Many of your homes have been decked and bedazzled for Christmas since late October, which isn’t all that surprising since you began your Christmas shopping in June. From my observations on social media, there are two Christmas-related issues over which people express passionate opinions. The first is white vs. color lights. The second is when it’s appropriate to start listening to Christmas music. In an effort to seduce us into a spending frenzy, retailers have had Christmas Muzak on full rotation in every store since they clearanced out the summer items. Like it or not, this is the annual rhythm. Unfortunately, the majority of Christmas music we hear is recycled year after year, so in many cases, we know those corny holiday songs better than old hymns. It’s annoying because Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree doesn’t even make sense.

For better or worse, Christmas songs are part of the fabric of who we are.

This Christmas season feels strange in the life of our church. There are many in our congregation who are suffering, and rather than alleviating burdens, holidays tend to magnify the suffering. This came to my attention recently at the mall when, from somewhere overhead, Andy Williams was declaring it to be the most wonderful time of the year at the same time I was receiving a text from a friend relaying the most recent news about the fire in which she is walking. Instead of lessening the pain of the information in the text, the jolly music made it feel more acute. The lyrics were meant to produce nostalgic cheerfulness. Instead, it just felt ironically bitter.

I’m not an Eeyore. I love all the things that make this time of year special. Like yours, our calendar is already jammed with Christmas celebrations and activities. I get giddy about garland on the mantle, lights on the tree, and obnoxiously large bows on packages; but those sweet, good things can’t bear up under the weight of the pain of the human experience, though. They aren’t enough to buoy the brokenhearted. We need something more than Santa Claus.

There’s another Christmas song that isn’t often shuffling through the playlist at the mall because, unlike the cheerful seasonal songs that have a positive effect on profit, it’s a lament. However, I think it best encapsulates the cry of the human heart.

O come, O come, Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer

Our spirits by Thine advent here

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night

And death's dark shadows put to flight.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

From the moment God explained to Adam and Eve that their suffering would not always be so, from the first whisper of a promised deliverer, Israel watched and waited for millennia.

Desperate.

Expectant.

Hopeful.

I used to have to imagine what it was like for the Israelites waiting on Messiah to come like he promised he would.

Not this year, though.

Death is a dark shadow, and many among us mourn. Like the Israelites waiting for the first advent of Messiah, the sorrow we carry makes our hearts desperate for His second.

And yet, Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us.

Not WAS.

IS.

His Spirit that dwells with us whispers the reminder that He who came to be with us will return to take us to be with Him. Sorrow will be a distant memory. Pain will be erased in His presence.

Advent reminds us that our hope rests on He Who comes.

So, we begin this advent season with eyes to the sky.

Desperate.

Expectant.

Hopeful.

Read: Matthew 1:18-25

Pray: God, what you promise, you deliver. Many things around us seem hard, and heavy, and broken. We need you to come! As we wait, give us strength to bear up under the trials knowing that even now we are not alone. You are with us by Your Spirit, and even now You come.