from so many others have caused me to be stunned and confused when I witness the embrace of so much hatefulness in the world today. Some among us almost deify persons who think nothing of insulting and degrading others publicly. The rise of bullies masquerading as saviors is concerning to me. The claims of religious leaders who regularly condemn whole swaths of people as though they have some secret claim to godliness worries me. Somehow there is an ugliness about it all that flies in the face of the lessons I have learned from wise souls who offered a more positive and inclusive view of humanity. 

Christmas reminds me not of a tiny baby born in a manger, but of a young man who preached a gospel of love. He loved everyone he encountered without consideration of how young or old they were. He embraced the poor, the outcasts, the suffering. He blessed the children and answered their questions with honesty. He was forgiving of human imperfections. He was above all a teacher who understood what we all needed to hear and then explained those things to us with stories and simplicity. 

In this season we once again witness what happens when we close our minds and become unwilling to see the wonder in every human, not just those who are like us. Perhaps the best way that we might celebrate would be to simply love just as we were cautioned to do over two thousand years ago. It is certainly worth a try.