The Weight of Christmas
By Dr. Dustin Ellis
I am older now. Officially middle aged a good friend reminded me lately. I have begun to lose people, to disease, old age, and bad luck. Loss adds a layer of complexity to Christmas. It seems that the day seems heavier and that it has lost some of the momentum that it once had. With the memories of the past come reflection and an experience of loss.
Memories of Christmases with loved ones are now reminders that they have gone on and left us. The Christmas season also brings the hustle and bustle, with obligatory parties, concerts, and events, along with the stress of gift shopping on a limited budget. At times, Christmas feels more imposed than invited, as if it's a compulsory celebration.
As a child I couldn’t wait for Christmas eve to arrive. Anticipation began when the Spiegel catalog would arrive. I would sort backwards and forwards through it, picking out potential Christmas presents that I wanted to ask Santa for.
We would talk about Christmas dinner with family which always included a negotiation on starting time that somehow permitted Christmas to be the only day when it is acceptable to eat lunch at 3pm. The smell of my grandmother's pies, cakes, and cornbread dressing would welcome you into the house on Christmas day better than any “Merry Christmas!” from a family member. It was pure joy.
The ripping of wrapping paper from presents was immediately followed by a fake snowball fight with crumpled paper. It was the highlight of the year and as a kid, that day seemed to be the launching pad sending the next year forward filled with laughter and smiles.
But like I said at the beginning, I’m not a kid anymore and Christmas just feels different. There are no more carefree arrivals at Grandma’s but rather conversations on the ride over about how to best survive the pace of the day. One of the hardships is that in contrast with the theme of childhood, things in adulthood are just a little bit more difficult. They take effort and intention.
I think Christmas is no different. Quickly joy and anticipation are eroded by planning, budgeting, and schedules. We try to respond well, with phrases like “keep Christ in Christmas” and “Jesus is the reason for the season,” but they seem to come up short. Maybe they have become cliché. Maybe they always have been cliché, but I’d like to think that there is still truth in those simple phrases.
Angels approached shepherds with some simple phrases about Christmas. They said “We bring good news. Today was born a savior. You have hope. Rejoice!” There is some potency in those simple phrases. One moment, there wasn’t hope, and a moment later hope was born and in a manger. One moment we didn’t have a savior, and a moment later we did.
It makes me feel better about myself when I read that the shepherds needed instructions on how to respond to the good news. The angels told them to rejoice. I think I might need to be told that too. Maybe we all do. I like that the singular instruction given to the first group of people celebrating Christmas was to rejoice.
I think we can rejoice, but only when we fully embrace the weight of Christmas, because despite the heaviness that comes from life, the significance of Christmas means rejoicing.
Hope isn’t light and fluffy and it definitely isn’t whimsical. Nothing that changes lives ever is, but it is good news, and it requires rejoicing.
What would it be like for us to fully embrace the weight of Christmas? Not its heaviness but its significance. Consider this Christmas season that, despite difficulty and hardship, we celebrate the day hope arrived in the form of our savior, Jesus.
I don’t think we can avoid Christmas stress, and we would dishonor family and friends that have gone before us if we didn’t remember them, but also the Angels didn’t say to be melancholy. I like that the singular instruction given to the first group of people celebrating Christmas was to rejoice, so I am going to tell you to do the same because the news is good, and it is significant.
I am older now. Officially middle aged a good friend reminded me lately. I have begun to lose people, to disease, old age, and bad luck. Loss adds a layer of complexity to Christmas. It seems that the day seems heavier and that it has lost some of the momentum that it once had. With the memories of the past come reflection and an experience of loss.
Memories of Christmases with loved ones are now reminders that they have gone on and left us. The Christmas season also brings the hustle and bustle, with obligatory parties, concerts, and events, along with the stress of gift shopping on a limited budget. At times, Christmas feels more imposed than invited, as if it's a compulsory celebration.
As a child I couldn’t wait for Christmas eve to arrive. Anticipation began when the Spiegel catalog would arrive. I would sort backwards and forwards through it, picking out potential Christmas presents that I wanted to ask Santa for.
We would talk about Christmas dinner with family which always included a negotiation on starting time that somehow permitted Christmas to be the only day when it is acceptable to eat lunch at 3pm. The smell of my grandmother's pies, cakes, and cornbread dressing would welcome you into the house on Christmas day better than any “Merry Christmas!” from a family member. It was pure joy.
The ripping of wrapping paper from presents was immediately followed by a fake snowball fight with crumpled paper. It was the highlight of the year and as a kid, that day seemed to be the launching pad sending the next year forward filled with laughter and smiles.
But like I said at the beginning, I’m not a kid anymore and Christmas just feels different. There are no more carefree arrivals at Grandma’s but rather conversations on the ride over about how to best survive the pace of the day. One of the hardships is that in contrast with the theme of childhood, things in adulthood are just a little bit more difficult. They take effort and intention.
I think Christmas is no different. Quickly joy and anticipation are eroded by planning, budgeting, and schedules. We try to respond well, with phrases like “keep Christ in Christmas” and “Jesus is the reason for the season,” but they seem to come up short. Maybe they have become cliché. Maybe they always have been cliché, but I’d like to think that there is still truth in those simple phrases.
Angels approached shepherds with some simple phrases about Christmas. They said “We bring good news. Today was born a savior. You have hope. Rejoice!” There is some potency in those simple phrases. One moment, there wasn’t hope, and a moment later hope was born and in a manger. One moment we didn’t have a savior, and a moment later we did.
It makes me feel better about myself when I read that the shepherds needed instructions on how to respond to the good news. The angels told them to rejoice. I think I might need to be told that too. Maybe we all do. I like that the singular instruction given to the first group of people celebrating Christmas was to rejoice.
I think we can rejoice, but only when we fully embrace the weight of Christmas, because despite the heaviness that comes from life, the significance of Christmas means rejoicing.
Hope isn’t light and fluffy and it definitely isn’t whimsical. Nothing that changes lives ever is, but it is good news, and it requires rejoicing.
What would it be like for us to fully embrace the weight of Christmas? Not its heaviness but its significance. Consider this Christmas season that, despite difficulty and hardship, we celebrate the day hope arrived in the form of our savior, Jesus.
I don’t think we can avoid Christmas stress, and we would dishonor family and friends that have gone before us if we didn’t remember them, but also the Angels didn’t say to be melancholy. I like that the singular instruction given to the first group of people celebrating Christmas was to rejoice, so I am going to tell you to do the same because the news is good, and it is significant.