Christmas Day
Scripture Reading for Today:
A Peculiar Kingdom Joy
by Elle Pyke
Joy to the world!
It might be a cold and broken hallelujah, but it's a hallelujah nonetheless.
We made it.
Christmas Day 2020.
Precious reader, we all know the kind of year it’s been and the weight it has given to this Advent season of yearning, waiting, hoping and longing. There are moments I still find myself shaking my head, reluctant and unable to fully grasp all that has transpired this year. On this Christmas morning, perhaps you find yourself in a similar place - I’m longing to rejoice and yet find myself holding back, ever so slightly, knowing the grief of our collective moment.
Writing this final Advent reader reflection has been so difficult; thinking about joy in these present circumstances has not come naturally to me. But the unease I feel in penning these words gives me pause that perhaps there are others that need these words as much as I do. Maybe celebrating Christmas and finding joy in the suffering today, is a more authentic way to celebrate the birth of Christ.
It is easy to announce “Joy to the word” when we find ourselves in times of celebration and anticipation of good things through the Christmas season. But the world Jesus was born into was not one void of suffering, it seems there was very little to celebrate. The people of Israel were under the oppressive boot of the Roman empire, living in an age of sadness, yearning, and darkness. And yet, the birth of Jesus, the light He brought to the world, was that much brighter because of the darkness that surrounded him.
Like some of you, I’ve had to push back against the theology of my childhood that told me I could “pray the bad day away” or that a Jesus follower is called to effortlessly float from victory to victory. Over the years, a new spiritual formation had to take place in my life where I allowed grief, suffering and lament to reside in my theology and in my heart.
Regardless of my growing ability to wrestle with the more difficult realities of life and weep with those who weep, while Jesus always calls me to set up a tent in grief, suffering and lament, He has never permitted me to build a home there. My grief, suffering and lament, while it produces good fruit for a season, turn into rot on the tree if I linger there too long without a counterbalance of the peculiar Kingdom joy that we find in Jesus. Our suffering saviour, a man of sorrows, well acquainted with grief, who also, for the joy set before him endured the cross. The kind of joy that we find in Jesus, this peculiar Kingdom joy, is not incompatible with sorrow; in fact, it is made all the more hearty, resilient and robust while in the midst of it.
I have spent a good number of days in 2020, including today, oscillating between joy and sorrow. Dancing between faith and doubt. Sliding between hope and despair. And what is the antidote that Christmas morning has to offer us?
I want to suggest that this morning Jesus is inviting us to remember.
Remember?
That may seem like a simplistic answer to the complicated times we live in, as lockdowns loom, ICUs fill, and the racialized realities in our world come to light, but remembering is no passive activity. Remembering is active, it’s participatory, and not mere sentimentality. When it feels like there is nothing you can do, as so many of us may feel today, the act of remembering is doing something. Actively remembering and bringing to mind the reality of God’s work in our lives in the past, sets us toward hope and awakens our hearts to the possibility of His work in our lives in the present. Remembering can evoke, sustain, strengthen or restore in us a resilient joy when we need it the most.
As God’s family, we come from a long tradition of a people being called into the act of remembering:
“I will call to mind the deeds of the Lord."
“Remember every road that God led you on.”
“Meditate on all His works.”
“Once again, I will remember what God has done.”
“I will muse on your mighty deeds.”
“Do this in remembrance of me.”
Mary, remembering the words that the angel gave to her, as she gave birth to the hope of the world.
Joseph, remembering the words the angel spoke to him, as he held the prince of peace in his arms.
The shepherds, finding the baby in a manger, remembering the words of the angel that said to them ‘Do not be afraid; for see — I am bringing you good news of great joy for all people.”
We’re in good and holy company this Christmas morning remembering the ways in which God has been gracious to us, how Jesus has been good to us, and how the Spirit has been present to us. Our sufferings can give birth to this peculiar Kingdom joy when we pause to remember the ways in which God has been faithful in the past and will indeed be faithful to us again.
Remembering the goodness of God today is an act of joyful resistance and resilience. As Karl Barth describes it, “joy is a continuous defiant ‘nevertheless.’ ” [1] And this moment, of all moments, we need a joyful nevertheless.
So, on this blessed 2020 Christmas morning, may we be a people who nevertheless, joyfully remember, entering into this peculiar Kingdom joy.
May we remember, nevertheless, that unto us, in the midst of all the injustice and suffering of the world, a baby is born and the government will rest on his shoulders.
May we remember, nevertheless, that His name is wonderful counsellor, mighty God, everlasting father, prince of peace. This one who calls us to a radically countercultural, subversive, upside-down way of peace and love.
May we remember, nevertheless, to celebrate the mysterious spiritual reality of the incarnation, not ashamed to be one of us, and the joy as we await His coming once again to make all things new, forever.
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