Shovelling snow – Christmas 2010
I was watching a man shovel his driveway last week. Well, I should say he was trying to 
shovel his driveway last week. He had a little, shall we say “help” with him out there: a toddler, able to walk, able to hold his own, and able to hold a shovel. But the boy was not really able to help. The work needing to be done required some skill that the boy did not yet have, yet the boy was out there for a while playing in the big pile of snow his dad made, then trying to shovel a little bit, and then the boy resorted to just following the dad, back and forth along the driveway, laughing every time the dad stopped walking or shovelling to turn and go the other direction. Every time the dad turned directions, it seemed as though the boy was surprised, even though the dad had just done exactly the same thing five times earlier. Meanwhile the dad laughed along with the boy, although I am sure the dad was thinking something like, “What did you expect me to do?” The boy fell several times while they were out there. He probably tripped over his snow pants, or was not used to the boots, or didn’t account for uneven terrain. Every time the boy fell, the dad stopped what he was doing, turned and reached down to pick the boy up, dust him off, and encourage him to keep going.
This reminded me of Christmas, and the arrival of our Saviour to redeem and sustain us in our daily life. As the dad, Christ continues to do the work He needs to do, but He never leaves our side. The distance between the boy and the dad may have increased, but the dad was never more than a couple of metres from the boy. And every time we fall, Christ may not be there to pick us up physically like the dad, but He does pick us up faithfully: lifting us out of the snow and our despair, brushing us off and making us clean, and setting us on our way and reminding us there is life to live.
We too get surprised when Christ changes directions on us, maybe teaches us or does something that we didn’t expect, and yet when we look back on it, it shouldn’t have been surprising. It could have been what we would have expected, if we weren’t so wrapped up in what we were doing.
Two questions came to mind as I considered the dad and his boy. The first question is what would we look like without a Saviour? We would be bumbling around, falling all over the place. To watch the dad and the boy from the outside, it is easy to picture a boy, or a bunch of them trying to shovel the snow, falling here and there, not know which direction to go, and probably ending up with bodies strewn everywhere, lost souls rolling in the snow.
And the second is, why do I forget that I need a Saviour? It is clear to see watching the boy and the dad, that the dad is not only there to help, the dad is needed, he is required. And yet, we, as individuals and as a community of people together, lose sight of this – Christ is needed, He is required. Not just to get the job done, it is not about the work needing to be done. It is about the boy and the relationship between the boy and the dad. If the boy is to live, if the boy is to get back up off the ground, if the boy is to be able to get up to get inside the house again, he needs the dad.
Christmas is a time to be reminded that we need the Saviour. He has arrived, He is here, and He is walking with us, picking us up, dusting us off and setting us free. He is required, and as we are all children with baggy snow pants and bulky boots, trying to live our lives, we need Him. And He has come, even though we may get tricked into thinking that we don’t need Him, He arrives. He came in the night, broke in through the garage, and came in under the rouse of a child to redeem us, to pick us up, brush us off and set us free. Thanks be to God.
