Christmastime always brings a variety of emotions. I love everything about the holiday season—from the egg nog to the lights to the Christmas songs that transport me back to a small house on Jody Lane. The gifts beneath my tree remind me of God’s abundant material blessings. I see the word “JOY” on my mantle, and I know that Christmas—the entrance of God into our world—is the sole source of authentic joy. But these feelings of gratitude, seasoned with nostalgia, are challenged by the sorrow all around me.
I study the ornaments on my tree and remember days gone by. Days that included family members who are no longer with us. In fact, just yesterday we shared a meal on the anniversary of my father’s death. We said nothing of his passing, but we always gather on that date, bound by our shared sense of loss. Our presence communicates what our words do not.
Later this week, we will reflect on the death of another long-time family friend, taken abruptly and unexpectedly from this world. Meanwhile, I have sat and wept with those who battle crippling depression, some who have suffered the loss of children, others who are fighting for their very lives against deadly diseases. There are gifts under our tree for kids who have never enjoyed a family Christmas, because they do not have a family. At times it feels like the darkness is winning. But that’s a matter of perspective.
When something tragic happens in December (or maybe even November), we often say things like, “That’s so sad, and right here at Christmastime,” as if the holiday will forever be marked by the tragedy. And often it is, at least in this life. Bad news at Christmas has a way of stealing the joy of the season. But the shadow of our suffering is temporary! It is actually Christmas that steals the power of tragedy so that it cannot have the final word. But what is Christmas?
It’s not the nostalgia of Johnny Mathis or Bing Crosby; it’s not the lighted houses or decorated trees that bring us hope this time of year. The joy in those things dissipates the day after Christmas. It often escalates to depression when post-holiday life returns to normal. Only Jesus, the indescribable gift of God, brings “comfort and joy” to this broken world. His is a joy that cannot be stolen by circumstances, for it is triumphant “far as the curse is found”—and that covers you and me and anything we will encounter between the “now” and the “not yet.” Joy to the world, the Lord is come…and that’s our steadfast and solitary hope.