Hope at Christmas in the Midst of Loss
As we move towards the fourth Sunday of Advent we enter a busy week at Amberlea.
On Thursday night come to witness the “Live Nativity” in the Amberlea parking lot. Yes, there will be actors and animals, food and warm drink. Then we will make our way inside for a good old-fashioned Carol Sing! I remember the days of my youth gathering in the gymnasium of our public school to sing Christmas carols. Nothing more, we just sang. It was a joyous time, filled with excitement, anticipation and music that rang through the hallways and filled the school with cheer. Come join us on Thursday as we recreate a simpler time.
The reality is that this season is not always easy. There is personal loss, struggles, fears, depression, financial pressure, family pressure, not to mention horrific events in our communities or the world at large, and natural disasters that happen around us. All of these can cause us to pause and wonder, “What is there to celebrate?” or “How can I sing Joy to the World when the world (or my world) is going to hell in a hand basket?”
As I was reading the Christmas story again, it dawned on me that a part of the story of the birth of Jesus that we seem to omit is a message of comfort and hope for those who are heavily burdened by loss and anxiety.
In Matthew chapter two we read of visitors who came with lavish gifts (the beginnings of our modern day trappings?). These visitors, the Wise Men, come to worship the Christ Child.
The part that we tend to omit is what happened after the Wise Men left. The little town of Bethlehem would never be the same, not only for the birth of Jesus but for another, most sinister reason. Herod the Great was a ruthless king and would not allow the possibility of a newborn Jewish king to upset the balance of power. So, he did the unthinkable. He gave orders to his army to take the life of every baby boy under the age of two.
Imagine the fear of hiding your child from the approaching heavy footsteps of marching soldiers. And in its deadly aftermath, the sounds of heart wrenching cries from mothers cradling their lifeless sons, as an ancient prophecy was fulfilled.
“A voice is heard in Ramah,
weeping and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children
and refusing to be comforted
because they are no more.” (Matthew 2:18)
Joseph was alerted by a dream. He gathered up the child and Mary and they barely escaped with the few possessions they could carry as they fled to Egypt. God’s only Son, wrapped in flesh, become a refugee.
We don’t tend to include the horrific loss in Bethlehem in our Christmas services or in the children’s Christmas pageant. We choose to turn away.
But God never does.
I believe that the story of loss is included in scripture because God wants us to know that the baby in the manger means more than joyful Christmas carols and shiny gifts. God wants us to remember that Bethlehem’s darkest day was Jesus’ story too. The children who died that night were his neighbours, his friends, perhaps even his family.
We are reminded that no matter what we have lost, Emmanuel is with us.
Our God is the same yesterday, today and forever. This same God leans in to hear our cry. Jesus is the Messiah for those who mourn, the God who understands the cause of the refugee and the King of the Universe who preferred the manger to a palace. God, the infinite, all-powerful Creator humbled Himself to become vulnerable to all of the hatred and violence we could muster. He remains the God who walks alongside us in our suffering.
God with us. Emmanuel.
On December 21st, on the winter solstice we will gather at 7:30 pm for a quiet reflective service. The winter solstice is the darkest day of the year but everyday after that we will have more light. It is a moment of hope.
Join us as we experience together the hope found in the light of Jesus.
He is Emmanuel.