The soothing sound of a crackling fire in the fireplace, the aroma of piping hot wassail, the feel of a warm embrace from an old friend, the sight of children tinkering with shiny new wonders beneath a glowing tree . . . ah, Christmas.
But then, all of a sudden, a fight breaks out between those beautiful little children refusing to share their shiny new wonders . . . a relative mutters under his breath a jabbing comment about another relative's parenting skills . . . someone realizes there is a casserole burning in the oven.
Ah, Christmas.
In spite of the caricatured joy and yuletide cheer of this season, Christmas can be a dark, painful experience. For many, this will be the first Christmas without a lost loved one. For others, December 25 represents a nerve-wracking collision of volatile family dynamics. Oddly enough, no other day of the year more clearly highlights financial hardship than Christmas.
Unpleasant Surprises
Darkness and pain were central features in the Gospel accounts of Jesus' arrival. The surprises of the first Christmas were often unpleasant. Surprise, Joseph---your bride is scandalously pregnant. Surprise, Mary---your honeymoon will be spent in a barn. Think of making that uncomfortable journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem at full term in pregnancy and under the dictate of a distant dictator. Merry Christmas, newlyweds. Matthew's account is even darker. The first Christmas eventuates in a horrific spate of state-sponsored child murders. With the birth of Jesus, Mary and Joseph were forced into a refugee life. The sounds of that first Christmas event as we know it from Scripture included birth cries and the awful whimpers of mothers weeping over their missing kids.
Poverty and injustice marked the first Christmas. We should not be surprised if the chestnuts roasting on our open fires get singed, if dreamy scenarios fall short of expectation around that glowing tree, and if our silent night is actually quite noisy with angry shouts or mournful sobs.
He Had to Come
The darkness of Christmas, whether the first one or the one this 2011, serves as a reminder of why Jesus had to come . . . and why he will come again. The oppression of kings like Augustus and Herod demonstrate the need for a better King. And when the celebrated merriness of Christmas is interrupted by my children fighting over who gets to open the door with baby Jesus in the Advent calendar, they remind me why baby Jesus had to come. Family conflict over the Christmas feast reminds us that a new feast awaits at the second Advent of our Lord.
The darkness of this season is an occasion for worshipful gratitude and a catalyst for the eager expectation that Emmanuel will soon be with us face to face again . . . in light stronger than the brightest stars can muster.
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