Winter only began yesterday, but the longest night of the year makes it feel like the bleak midwinter. At least it does to me. Christmas has been a struggle for me for years. The demanded happiness of the season doesn't resonate in me. In past churches I've attended, the expected attendance of all Advent activities made sanctuary for hurting people go missing. Somewhere the humble entrance of the Christ child was lost.
The monetary demands made keeping the budget impossible. Years ago I finally got the nerve to tell my extended family I could not afford the gift exchanges. I felt I was spoiling things. The required presence at work parties and their gift exchanges felt coerced. The lengthening of the season for merchants to make more money, while people spend themselves into deepening debt, makes me feel out of sync with the world around me. Even traditional Christmas music playing everywhere reminds me I am not in the holiday spirit.
Some years back, my mother passed away a week before Christmas. It deepened the bleakness. I still feel some emotional confusion remembering how I whispered to her it was okay to let go. She thanked me and passed away the following day after I stepped away from her bedside. Maybe she would have held on longer. She was in pain, though. But it haunts me to this day and every Christmas reminds me of it.
My church has an annual Longest Night Blue Christmas service every December 21st, and I always attend. Last night I felt the presence of God. The candlelight and times of silence, the carefully chosen quiet music granting permission to be who I am. There were no expectations, no exhorting sermon. Just quiet contemplation and a growing sense of acceptance. I can greet the Christ child just as I am with all the emotions I do or do not feel. The Light has come into the world and the darkness cannot overcome it.
I don't know if I'll ever have the holly jolly merry Christmas so many people have. But I can kneel before the manager and worship in wonder that I am welcome, no strings attached.
