This is the second December in a row, Anisha and I have been unpacking our home items from our moving boxes. Settling in takes time. In the midst of opening and breaking down boxes, there are always random items we find that make us ask ourselves, multiple times, why and how they made it into one of the boxes. There are, however, moments where we find rarities like a framed picture which we thought we had lost, or a random football card we felt held a long-term value.
Our cardboard boxes have held up fairly well, especially for my collection of books. We all know how much we ought to care for our literature, for in them reside friends with much wisdom. And no matter how well we categorize our boxes with alphabetical or numerical order, we seem to always misplace our items. Stuff adds up. Unboxing, in my humble opinion, is much more challenging than packing and imagining where items would later be placed. Do not worry, this reflection is not about our moving troubles.
It is about our priorities and how we approach them when we truly care for them.
All of us have priorities in life, whether they are well articulated or summarized in a meme. I often pack my most valuable items first and last. First, because they are the most immediate and visible items that come to mind. Last, because they are the most immediate items I will carry with me when I move. Immediacy and closeness are comforting to me, it seems. For example, while moving to Maryland just a few months ago, I placed my collection of Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time in the passenger seat along with one of my cats. All this for the simple fact that I did not want to mix it up with the bundle of books in the larger truck. But Proust is not always immediate to me. I currently have works of Christos Yannaras, an Eastern Orthodox theologian, next to my bedside. So, seasons change our titles too.
All this to say, priorities are interchangeable. Priorities have seasons. They are stored, boxed, unwrapped, moved. But because they are interchangeable it does not mean they are undervalued; they are simply interchanged for moments that are proper and akin to their situation that is applicable. Priorities should be rearranged often to see how they endure their true natured ethos and possible reinterpretation.
But this is not an ethics class.
It is about our priorities and how we approach them.
God prioritized us as his own. Rearranging? May be not. We were not boxed nor considered items to place on God’s shelf for his proper moment of keen attention. God, incomparably to other deities, has always been close and immediate to his people (Deut. 4.7). God was not moving elsewhere in the universe finding a home for himself with us. God became one of us, placing Godself into our very condition. God’s space invited us into the life of the Trinity and we were not a threat to God’s imminence.
God has rearranged our priorities.
As we reflect on our priorities this Christmas Eve, let us consider those around us who are in need of our immanence, closeness. Yes, literature should be preserved, of course. Yes, moving has its ups and downs. Yes, we have values that are ‘eternal’ – so on and so on. But what is it to have priorities and not have people near us that properly situate our very existence? What is it to have preserved histories and even anthologies about ourselves without ever considering that to be deeply prioritized, is to be close and present to someone who needs to hear from us?
What we have witnessed and heard by faith is that people are never interchangeable. Yes, moods, characters, personalities, cultural practices have a mutability to them. But people, human beings, are not interchangeable. The incarnation teaches us this. God became a human being – and the future life of the Trinity will not proceed without this human flesh. It is an incomprehensible and mysterious reality, and yet, it is what our faith presses us to prioritize.
This is why we love our neighbor. Because Christ first loved us, as human beings.
We were God’s priority. Not boxes. Not books. His own and no one else’s.
Merry Christmas Eve!