Norman Rockwell Christmases and Real Life
Like many others, Norman Rockwell is one of my favorite artists. Although he did address social justice issues in his later years, most of his work portrayed the innocence and idealism of American (and Canadian) middle-class life. Rockwell’s illustrations conjure up nostalgic memories of happy and peaceful holidays—especially Christmas.

While Rockwell’s Saturday Evening Post covers may generally reflect societal impressions of Christmas, many people dread the season. Some because it reminds them of lost loved ones, some because of painful family memories of disharmony, alcoholism, or broken promises. Yet, for the homeless, it reinforces different reminders.

Garry* frequents Siloam Mission for almost all of our services: meals, shelter, education, and health care. He is jovial, outgoing (bordering on overbearing), and a self-confessed know-it-all. He likes to talk, sing, and tell the corniest jokes—all loudly. In spite of his poverty and addictions, Garry always appears to be on top of the world even when he’s beaten up and intoxicated. Though he occasionally shows signs of wanting a better life, it’s easy to assume he doesn’t take anything seriously.

Once Garry and I were talking in my office (actually he was doing most of the talking, and I was doing most of the listening). The mood and topics were typically upbeat; then, to my surprise and almost in mid-sentence, he suddenly burst into uncontrollable sobbing. It seemed as though hours passed (although it was only minutes) before he could regain his composure enough to tell me that Christmas always reminds him of the mess he has made of his life and the hurt he has caused his family. (Garry’s addictions and homelessness have estranged him from his parents and caused separation from his wife and daughters.)

Considering Christmas as a season of hurtful and regretful memories, compounded by the hardships of poverty and homelessness, how should the church respond? What does a compassionate approach to Christmas look like?

Not Everyone Can Sing “Joy to the World”

Perhaps a compassionate approach begins with the awareness that the world is bigger than our family purchases and get-togethers. And it is bigger than the banquets, parties, and Christmas concerts that our churches and businesses work so hard to put together. Beyond our circles and walls are people who are in pain and poverty accentuated by the festivities. Their hurt should be our hurt as well.

Previous to leading Siloam Mission, I pastored a mid-sized congregation in Swift Current, Saskatchewan. With a population of 16,000, the city is relatively small but fairly prosperous. Yet every Christmas, people often found themselves alone, so my family and I looked for “Christmas strays”—people who would otherwise be alone on Christmas Day. Every year the numbers who joined us for Christmas dinner grew, and we moved from our house to the church. Eventually it dawned on us that there were more people than we personally knew who were probably finding themselves without friends or family, so we went public, using the media to invite the entire city to join us at the church on Christmas Day if they had no one with whom to spend the day. It was perhaps the most rewarding thing I ever did as a pastor: creating a family for those who only had painful memories and realities to look forward to at Christmas.

It’s Hard When You Get Coal in Your Stocking

Divorce and fragmented families feel the pain of Christmas as much as anyone. Imagine being the parents who do not have custody of the children. They feel the guilt and pain of being alone and knowing that if they have their children over the holidays, it is only temporary. At least, you will give gifts and do your best to have the happiest and most loving time possible.

Now, imagine that you’re homeless and your children are in a foster home. At best, you will only see them for a few hours and, because of your poverty and addictions, won’t have anything to give them to make Christmas as normal and pain-free as possible. You feel like a failure, and the guilt is unbearable. As if you got coal, instead of a gift, in your stocking.

One program Siloam Mission developed is a Christmas toy drive—with a twist. We do this for the benefit of parents who live on the streets and whose children now live in foster homes. The parents browse through hundreds of new gifts, picking what would best suit their children, then personally wrap their selections. This provides them with some dignity as they have opportunity to visit their children.

December 26th Is More Than “Boxing Day”

Compassionate Ministry Centers like Siloam Mission are inundated with Christmas Day volunteer inquiries. In our case, the Christmas dinner volunteer roster is filled by October 1. However, that does not stop the calls from coming in, especially the week and day of Christmas. Our standard answer is that we will be open to serve the poor on Boxing Day and January 25th and June 25th… and on and on. Sadly, many people’s and church’s compassion for the homeless only centers on one day—but poverty and homelessness is a year-round reality.

When churches and individuals compassionately engage with the needy all year long, it will legitimize their concern and efforts at Christmas and improve the overall quality of life of the less fortunate.

God And Christmas Are For The Outcasts

The good news of Christ’s birth in a stable manger first came to marginalized people: non-Jewish stargazers and untrustworthy shepherds were recipients of the glorious announcement of Christ’s birth. If God sought and invited them to be participants in His son’s birth, it is important for us also to include our society’s outcasts to continue celebrating that Jesus has come for the salvation of all humankind.

by John Mohan
Chief Executive Officer of Siloam Mission