Christmas, Thy Name Is Compassion

As I headed up Jamboree Road today for work, I saw a scruffy-looking man bundled in a dirty, oversized, hooded jacket with what looked to be everything he owns on his back.

The sky was overcast, and with the chill in the air, my heater roared. My thoughts turned to the hundreds of homeless and less fortunate people in this county who probably will not have a warm, cozy Christmas.

Then I thought of how Christmas, more than any other time of the year, brings out compassion in us.

For many people Christmas compassion is cathartic. After all, when spending hundreds to thousands of dollars on gifts and decorations, filling a food box helps justify our overindulgence.

During the rest of the year it seems easier to ignore the homeless man on the street corner or the day worker in the parking lot looking for a job. It’s safer to avoid the park where the barrio kids play, and it’s more important to spend time with my family and friends than with an at-risk youth who needs guidance.

For those of us who work in the nonprofit social services organizations, we see this compassion manifested a hundredfold during this time of year.

Corporations host food drives, people buy presents for needy children, volunteers prepare bags and baskets for distribution, and underprivileged children attend parties and shopping sprees. All in the name of Christmas.

But why is this compassion more prevalent at Christmas? Is it just cathartic? I don’t think so. This Christmas compassion is the outward expression of what the season is truly about--the compassion of Christ.

At no time during the year are we more aware of Christ than at Christmas. Even people who don’t celebrate the actual birth of Christ extend a caring, uplifting hand during this time of year to help restore people to a sense of dignity.

There’s a spiritual awareness at Christmas. Somehow when we hear “Joy to the World” or sing “Silent Night,” our souls are touched that more than 2,000 years ago God had compassion on this world and sent his son as a gift. God in his compassion wanted to care for us, uplift us, restore us.

Probably no better story conveys the meaning of Christmas and the compassion of Christ than this:

Shortly after a young couples’ wedding, doctors discovered a small tumor on the bride’s face. Surgery left her with nerve damage that caused her mouth to droop on one side.

She became despondent when she learned the damage was permanent. Speaking gently, the husband wiped the tears from her eyes and bent down to kiss her. As he drew close, he twisted his own face to conform to her misshapen lips.

In the same way that this young husband had compassion for his wife, Christ has compassion on us. He longs to meet us where we are, whether at Christmas or throughout the year.

And in this same way we can have compassion on those around us who are downtrodden, helpless and hopeless. We can meet them where they are, both at Christmas and throughout the year. Then we can celebrate the joyous strains of the angels who sang out, “Peace on earth, goodwill to all men,” every day of our lives.

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On Faith is a forum for Orange County clergy and others to offer their views on religious topics of general interest. Submissions, which will be published at the discretion of The Times and are subject to editing, should be delivered to Orange County religion page editor William Lobdell.