God overdoes things. All the time. He gives. And He gives over the top. We need oxygen. So He created phytoplankton––microscopic plants that bloom in the ocean. They bloom in massive amounts, producing a staggering amount of breathable air for this planet. He paints sunsets that make the gaudiest neon of the Las Vegas strip look pale by comparison. He made kangaroos, and arctic weasels, and beluga whales, and thousand-year-old sequoias.
Our giving, whether in July or December, is imitative of His. Our generosity is dependent on Him, because every molecule we can gift is a molecule that actually belongs to Him. And God gives lavishly. Whether it is simply the glorious gift of creation, or the even more marvelous gift of redeeming grace, God goes over the top. He made man, and all things, in the seven days of creation. That is marvelous on its own.
But when man fell, it didn’t cross our minds that the way God would save us is by becoming one of us, dying our death, and conquering death in order that we might be reunited with Him. Again, scandalous, over-the-top, get-outta-here sort of generosity is God’s M.O.
So, when we feast in celebration of Christmas, it ought not to be frittered with chains of diet-riddled anxieties. We should put extra dollops of cream on that pie. We should make the sort of fudge that tastes like ten or twelve extra pounds. We should make feasts that are as rich and savory and as abundant as we are reasonably able. If you’re trying to think of reasons to object to this it is because you haven’t grasped gratitude. Dietitians actually tell us that worrying about your diet is one of the best ways to gain weight.
It is the grateful heart that gulps in lung-fulls of oxygen and doesn’t feel a twinge of guilt about how that breath might impact the Amazon jungle. It is the grateful heart that freely receives the good gifts and enjoys the richest of fare with a carefree (not careless, mind you) joy.
If you want to put rules around this enjoyment and merriment, you’ve got things upside down. You’re on the White Witch’s side, not Aslan’s. If you don’t understand what that literary allusion means, may I suggest you make a big batch of fudge, and gather up the family for story time. It’ll be more wholesome for you than kale chips.
Here’s one of our favorite holiday treats if you needed any excuse to eat something delicious: