We’ve never had a Christmas more like the first Christmas

Charlie Brown famously asked: “Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?”

I don’t know if the answer is easy to hear in times of too much.

That is what Christmas does mean to many of us: Too much.

We celebrate too much food. Too much stuff. Too many people to see and too many places to go.

In our culture, Christmas is a time to indulge, to splurge, to say “yes, I’ll have another!”

Could it be that, because of our infatuation with “too much,” we do not have any room left in the inn when Spirit comes knocking?

This year is different.

We are passing through this Christmas without gathering with church, coworkers, family, or friends.

This morning as I write this, one of the most beloved and well-known leaders of our church is losing his fight against COVID. He is straddling the line between death and life. Thousands of people are begging God to have mercy on him and his family.

Every time I say a prayer for him, I think of millions more who are on what could become their own deathbeds. I think of their families.

And I think of the people we know who died this year and the children, grandchildren, and spouses who miss them…most of all at Christmas.

I think of people who are alone. The closest they will get to human contact is across their front yards or through a the bluish light of a screen.

I think of people who struggle to make ends meet even in good times. I think of the savage grief and wild fear that torments some parents as they wonder how they will be able to feed their kids or give them water to drink, let alone put presents under the Christmas tree. These are not people in some far-off country; they are neighbors right here in my own community.

This Christmas, we are experiencing a “too much” of a different kind. Too much grief. Too much lack. Too much loneliness. Too much suffering.

But this Christmas may be the one when we truly find what Christmas is all about. We may, for the first time in our lives, truly share in the experiences of the people in the Christmas story: Homeless. Hungry. Isolated. Lonely. Restless. Suffering loss and pain. Uncomfortable. Weary to the bone. Wondering if the nightmare will end and if life will ever go back to normal.

This Christmas, maybe more than any other Christmas, may be the one when we can hear the weary knock of One who traveled far to visit us.

This Christmas may be the one when we do have room in the inn.

Merry Christmas.

Bert Bryan is the beloved church leader I mentioned in the post above. He has been in the hospital with COVID for quite some time now and is in grave danger as I type this. Friends all over the world are lighting candles in their homes to keep vigil for him and his family. I invite you to do the same and not only for Bert, but for others you know who are in the valley of the shadow of death this Christmas. Grace and peace to you and your circle of love this Christmas season.