Merry Christmas, Macedonia!

A little break from politics this week and a focus on things more important…

In the middle of December of the year now past I was on one of my epic backpacking trips in the mountains of Southern Arizona with one of my brothers-in-law and another hiking buddy.  We were hiking up, and then down, the highest southernmost peak in the continental United States, Miller Peak, in the Huachuca Mountains, at nearly 9,500 feet/2,900 meters, enjoying the beauty of what is known as the “sky islands” of Arizona.  They are called “sky islands” because these are somewhat isolated mountain ranges that rise sharply up from our surrounding desert wilderness creating a dramatic difference in the scenery between the low deserts and high mountains.  And they provide some of the most dramatic views around.

As we made camp for the night late on a Saturday afternoon, I heard my brother-in-law call out to a nearby trail runner, individuals who literally run the mountain trails for exercise and peace.  “Steve…!” I heard him fairly shout.  I quickly got out of my tent that I was preparing for the night and came face-to-face with a friend I had not seen in nearly 40 years.

Steve and I attended the same church when we were much younger, in our teenage years and before.  In our teenage years, we had hiked and backpacked together in some of the same mountain ranges I was now hiking again, nearly four decades later.  I had lost touch with him and his family and did not know where he was living and working; my brother-in-law had not seen him for over 20 years, the two of them attending the same church back in the late ‘90s.

And so it struck me then as it happened on the mountain and as it still strikes me now as I write these words: there we were, our little trio of hikers, setting up camp on a remote mountain in southern Arizona at about 8,700 feet/2,650 meters above sea level, no other humans around until a lone trail runner comes across our campsite.  And not just a lone trail runner but a friend of mine from long-past – what are the odds of that happening?  Why did it happen?

Owing to the lateness of the day, the sinking sun, the dropping temperatures and Steve’s need to get back safely down the mountain, we chatted for the briefest of moments; I found out more about Steve’s family, and he found out about my love of Macedonia and the Macedonians.  And then he was off. 

Now, you might be asking yourself, given the title of this column, “Yes, Jason, that’s an extraordinary story, but what does it have to do with Christmas?”  And that, my dear reader, is an excellent question, best answered this way: I think we all know this to be true but it is worth repeating and remembering – all of life, as it turns out, is relational, relational in a vertical sense, between us as individuals, and God, and relational in a horizontal sense, between us as individuals, and those around us, including family, friends, neighbors, co-workers, even those we don’t like.  Life is all about relationships, good and bad.  Yes, we need to grow up, go to school, learn a vocation, work, and engage in the myriad details of living that make life good and fulfilling.  But first and foremost, life is about relationships.

When we look at the traditional Christmas story, we learn that God, in His love for us, sent His Son, Jesus the Christ, to be born both fully human and fully God, on earth.  Why?  Because God desires to have a personal relationship with each of us.  God’s Son, Jesus, grew up, became a carpenter, then spent three years preaching before He was handed over to Pontius Pilate, and then crucified.  And then, critically to the importance of having a relationship, He rose again, on Easter Sunday, to offer eternal life to those who, as the Apostle Paul told the jailer in Philippi, “believe on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ” (Acts 16:31).

As you, my Macedonian family and friends, prepare to celebrate Christmas, my prayer for you is that you remember these things: that all of life is relational, both vertically and horizontally; that the relationship we have with God and His Son, Jesus the Christ, was made possible by that first Christmas; and that, because our lives are limited, we make the most of them first and foremost by focusing on the relationships with those we know and love, working to improve them by loving on each other.  And, frankly, we should work on improving our relationships even with those we don’t like very much.  On that last point, that is something I need to be working on in this new year.

I emailed Steve a picture of the three of us right after our hike, and he responded with a blessing: “Thanks for sending the picture – was quite the surprise.  I was looking for the blessing of a bit of sun before heading back down and got much more.  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.”

Having reconnected with Steve, I hope to go hiking and backpacking with him again this year and learn more about how his life has changed these past 40 years.  And I hope to continue working to improve my own relationships with those I know and love.  I hope and pray that you do too.

Merry Christmas, Macedonia!