Dan Hazen: Finding ‘magic’ of Christmas requires knowing Hope

Published 1:30 am Saturday, December 25, 2021

By Dan Hazen / Herald Forum

It was 1969 and it was going to be the last magical Christmas for a long time.

The following year would find me in kindergarten (a very unpleasant introduction to public school), Santa’s existential status would shift significantly, I would learn what “binge drinking” meant from watching my grandfather, what death meanst (from my grandmother’s) and a whole series of variously disturbing and/or intriguing new words and concepts (from my older brothers).

But Christmas 1969 was a standout in no small part because of the G.I. Joe Space Capsule. I cannot over emphasize the absolute, over-the-top coolness of this toy. Not only was this a miracle of mid-century plastic manufacturing, which would fuel hours and hours of imaginative play, but it would cause my friends to swoon with envy. The near-perfect gift.

Christmases 1970 through about 1993 were a mixed bag. They began with slightly less-cool toys, then more “big kid” gifts, eventually, clothing and cash. Relatives (some welcome, some not-so much) visited, even a couple of years with snow. There were Christmases with a girlfriend, but most were “Single Christmases.” There were a few very dark, lonely, drug-addled Christmases, and some really beautiful ones after getting clean, marrying Brenda and the arrival of our first child … but “magical”? Not so much.

I began wondering about the elixir that makes a Christmas “magical.” What is it? I had serious doubts that it was actually a Hasbro product. Correlation is not causation, after all. Was it relationships perhaps? No, those came and went without much impact in the “magic” department. It certainly wasn’t the weather or how much money I had. So, what was it about 1969 and the G.I. Joe Space Capsule?

Well, it was around 1993 that I began to understand the concept of hope in a new way. To be specific, hope incarnated (literally: “hope-into-flesh”).

For 23 years, when hope showed itself in my life at all, it was a disembodied hope. It had no “flesh.” It was not incarnate. Hope was just an idea, a personal construct. In 21st century terminology it only existed as “my truth.” But back in 1969, that piece of Hasbro plastic was very real and it wasn’t something I made. It came from elsewhere. It was objective. I could touch it and hold it and feel the weight of it and know that one day I could be an astronaut.

It was a promise. It was the first step in my training. I could be the next Buzz Aldrin and the fact that I held this toy in my hands was the proof of it. Hope was incarnated.

But if hope is only an idea it cannot survive very long in a world of fully incarnated violence and contempt. We need more than an idea. This is the center of the Christmas narrative. Hope came in the flesh; very real, yet from outside this closed system where hope is limited with not enough to go around.

The “magic” returned to Christmas when I began to understand the nature of Hope. Hope incarnated. Hope is a person.

Dan Hazen is community pastor at Allen Creek Community Church in Marysville.