What? Two posts in like three days? What manner of inconsistency is this?!
Well, I’m on break and it’s fall/winter and I’ve been listening to too much Christmas music.
Which brings us to today’s post: Oh Boy Oh Boy It’s Beginning to Look a Heck of a Lot Like Christmas.
I reread my Thanksgiving post yesterday (why? Checking for errors.), and as you might have gathered, it was almost more of a reminder or hope than calm, collected thankfulness. I was pulling myself out of a nice little hole of sadness I’d dug by fixing my mind on some of the blessings God had been so gracious to give me this year. As I looked over those first few lines, I had to laugh. Why you may ask?
Midnight on January 1 can change things. Gravy, things can change right now.
Because of politics? No. A vaccine? No. Bonus points in a class? HAHAHAHAHA yeah those don’t exist so no.
But it’s because of Christmas and Resurrection Sunday and eternity and hope.
Biblical hope. It’s because we believers have been freed from our sin and darkness and death and a this-life-only outlook on things.
Y’all it’s the Christmas season.
I’ve always loved Christmas. It becomes more and more important to me as each year goes by, as each set of twelve months is more difficult than the last, as the world spirals closer and closer to its end.
Christmas, and Christmas music in particular, reminds me that no matter how much things hurt this year, no matter what was lost or gained or stagnated, my hope has not changed. My hope-my salvation-is secure and stable.
On my list in the last post, I mentioned new Christmas music as something I was grateful for. Two of the albums I was referencing in particular were Ben Rector’s A Ben Rector Christmas and Rend Collective’s A Jolly Irish Christmas. I’d encourage you to give them a listen. Rector’s album is full of old favorites in the old style, and Rend Collective gives Irish flair and some new lyrics to more classics.
Even though I could probably write posts on every single one of these songs, I wanted to use Rend Collective’s added lyrics to God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen and We Three Kings.
In God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, the Irish band adds this ending:
Ding dong the bells are ringing
Comfort and joy we’re singing
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
He’s come, the savior has come
And hate and darkness is done
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Christmas is not a feeling,
Come on don’t stop believing
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
And maybe it’s just the plaintive music that touches me, but combined it gives me all the feelings of that Romans passage I posted previously on the whole earth groaning in anticipation. There’s this fullness of feeling the relief and gratitude of the end of sin and the hope of salvation right alongside the longing for the complete removal of sin and death from the world for all time.
Then, in We Three Kings, they add this ending:
In the dark we’re not lost
When it’s hard we’re not lost
Don’t lose heart
We’re never truly lost
The reminder, the thumping, simple reminder that no matter how insane our circumstances and our world seem to be, no matter how off track things seem to have gotten we. Are. Not. Lost. We are no longer stumbling around in the darkness, following our sinful passions and desires. The most brilliant Light has come into the world and lit up our lives, pulled us from the disgusting muck of our sin, and set us running the race with the glorious Savior at the end. This country is not our home. It shouldn’t even be one of our first allegiances. The people in our country, our state, our county, our town, and even some in our church are lost. Christmastime is one of the most obvious opportunities we have to share this light and this, this foundness, with them. They can say they like Christmas because of family and friends and yes those are good and wonderful things. But they pale in comparison to what Christmas is for Christians.
For us, it is blazing, blinding Light. In a time of year (at least in this part of the world) when it’s dark and dreary and cold and windy and wet, the celebration of Christ’s birth shines even more brilliantly. Our family always takes a moment to sit in our darkened house after setting up our tree. Maybe it’s just me, but that moment there in the darkness with the steady, soft light from a Christmas tree as old as I am, stuffed with ornaments representing everything our family is, is one of the best moments of my year. Every time. It’s a poor reflection of the light of Christ of course (it’s just a tree), but it makes me think of the Church. It brings to mind 1 Corinthians 13:21 and 2 Corinthians 3:18.
“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.”
“And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.”
There are brighter things here on earth than a Christmas tree. But I think that’s why it’s a good picture of us. We Christians are here, salvation secure, a steady soft light reflecting the glory of God to a darkened den, or, world.
As Ben Rector writes,
Some people like President’s day.
Other people like their birthday.
But me? I’m a Christmas man.
And I’ll tell you why.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year.
So gather your family and friends in person or via Zoom, and if you put up a tree, take a few moments this evening to just sit in contemplation of the incredible gift we’ve been given, the incredible God who gave it, and the incredible opportunity we have to be a light to others. As I started to say earlier, things can change. Not because of any earthly occurrence, but because of something that’s already happened. We have the most solid and sure hope, and if we will submit to God’s plan and authority, we can start having a better year right here, even in the last days of 2020. We can have a better 2021, not because of man, but because of our great and glorious God.
Merry Christmas everyone. It truly is the most wonderful time of the year.
Sarah Standard Version 