New Year
The last morsel of Christmas cake is snaffled, the final stray cracker has been pulled, and the never-ending bowl of nuts rattles with an unwanted, wizened walnut. Christmas is over, the festivities have finished and the yawning abyss of January stretches out in front of us.
Dramatic, maybe, but for many of us the January blues are a reality.
They skulk in the shadows, waiting for the merriment and twinkle of December to fade and then creep in, leaving us feeling deflated and hopeless as we look to the wintry weeks ahead. Measures can be taken…holidays are booked (Covid allowing), resolutions made and new regimes adopted. We make plans for the year ahead, and maybe even more so this year as we long for the pandemic to pale and for 2021 to bring all that 2020 failed to deliver.
Cycling from one year to the next, Christmas can seem to be simply a seasonal marker. One that comes a little early in our house, as my husband pumps out the carols from the start of November. But what if there’s more to the lights, the presents and the familiar tunes than it being winter’s high point?
Growing up, we would always attend the local church’s carol service. Singing carols, listening to some readings, tuning into the minister’s talk and maybe doing it again at Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve.
But then the church bit was done.
Bring on the presents and the food. Christmas meant very little to me apart the family gathering, gifts strewn around the house and a slight over-eating discomfort that comes with the obligatory feasting. Going to church seemed to be the ticket that gained you entry into this day of celebration. Other than being ticked off the Christmas traditions list, Jesus meant very little to me.
The Christmas ticket - ‘churched up’ before the presents areopened, and food is eaten. Christian because I went to church at Christmas. And didn’t think about it again until the tree went up next time, and festive tunes flowed. But the ticket expires as the decorations get packed away. It’s irrelevant to life outside of December, and any cheer that it brings is snuffed out as January comes around the corner.
But what if Jesus is bigger and better than Christmas? What if he is longer lasting than being an annual ticket into celebratory feasting? What if he offers more hope than December anticipation and fuzzy feelings?
I was an adult when I encountered the historical, ‘definitely walked this earth’ Jesus found in the eyewitness accounts in the bible. Christmas went from being a tradition-surrounded optional idea to the fundamental moment when mighty God became small and entered into our world. He didn’t just come to pay a visit, and provide us with a December occasion, but to bring light. Light that shows us up in the dark, making us aware of our own shadowy tendencies. Light that was for everyone - not just to expose, but to welcome and give light-filled, everlasting life.
This light, held out by God himself in Jesus, banishes the darkness. Our own heavy shadows of regret and wrongdoing are taken away as we turn to the light, as if standing in a dark room and running towards the open door. Christmas, with that manger in a stable, comes with Easter, with that cross on a hill. Jesus’ death and resurrection, recorded in the history books, brings light and life and hope for those who welcome him, and his light-filled gift of life.
Hope anchored in these unchangeable realities, the birth, death and resurrection of Jesus, cannot be snuffed out or packed away. Christmas is but the spark at the beginning of an everlasting light that shines brightly throughout the ages, and on into eternity.
This light, and the hope it holds out, is bigger than December, January and even 2020. And it’s on offer to all who welcome the light-bringer himself, Jesus Christ.
Welcoming the light means turning away from the darkness. Rejecting the shadows that hide those thoughts, those words and those actions that make us ashamed. As we run towards the light, Jesus deals with the darkness. He takes it on himself, and pays the price for our shameful shadows. We run towards him, and ask to be forgiven through his light-bringing death. As he takes our darkness on, he gives us the light. He welcomes us into the light, everlasting life with him. Life that starts now as we become a part of the family of God, and continues on beyond death for eternity.
And we thank him and praise him and live a light-filled life in worship of him. Jesus Christ, the light-bringer.