c. 1996 Religion News Service

(Tom Ehrich is an Episcopal priest in Winston-Salem, N.C, an author and a former Wall Street Journal reporter. E-mail him at journey(at)interpath.com.)

UNDATED _ I can tell Christmas is near:

_ The obituary section in my local newspaper is longer.

_ Reporters are tracking retail sales.

_ Fund-raising appeals fill my mailbox.

_ Children are getting more attention.

And why not? Christmas is about life. Christmas speaks to our yearnings for”winter wonderlands”where people walk hand in hand on days that are”merry and bright,”while angels”bending near the earth”bring us”heavenly peace.” Why do people die in unusual numbers this time of year? Cold weather is one explanation. Others are the completion implicit in a year ending, the sadness that many people feel in a season of forced jollity, the grieving that comes into focus as family festivals reside only in memory. At this poignant season, it seems some people give themselves permission to let go. Others sink into despair when nothing in their lives seems as glistening or perfect as the ads. This is suicide season.

Maybe the frenzy we feel during December isn’t centered in gift lists, but in these very aches of life. In a way, it’s fitting. After all, the church chose late December for its Feast of the Incarnation partly because this dread-filled time of year needed an infusion of hope.

In a season of”glad tidings and great joy,”why do so many worry about jobs? God has left us free to make our way in the world, and for more people than we might think, this is the season when one’s way is made or not made.

One pastor writing to his flock said with gentle wisdom,”I know that 80 percent of your economic activity is happening right now, and it’s okay. Go for it.” A nation whose economy rises and falls on retail sales cannot help but be apprehensive and preoccupied as December proceeds. This season will determine who stays in business. This is also a time of reckoning for those who work on commission and bonuses pegged to year-end results. Many a person will enter the Christmas Eve service burdened with worry, for the year won’t be ending well. They will look inside the bustle and greenery for a word of hope.

What do we make of fund-raising appeals, and their formulaic recipe of guilt, flattery and financial advice? It’s the IRS, of course. Appeals by charities accelerate as the tax year ends and people need to maximize their charitable deductions.

Such calculations might seem an ironic accompaniment to stables and shepherds, but the heart of this year-end calculation is the reality of choices. In this abundant land, some have more than they can responsibly use, and some have too little.

Appeals from homeless shelters, feeding ministries and youth centers remind us of our national shame: While a seven-foot man bouncing an orange ball earns $80 million, impoverished families sleep in cars. While creative minds sweat blood over toys that talk and film heroes who commit colorful mayhem, some children are having babies, and some children are being subjected to incest and beatings. On a global scale, one-third of humanity is starving to death.

As annoying as those appeals are, they hold before us the hard truth that Moses laid before his people:”life and death, blessings and curses”_ we must choose. Doing the wave for a greedy giant while children die must be seen for what it is.

I am glad that children take center stage at Christmas. Reading Clement Moore’s classic”The Night Before Christmas”to my five-year-old son is a touch of heaven. The closest I will ever get to knowing the love that God holds for me is the way I feel caring for my sons.

Children, of course, are grease for the economic wheel. How many of us would brave the malls if we didn’t have children’s gifts to buy? But the attention we pay to children at this time of year is more than gift-buying. We remember being cared for at Christmas years ago and pledge the same to our children. We draw strength from a child’s wonder. We listen to reedy voices pipe beloved carols and touch our own need to sing.

Christmas, it seems, has a way of reminding us what matters. And that, when you think about it, was God’s purpose all along.

MJP END EHRICH