"Glory to you, O God! Peace on earth! Good will toward all people!
My spirits sag, my voice stammers, as the angel song rings out once more. For there is all too little of your glory to be discerned through the murky disarray of these times. Surely there is no peace on earth. Goodwill is thinned out and spread lightly upon the surface of human relationships. The nations growl at one another, and the peoples of the earth shudder beneath the threat of annihilation. Will the spirit of peace and goodwill prevail, O Lord? Will the nations beat swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks? The hope comes surging back as the angels sing against the skies of Christmas once again.
But even as I hope once more, I examine myself. And in the light of the Christmas star, my spirits sag to half-mast and my voice stammers into confession of my own inadequacies. I do not feel much glory in life right now. I say "Merry Christmas," but it lacks much of a shine. I am hurried and harried, my nerves all ajangle. I take a time of peace and sing about it, while my nervous system screams protest against the pressures of the season.
Sometimes, even when my good will is forced, and my jolly words are pushed through clinched teeth, I wish the whole thing were behind me so that I could be my cranky, crotchety self again, without feeling guilty. Yet when I stop to think, I do not really wish it were all behind me. I know there is a beauty I must not miss. So relieve my mind and relax my tension by your Spirit, O God. Take the pressure off and let me feel the Presence of the Child of Bethlehem."
-Rev. Dr. Kenneth Phifer
I really do like to feel what I'm supposed to feel at a given time. At funerals, it is much more convenient to feel sad than to giggle uncontrollably at a wonky line in a hymn. On birthdays, I want to feel upbeat about life. In a class or workshop, I'm supposed to feel studious and inquisitive. I think holidays carry a double-edged stress because there are so many idealized "supposed-to's" involved. Christmas is king of that, with a trouncing religious celebration accompanied by family gooshiness by the ton. And yet... we try to celebrate the birth of the savior of the world in the midst of troublesome people. Those people get sick and they get short-tempered and their problems don't go away just because we're in a holiday season.
Nor should their problems be sufficient to smother the beauty that we must not miss. Even when I don't feel like pasting on a smile for bells and reindeer, there is a song to be sung-- a song that cries out for Emmanuel to come, that cries out for a world that needs the hope of Jesus, that cries out for all of us feeling the wrong things and looking for what's right.