Bearing the Burden: A Blue Christmas Sermon

​The theme for the third week of Advent, including today, is joy. But we are gathering on this, very nearly the darkest day of the entire year, for a Blue Christmas service, which might seem more like the opposite of joy.
 
But I believe joy is exactly the right theme for a Blue Christmas service. It will just take a few minutes to get there.
 
So, yesterday I had tea with a close friend, as I do most weeks. Among other things, my friend and I talked about Christmas. Both of us find this season challenging, just in different ways.
 
For me, the greatest burden is shopping for Christmas presents. Thankfully, Carrie handles virtually all of our shopping. But it seems poor for me to ask Carrie to buy presents for herself that are supposedly from me. Some years Carrie does that anyway, on the assumption that it’s the only way she’ll ever get a really good present. But most years, with great bitterness of heart, I join the slack throngs on Christmas Eve, the people like me who are desperately looking for last-minute gifts. Probably that is going to happen again this year. The only good thing is that my sons may join me on that last, grim day.
 
My friend’s problem is different. He is a great gift-giver. More irritating still, he already has all his shopping done. For my friend, the burden of this season is receiving newsy Christmas cards. What he doesn’t like are cards that read like a list of accomplishments for the year, along with a description of fabulous trips the person took. As it happens, that’s exactly what Carrie and I normally send out, so I made a point to take my friend off our list!
 
But I understand my friend’s concern. For most of my old friends and some of the more distant members of my family, Christmas cards are about the extent of our contact at this point. All I know about their lives is what they share in their Christmas cards. But their cards don’t give me a full or accurate picture of their lives, just the wonderful parts.
 
As an example, I learned a few days ago that one of my high school friends has cancer and plans to start chemotherapy in January. He may not send us a card this year. But I’m pretty sure that, if he does, it won’t mention his cancer. It will be all about what a great year he and his wife had.
 
That’s not a criticism of my friend. I like Christmas cards. And I get that Christmas cards are not the place for people to expose their wounds and their troubles. If my friend wants to tell me about his cancer, he’ll do that directly, not through a generic letter.
 
But what my more critical friend is getting at with regard to Christmas cards in particular is something I also find challenging at this time of year. The tone of the Christmas season is relentlessly upbeat. This is supposed to be the happiest time of year. That’s great for people whose lives are going well when they are in a good mood. But it’s not great for people who struggle at Christmastime, which is a lot of people.
 
Some parents worry about disappointing their children. That’s not a worry I thought much about until a few years ago, when I spoke to a woman on Christmas Eve who had nothing for her son and felt terrible about it. But at least that is a need we can and do help with. Things like our Agawam Christmas Project are intended to ensure that needy families in our area have at least a few presents for their children on Christmas morning.
 
The people who suffer most are the ones who miss someone they love, especially if the loss is relatively recent. And for many of them, which I know includes some of you, all the holiday cheer can be a little hard to take.
 
On Christmas Eve, I’ll give an upbeat sermon, I promise. But I love this service, our Blue Christmas service, for the chance to let down the façade, and to be honest about the struggles we experience in this season, whatever form those struggles may take.
 
I also think this service helps us get below the superficial good cheer of this season to the true good news of Christmas.  
 
I start with the Gospel challenge. As we just heard, Jesus warns us that becoming his disciples requires us to deny ourselves, take up our crosses, and follow him.
 
In the first century, Jesus meant that more or less literally. Many of Christ’s followers in the first several generations got crucified.
 
But even in those first generations, the majority of Christians didn’t literally die on crosses. For them, as for us, Jesus is saying that the Christian life is not necessarily easy, that we will experience trials and tribulations along the way, that discipleship means willingly accepting the sufferings that come our way.
 
Each of us has a slightly different cross. And some crosses are, of course, MUCH heavier than others. But all of us have a cross of one sort or another to carry. Crosses are just part of the deal.
 
That’s the bad news. But for anyone who is suffering in any way, it’s not, in fact, news at all. We know we have burdens. Jesus just names that fact for us.
 
The real news is the rest of our reading. Jesus helps us with our burdens.
 
That’s what it means when Jesus says, “Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens.” That’s us. That’s everyone who struggles at any time of year, but especially those who struggle at this time of year, when pretending to be merry can wear people down.
 
Jesus promises—twice!—to give the weary rest. More good news.
 
And then Jesus makes a statement that has not always made sense to me: “my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” 
 
Jesus tells us that following him means taking up our crosses, which can be mighty heavy. And Jesus tells us that his yoke, his burden, which is to say our crosses, are easy and light. I haven’t suffered much, and I still wouldn’t call my cross particularly easy or light!
 
But I have come to see that Jesus means even heavy burdens become manageable when we allow Jesus to help us bear them.
 
And the good news of Christmas is precisely that Jesus does help us bear them, that Jesus comes as Immanuel, which means God is with us (Matthew 1:23). God is with us in our good times. And, thankfully, God is with us when we struggle and need God most.
 
I really am looking forward to a merry Christmas in the normal sense of that term. Our children will be with us, which will be a great joy. After Christmas, I’ll visit my parents, which will be another great joy. It’s even possible my brother will meet me at our parents’ house for yet more joy.
 
But the good news of Christmas is not about the presents we receive. The good news of Christmas is not even about the chance to be with people we love, wonderful though that may be. The good news of Christmas is that Christ comes into our lives, burdened as they are, and that Christ lifts some of that burden.
 
That good news is what makes this season joyful even for those of us who are heavily burdened. And for that good news, I give thanks to God.
 
In Christ’s name. Amen.