Originally written in 2006 for a “Blue Christmas” service at Tellico Village Community Church

Tonight the earth will come to its winter solstice, and we in the northern hemisphere will experience the shortest day of the year. There will be only about 9 and a half hours of daylight on December 21st.

And that means the night is 14 and a half hours long. At the Arctic Circle, the night is 24-hours long. That’s a very long night.

The longest night of the year.

My friend Ken Paul once told me after his beautiful wife Dot passed away that the nights were the hardest – and the longest. I think all of us who have suffered the loss of loved ones, or who suffer with depression, or who wrestle with a serious illness know that to be true. The nights seem very long.

And especially now, as the holidays come.

The other day, listening to Christmas music on the XM radio, I heard the song, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year!”

And it is…for some. But not for everyone. Not when there is an empty chair at the table. Not when your body is ravaged with illness. Not when the depression is too much to bear. Not without her or his voice joining yours singing the Christmas carols. Not when you feel all alone even in a crowd.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year? No, not for everyone. 

For our family, it is the first Christmas without my mother who passed away last Spring. I find it heart-wrenching to think how closely my own experience of Christmas was tied to her life. Every year on Christmas Eve, we would gather at her house for the traditional Swedish Smorgasbord. My mother’s maiden name was “Johnson” and she took great pride in her Swedish ancestry. So all the Swedish decorations would come out, and the delicious Swedish food – potato sausages and pickled herring and other delights. And I well remember the year my sister-in-law made Glug (glögg) which is the Swedish version of moonshine, except better tasting. My mother had a few and got giggily. Since I had to preach later that night, I decided I could have one cup of Glug. Three cups later, I was slurring my words and am to this day unsure of exactly what I said at that Christmas Eve service.

My mother loved getting books for Christmas – religious books about the end of the world that she knew was coming any day, and books about the scandals of famous families, and even books about the Boston mafia. Go figure. My mother had an eclectic taste in books.

I feel sad now when I think that Christmas with my mother is gone now, never to return. Some of the luster has been taken out of the holiday because she is not here to share it with us, nor we with her.

Are you missing some people, too? Is there a part of your Christmas that is gone?

It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Well, for some, but not for all. And I’ll tell you a secret – in truth, it has never been the most wonderful time of year. Certainly not in the days surrounding the first Christmas long ago. The story of the birth of Jesus, you know, is not told with a jolly ho-ho-ho and a “merry Christmas to all!”

It is the story of a teenage girl, pregnant with a child that is not her husband’s. It is the story of a child born in a dirty animal stall. It is the story of a family of refugees who had to flee their homeland so their child would not be killed. It is the story of one sent into the world in peace who was condemned to death. It is the story of a light sent to shine in the darkness, which the world snuffed out. It is the story of God’s never-ending, self-giving mercy, which was rejected and condemned.

In his great work the Messiah, Handel quotes the prophet Isaiah, proclaiming that Jesus was “despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.” One great theologian reminds us that we cannot come to the manger without acknowledging that it lays in the shadow of the cross.

It is NOT the most wonderful time of the year.

AND YET…IT IS!!

It is IF we forget about the tinsel and the trees; IF we forget about the holly jolly things; If we forget about the presents and the ornaments and the trappings.

And in FORGETTING those things, REMEMBER. Remember the story: how Mary was alone and frightened, just like some of us – but God was with her and exalted her among women; remember how Joseph was paralyzed with indecision, just like some of us – but God helped him make choices that guided him to the future; remember how the world was in darkness – but God sent the light to shine; remember how the lowly were imprisoned, and the blind wandered aimlessly, and the lame were rejected – but Jesus set them free, and gave them eyes to see, and made them leap and dance again.

Remember the story! Remember how so many grieved their losses, and felt alone – but God wipes away our tears and comes among us in Jesus Christ, Emmanuel.

It IS the most wonderful time of year, not because you have to be cheery and happy and merry, BUT BECAUSE YOU DON’T! You and I can have heavy spirits and shattered dreams, broken hearts and wounds too deep for words. And still God comes to us: to comfort, redeem, save, restore, empower, strengthen.

And most especially, God comes to us in Jesus – to be raised for us, and to hold us in the communion of those we’ve loved and lost, and to store our tears in his bottle, and to offer us eternal life.

It IS the most wonderful time of year, even though it is the season of the longest night of the year. For into this night comes God’s promise to each of us – Christ is born, Love has come, God is with us!

And that promise means that the days ahead WILL begin to lengthen, and even the longest nights of our lives will be filled with angels, and promises, and hope.

God is among us! Love has come! Christ is born!

This message is inspired by a wonderful sermon by Rev. Diane Hendricks of Little Falls Presbyterian Church, in Arlington, Virginia.