Tears are not absent during the holidays.
For many, happiness mingles with family gatherings and lit trees, and praise the Lord for the smiles and laughter. But sometimes there is sadness mixed in. There are tears over the loss of what used to be, an ache from the longing of a child absent in the family circle, grief from the absence of a father or mother, and pain from an illness that seems to have taken precedence over every important thing in life.
And then there are the everyday tears of frustration that don’t seem to stay away just because it’s Christmas. We experienced these kinds of tears a few years ago while watching The Nativity with our family the night before Christmas. The tears were not due to the amazing reality of the incarnation. No. The tears were attributed to a scene in the movie that displayed the killing of a cow. As the scene unfolded, my young daughter cried out, “Why would they kill a cow, dad? Why a cow? What did the cow do to them?” There were a lot of tears over the cow.
I was more frustrated than usual with her emotional response. It was Christmas, for heaven’s sake. Swallow the tears! Bottle them up and let them flow any other day. Just not on Christmas.
But we live in a broken world, and it is not suddenly made new for one special season. Even on Christmas, the pain and suffering that results from the brokenness remains, and it is sometimes felt more acutely than other times of the year.
After our movie ended and the kids made their way to bed, I sat in front of my Christmas tree and let my own tears flow. I missed my dad and mom, both with Jesus. Through my tears, I could see the days when family members from all over would would spend hours eating, opening presents, and celebrating our Savior’s birth. Through the tears, I could see the bountiful table and the kids curled up in mom’s lap. I could see my dad snagging that fourth (or tenth?) Christmas cookie.
But there is so much more to see through the Christmas tears.
Jesus came into this world to understand and identify with our longing and pain. Jesus came into the world in a stable and not in a palace. I’m sure it smelled, and I’m quite certain it was not all that silent. His bed wasn’t perfectly prepared ahead of time, but instead he lay in a trough. He entered into the smelly, noisy, anxious, not tidied-up world that surrounds most of humanity even today. Jesus entered into this brokenness fully and completely, suffered immensely as He hung from the cross, and proved He conquered all when He rose from the grave.
Through the tears, I see the splendor of all we have to look forward to because of the incarnation. Through the pain of this world, I see Jesus, and no longer as a babe but as the risen King over all. Through suffering, I look forward to the day when we will see this King of Kings and Lord of Lords. And we will behold Him not through unclear and hazy eyes because our tears will be wiped away, a promise deserving of our Hallelujahs.
“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
The implications of Jesus taking on humanity should be as deeply felt as the tears that streak our face. This is Grace. This is Joy unspeakable. This is the true meaning of Christmas.
There will be joy this Christmas season, but for some there will be tears. There’s no need to bottle them just because it’s Christmas. See Christmas through the tears; it’s a beautiful sight to behold.
