Christmas Eve Lessons and Carols

December 24, 2022

Isaiah 9:2-7

A new version of “Blue Christmas” hit the charts this month, sixty-five years after Elvis Presley’s popular rendition. Christmas is blue (the idea goes) when we are without the person we love. “I’ll have a blue Christmas without you.”

Some churches now offer “Blue Christmas” services. One church advertised their service like this: “a space for those not feeling so merry & bright during the holidays.” The church offers “a space where you can be still and quiet and not have to pretend to be jolly.”

It’s well meaning, responding to the cultural demand we put on a veneer of gaiety. Happy holidays! And if they’re not happy for you, at least pretend.

The assumption is that the big Christmas service—which here at Immanuel is this one—is merry and bright and doesn’t really offer anything for the losers: the people whose lives are difficult, and lonely, and painful.

But that’s not Christmas. Christmas is for losers. Christianity is for losers.

The word gospel means “good news.” Good news only makes sense in the darkness of despair and loss. The good news of the first Christmas is announced to men working the night shift in a dangerous job in an occupied country. “Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy.” To men afraid and downcast comes the good news, the gospel.

Isaiah describes it this way: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” You’ve felt that darkness. The things you cannot put right. The guilt of what you’ve done wrong. The anger at those who have hurt you. And the people who aren’t coming back. As the losses mount, it’s tempting to see Christmas as so much tinsel without substance, nostalgia where the past is brighter than the future.

The good news is precisely for those who see and feel the darkness of sin, burden, death. Just before Isaiah’s beautiful words, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light,” God’s Word comes to those in the darkness. He explains to them how the earth got in this mess. The immediate context is the Assyrian war, when the Assyrians defeat Israel, carry them into captivity, and make them slaves. “To the law and to the testimony!” God’s Word says; which is to say, “Turn back to God’s commandments and promises. Pay no heed to the demands and enticements of the world.” “To the law and to the testimony! If they do not speak according to this word, it is because there is no light in them…. Then they will look to the earth, and see trouble and darkness, gloom of anguish; and they will be driven into darkness. Nevertheless the gloom will not be upon her who is distressed.” That’s the story of mankind. Turning away from God’s Word, we sought our own way, made our own rules, made our own gods. It drove us into darkness. And in the darkness we found death.

“Nevertheless the gloom will not be upon her who is distressed.” The gloom is taken away from whom? The distressed. The distressed are those who repent. The distressed are those who say, “I have sinned, and I cannot save myself.” God helps those who cannot help themselves. The light shines on those in darkness.

The Church uses light, such as candlelight, not merely for emotional effect. Lights certainly affect our emotions. I’m profoundly happy when we light our candles and sing “Silent Night.”

But absent what the light symbolizes, we may as well sing “Candle in the Wind.” Princesses and movie stars die, and the songs of this world can only lament them. They cannot raise the dead.

But the cradle song for Jesus tells of a different kind of light breaking in on the world. “Christ, the Savior, is born!” proclaims the arrival of the One who raises the dead. His birth is “the dawn of redeeming grace.” He is the Light shining in the darkness. And the darkness cannot prevail.

Jesus Christ is the Light of the world, the Light no darkness can overcome. And at the moment of deepest darkness, when the kings of the earth conspire to destroy the Son of the virgin; when the light of the sun is blotted out, and a spear is readied to open His side, this infant will speak: “Father, forgive them.”

He will enter the darkness of the tomb, and lie alone on its cold stone. This Child comes to experience your darkness, to know your loneliness, to fear your fears and die your death. Swaddled with cloths in the manger, He is again wrapped with cloths in the tomb. And rising, He folds them up and leaves them behind.

The deepest, darkest hue of blue is finished. Light illumines the tomb. Death has lost its power.

This Light is for you who are blue. Christmas is for the blue. Christmas is for losers, for sinners, for those poor in spirit and deep in death’s shadow. Unto you, unto us a Child is born; unto you, unto us a Son is given. So “Do not be afraid! For behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will to be all people. For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” In Jesus is light and life, and the darkness is scattered forever. +INJ+