When Christmas Hurts

Photo by Kieran White on Unsplash

For some people, Christmas hurts.

The unspoken pain of Christmas was driven home to me at a Christmas Eve Service about a decade ago. As the service began, the congregation was invited to take a simple paper ornament, write the name of someone they were missing that Christmas, and hang it on a barren tree up front. As people began moving forward to hang their ornaments, the ordinary changed into a holy moment. Tears ran down cheeks. Friends and families hugged each other. Pained prayers were spoken.

That moment still feels present a decade later, because something powerful took place. When that church set aside the typical rhythm of Christmas celebrations and gave people space to grieve, they found hurting people.

In many ways, Christmas is “the most wonderful time of the year.” There are parties and presents. Old friends and distant family members are reunited around warm meals. Our culture still remembers, if ever more distantly, the echoes of our Savior’s arrival.

Christmas is warmth in winter, but for those who feel cut off from that warmth, it can almost feel cruel. The anticipation of connection sets us up for pain when those connections aren’t there. Christmas celebrations open the wound of loss when we remember the seat that is no longer filled at the table. They remind us of the dreams of Christmas past that never became the family of Christmas present. The promise of a loving embrace makes the jagged edge of broken relationships cut again.

These pains are carried, often silently, through the Christmas season. The irony is, the message of Christmas is designed as hope for the hurting and balm to the brokenhearted. While expressions of pain, grief, and longing may seem foreign to a Western cultural celebration of Christmas, they are native to the Christmas story.

The book of Matthew shares the story of Mary and Joseph before Jesus was born. We are told that “before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly” (Matt. 1:18b–19). Just imagine how these events must have impacted Mary and Joseph’s relationship!

Mary and Joseph are two kids engaged to be married, their whole lives ahead of them. Then Mary pulls Joseph aside for a conversation. She tells him she is pregnant. Joseph knows the child is not his; the child can’t be his. He’s been waiting for his wedding day. Certainly, Mary tells Joseph she has been faithful, tells him of the miracle of Christ, but Joseph doesn’t believe her. This is the only way to explain his resolve to divorce her quietly. As two tender lives are fracturing, an angel shows up. God intervenes to bring the truth to light and restore Mary and Joseph to one another. To Joseph and Mary’s pain, God brings hope.

Let’s expand the Christmas story a bit further. In Luke chapter two, we find a different sort of pain. As Mary and Joseph go to the temple to offer the appropriate sacrifices and celebrate the birth of Jesus, they meet a man named Simeon. We are told he is “righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel” (v. 25). Upon seeing Jesus, Simeon breaks out in prophetic praise, proclaiming:

“Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace,

according to your word;

for my eyes have seen your salvation

that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,

a light for revelation to the Gentiles,

and for glory to your people Israel” (Luke 2:29–32).

Simeon’s pain was not personal; it was for his people. Israel had returned from exile, but the world was still not right. Worship was taking place at the temple, but his people were still not free. Roman soldiers collected taxes, enforced laws, and restricted Israelite rights. Israel was made to be a free people to God and a hope to the nations.

In an unjust world, God meets brokenhearted Simeon with comfort. Jesus is the fulfillment of Isaiah 40, which opens with,

“Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.

Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,

and cry to her

that her warfare is ended,

that her iniquity is pardoned,

that she has received from the LORD’s hand

double for all her sins” (vv. 1–2).

There is comfort in Christmas, but it is not just for the comfortable. Christmas offers comfort to the sinner, for whom Jesus has leveled and made straight the pathway back to God.

The promise of reconciliation in Isaiah 40 expands the Christmas story even further. It takes us back to a Garden. When God meets Adam and Eve in their shame and fear, he brings home the sobering reality of what they have done. However, the curse and the fall are not the full extent of Genesis 3. Adam and Eve will be separated from the God who gives them hope and joy, but God will send a child of the woman to crush the head of the serpent. Sin separates us from intimacy with God for which we were made, but the birth of Christ is the moment the pregnant hope of Genesis 3 comes to fruition.

Christmas was never meant to leave the hurting outside. It was never meant to make the broken feel alone. Christmas was designed to invite us all back in to know and enjoy God again. So, if you feel hurt, lonely, or even angry this Christmas, remember the invitation Christmas was designed to give you. Give your hurt to the one who heals. In loneliness, run to the one who came to earth to demonstrate God’s love for you. Trust your anger to the God who came to take back his throne.

There is personal comfort in Christmas. It’s good, but it ought not to end with us. The comfort of Christ is meant to move through his comforted people to a hurting world. Let this be the reality of your Christmas. Have an ear for the hurting and give them space to grieve. Share meals and moments with the people who might feel forgotten. Buy gifts and send notes to those who might not otherwise receive them. Pick up the phone and make a call of forgiveness and reconciliation.

Whether you’re hurting or managing just fine this Christmas, put your hope in more than being comfortable. Take up the call of Christmas to be a person who comforts others.

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Dave Carlson is the Discipleship Pastor at Harvest Bible Chapel in Traverse City, Michigan. After completing his undergraduate studies at Michigan State University, he received a Masters in Biblical Studies from Moody Theological Seminary. He is married to his lovely wife, Kelly, and they have two young girls. Dave loves coffee, snowboarding, board games, and most of all talking with people about Jesus.