Blue Christmas 2008
by Rev. Colin Bossen, December 21, 2008
With all of their bright lights and cheer the winter holidays can be hard to face if you are alone, ill or estranged from your family. For some Christmas brings up memories of other Christmases, Christmases when they were less alone. Others face the prospect that this Christmas will be their last. Still others find that the holiday cheer is meaningless to them as they struggle under the weight of the world. With all of the strife and pain in the world it might seem like there is nothing to celebrate. For such people this year will be a Blue Christmas, a time of melancholy rather than a time of celebration.
Our three readings this evening each capture a different element of what can make the holidays difficult. Denise Levertov's poem "Christmas 1944" offers her meditations on the holiday season during a time of war. In the poem she contrasts the "Spindrift sparkle and candles on the tree" with the "cold...seeping in." As she writes:
"A painted bird or boat above the fire,
a fire in the hearth, a candle in the dark,
a dark excited tree, fresh from the forest,
are all that stand between us and the wind."
The wind brings the stories of death and poverty that surround the small light of her home. Christmas with all of its cheer is not enough to ward off the weight of the world. Instead the absence of friends and loved ones reinforces her awareness of it. As a result "we dare not laugh." Laughter during such a time as war seems to her to be a lie that cannot mask the "song of slaves."
Most people who struggle during the holiday season do not struggle because of their concern over the world's woes. Instead they are caught in their own private vortex of despair or unease. The causes of these personal troubles are diverse and often hidden from sight. Unless we are tuned in closely to our fellows we are likely to remain unaware of their struggles. Those who are struggling may even seek to hide their problems from sight, afraid that exposing their struggles may make them feel even more alone.
"The Feast" by Robert Hass captures the tension that often exists between personal struggle and societal celebration. The poem narrates the story of a married woman who is "in darkness/ crying" even as she prepares for a holiday party. There is a tension in her between her desire to be a good hostess and the personal struggles that she is experiencing.
As she stands alone in the kitchen while "her friends were talking on the deck/ in the steady sunshine" preparing to carve the turkey she is overwhelmed. The holiday is not right for her. Something is off about it but neither we nor she know what she wants.
For those who are struggling or alone the holidays are a difficult time. Americans are more likely to die during the holiday season than at other times. Suicide rates increase. For the depressed and isolated the bright lights do not bring cheer. Instead the season can bring a sense of despair and a feeling that the world is leaving them behind.
The last poem that we heard this evening, "Evening-Star" by Louise Bogan, serves as a reminder that no matter how we feel about the holidays they come to us every year. Whether we bid it or not time continues to pass. This can bring both joy and pain to our lives. The onslaught of each passing minute or season reminds us of our mortality and, ultimately, insignificance. Despite the prayer that Bogan offers, the "Light from the planet Venus" does not care for us. It will continue to shine no matter what occurs in our lives. It is an insentient mass of rock, liquid and vapor to which there is no true appeal.
Still, it sparkles first through the night. As the dark onsets Venus is there to remind us that even without the sun light continues. Indeed, only when the light of the sun disappears can we see the lesser shine of Venus. And this is one of the lessons of Blue Christmas. Even as the light disappears from our lives there is always hope for small kindnesses. But if those kindness do not come we can have faith light itself will still return and return until the end of time. No matter what our personal struggles are or how great the folly of humankind reaches light will continue until the universe itself is no more.
Light and dark are tied together. One would not exist without the other. On this darkest of night we are confronted with the hope that the solstice itself brings. Even as we sit amid the cold and dim the Earth creeps closer to the sun and summer seeks to return. In the darkest moments of the year, even as we struggle the most, we can be certain of this.
Tonight we gather seeking light. We have gathered for worship amid the bustle of the holiday season. We have gathered even though some of us may be alone for Christmas, some of us are grieving and some of us cannot refrain from quietly raging against the injustices of our world even in the midst of the holiday. It is good to be together tonight. Now is a time for us to be present with our complicated emotions. To acknowledge that even with the lights of the holidays come our own feelings of sorrow.
Let us then, be thankful for each other tonight. In the face of all of the losses, the difficulties and the sorrows in our lives let us be glad that we have this warm place in which to gather. We might be far from our families and friends, we might be facing difficulties or feeling the absence of loved ones long gone but in this moment we have each other. That, I hope, can make a Blue Christmas a little less blue.
Amen.