Can we rejoice this christmas?
I paused this year when I ordered our Regional Synod Christmas cards. Traditionally, I go for a message of peace (I can’t help it, I’m wired that way). But this year so many of us have not experienced peace. In fact, we have experienced the opposite: anxiety, tumult and conflict. We’ve felt it globally (through this ongoing pandemic), locally (through the heightening of polarized politics), in our churches (through challenges like mask mandates and reopening guidelines), in our denomination (as we navigate a difficult split), and in our personal lives (mental health, problematic relationships, family concerns, financial concerns… you name it). It’s been a rough couple of years, hasn’t it? To be quite honest, I did not want to be a person who says “’Peace, peace,’ when there is no peace.”
|
So, this year when I ordered our Regional Synod Christmas cards, I chose a card that says “Rejoice.” After all, so many Biblical characters are known for rejoicing in difficult times. Mary rejoiced that she was with child. Despite the social stigma and hardship that her pregnancy was bound to create, she declared, “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour.” (Luke 1: 46, 47) After all, the angel brought a message of joy to the frightened shepherds: “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord!” (Luke 2:10-14) After all, when they had gone to see Jesus, the shepherds returned to their hometowns and their underpaid jobs, “glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told” (Luke 2:20). They went on their way rejoicing.
Perhaps this Christmas we are being reminded of our source of joy in difficult times. I do not want to be glib about this. I do not mean the kind of joy that we see depicted on Hallmark cards with grinning cherubs and sparkly skies. Many of us have experienced genuine challenge, deep loss, and feelings like sadness and anger. Don’t I know it. And Christmas can be an especially hard time when you are experiencing difficult feelings. Sometimes the best thing we can do is pause to acknowledge the difficulty, seek support, and make space to lament. Grinning cherubs do not fit into that space.
|
But there is a different kind of joy than the Hallmark kind. The joy I’m talking about is I think what Robert Browning describes in his poem, God, Thou Art Love, when he says God’s love “reached me like a solemn joy.” I think it’s the kind of joy we see in the Christmas story, which is not untinged by sorrow. I wonder whether this is one of the unheralded gifts of that story: the reminder that sorrow and joy do not need to be mutually exclusive. Perhaps this is not an either/or situation, but a both/and. Or maybe even already/not-yet.
This is because the Christmas story is precisely about light coming to darkness. A beautiful baby is born into a lowly manger and is destined to become our crucified King. And this would mean a world of difference to people like us. Isaiah foretold it long ago: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned. You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy.” (Isaiah 9:2,3) |
Isaiah foretold it long ago: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned. You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy.” (Isaiah 9:2,3)
I want to be clear that this is not necessarily about joy removing sadness (sometimes sadness is entirely appropriate), but about joy coming to sadness, like bringing a candle or a lamp into a dark room.
The light is coming, like a glimmer of dawn on the horizon. It is the coming of Emmanuel, God with us. |
I wonder: where do you find that glimmer? I find it in the laughter of children, in small thoughtful Christmas gifts, in walks through the snowy woods where God’s grandeur is on full display, in the beauty of scripture, in late night moments of quiet prayer in front of a glowing tree, in the generosity of strangers to care for the poor, in the kind smile of a grocery store clerk, in candlelight services where people who haven’t seen each other in ages gather together to sing Silent Night. The Lord is near, the Lord is near. And we see glimmers of it all around us in these dark days.
I pray that if you are experiencing darkness this Christmas, that the Lord would bring you light. Even if just a small glimmer. I pray that we would all be reminded of the reason for our joy: the Lord is near. Can we rejoice? I think so. Even in the midst of our frustration and sorrow. Yes, the light comes for people exactly like us.
I pray that if you are experiencing darkness this Christmas, that the Lord would bring you light. Even if just a small glimmer. I pray that we would all be reminded of the reason for our joy: the Lord is near. Can we rejoice? I think so. Even in the midst of our frustration and sorrow. Yes, the light comes for people exactly like us.