For those for whom this Christmas will be blue …

As we hear ‘Joy to the world’ being sung in the background, a well-meaning friend greets us with a ‘Merry Christmas.’ But for some people, perhaps for you, it’s not joyful and it’s certainly not merry. It’s a Blue Christmas – a season marked by sadness and grief, by the awareness of someone or something you’ve lost.

Christmas comes around each year, and whatever our beliefs, this season can mark, as the carol has it, ‘the hopes and fears of all the years’. Everything, be it laughter or tears, sorrow or success, seems to get magnified in the glow of the Christmas lights. Christmas is as often a time of sadness as it is of joy. We know our griefs and our losses, as much as we celebrate the goodness of life, and our hope for things to come.

In writing these words I acknowledge those of you for whom this Christmas will be blue – for whom tears may come more readily than smiles – for whom deep loneliness will be your companion. It’s hard to feel, to acknowledge the depth and weight of sadness when the expectation of those about us is for joy and celebration. Yet, this Christmas is yours, for it has its own special meaning.

I think of a young poor couple in search of a place to lodge and, when finding no room, must settle for a stable in an obscure small town, kilometres from nowhere. They’re homeless and lonely, at least for that night, and about to deliver their first-born. They too are missing people from their lives. Their parents and siblings, aunts and uncles, cousins and friends – people who would normally have been with them at such a time, were missing. Missing people – because they are far away, or dead, or estranged – have always been part of Christmas.

In a special way the Christmas story is your story. I recall the words of a New Zealand carol which speaks of the Christ child as

‘the Child of joy and peace

born among the poor

on a stable floor

cold and raw,

you knew our hunger,

weep our tears and cry our anger.’

Christmas is also yours. Your tears, your memories, your hurts and loneliness, and maybe your anger too – all these have their place, as do your delights and joys, and the love of those dear to you.

You stand at the heart of Christmas, for here is God sharing your life, moving into your tears and your laughter, your joy and your sorrow, your fear and your courage, your life and your death. What a strange mixture our lives are as the light and darkness mingle. But here, in this mixture, we find the one named Emmanuel, ‘God-with-us’.

One final thought – I also recall the words the angel spoke to the shepherds, ‘Do not be afraid!’ Perhaps they are spoken to us, to you, as we face a changed world. Do not be afraid. Have hope and may you know peace in your heart.

• Alister Hendery, Acting Dean, Waiapu Cathedral