let's have an attitude like that of Micah when we fall into sin:
Rejoice not over me, O my enemy; when I fall, I shall rise; when I sit
in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me. I will bear the
indignation of the Lord because I have sinned against him, until he
pleads my cause and executes judgment for me. He will bring me out to
the light; I shall look upon his vindication. (Micah 7:8-9)
The Lord Himself pleads our cause and executes judgement FOR us, and not TO us, all because of our risen King Jesus!! Let's rejoice at the salvation we were given and keep pressing on!!
G.K. Chesterton tells a story about a young boy who goes out to sit on
a hill and draw with pieces of chalk on a scrap of brown paper. The boy
is initially excited, but then frustrated upon realizing he has
forgotten the piece he thinks most important—the white chalk. He mulls
in frustration for a short time, then erupts into laughter as it dawns
upon him that the hill he sits on is itself made entirely of white
chalk. I see a profound picture of Christmas in Chesterton’s story.
It’s easy to forget in the midst of Christmas festivities that, for
many, Christmas will not be so festive this year. For a lot of people,
this will be the first Christmas after losing a spouse or child. Others
will experience Christmas as spectators, watching the world around them
celebrate, as they would love to do if only they still had, or just
once could have, the wealth necessary for a Christmas celebration. For
some, every holiday song, every advertisement and decoration only
serves as an amplifier of pain: “There’ll be no need to go across town
to his favorite store this year,” so the Christmas-sale ad seems to say
to the widow. “This is how most people (except you) enjoy Christmas
shopping,” says the mall commercial to the minimum-wage-earning, single
mom of three. And what a heart-stab every mention of Christmas toys
must be to those who have lost a child. There are many—very many—who
watch all of Christmas as orphans watch through the orphanage window as
families play across the street.
From this it is extremely tempting to give up our cheer and take a view
that is more “mature,” a levelheaded view that pulls our head out of
the clouds, sobers us with the “real world,” and prevents us from
getting caught up in all the childish Christmas hype. But such a view
is shortsighted to say the least.
Before I go any further, please don’t take this as some muddle-headed
attempt to counter deep pain with trite Bible clichés. Make no mistake;
pain hurts. But one can either hurt in hope or hurt in despair, all
depending on the level of insight and faith.
I said to lose cheer is tempting but shortsighted, because to do so is
to stop and turn around within sight of the finish line. As dark as
many situations may seem, the light is ironically close. The remedy to
the pain evoked in so many by Christmas celebrations can only be had in
looking past the celebrations to their source. If shiny tinsel and
lights and family dinners are really all Christmas is about, hurting,
lonely people have little hope.
But what (rather who) lies at the very bedrock of all the Christmas cheer? It is the Father, the Lover, the one who ultimately
defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow. The great irony is,
in many people, loneliness and pain are intensified by the
commemoration of the coming of the only One who can cure our loneliness
and pain. Those whose pain is aggravated by Christmas are in a
situation much like a man stranded on a desert island who is irritated
when the island’s silence is broken by the foghorn of a rescue ship.
With Chesterton’s story in mind, Christmas makes us aware that no
matter how bad we are hurting, we sit on a hill of white chalk.
