Blue Christmas, Holiday Healing Service, St. Mark's Episcopal Church, Wednesday, December 18, 2019, 5:30 pm

Blue Christmas, Holiday Healing Service, St. Mark’s Episcopal Church, Wednesday, December 18th, 2019, 5:30 pm

The holidays are often the hardest for those of us who have experienced the death of a loved one or another lost, such as the loss of a job, addiction, divorce, depression, or serious illness. Several congregations have services around Christmas like this one to let those in their community know that the church has some awareness how difficult this time can be./ My only brother died five years ago the day after Christmas. I still miss him every day, but especially in December since he was such a Christmas person. /

Living through these difficult times can be a painful journey. Tonight, we are going to look at two road maps for the journey that may bring comfort. The first journey is that of the paralyzed man carried by his friends on a pallet/ through the roof to Jesus./

We cannot depend on ourselves always to know and feel the healing love of God. This is why we need spiritual friends. This is why we are called to community. We are like this man who is brought to Jesus on a pallet by his friends and lifted through a roof to Jesus below/ because the man cannot move. A large crowd blocks access to Jesus. When we become paralyzed with fear, loneliness, pain, and feel trapped, we need spiritual friends to carry us on that pallet through the roof to God. Sometime we are the person on the pallet.\At other times we will become the friends carrying another companion on the pallet to healing./

At St. Mark’s we have a glimpse of the depth of the pain on this journey as we help carry friends to healing in a yearly grief group, Walking the Mourner’s Path. We walk with people near their lowest point after the death of child, a spouse, a parent, a brother, a sister, a partner. Participants share the difficulty of anniversaries and birthdays,/ but the holidays often seem the hardest. We see despair, especially after tragic deaths and death of the young, but as we meet in community, we always experience hope and healing. Sometimes it is only a small transformation, sometimes it is huge. By just coming to the group, participants make a positive commitment to look for new birth, new life. So, they already make a step forward even before they come. As facilitators, we hold the group together, to encourage, listen, give people who sometimes seem paralyzed a time to speak, when they are able. We figuratively walk beside,/ sit along,/ and sometimes carry each other, as we all hold the group in love.

The real healers, however, the real companions carrying their friend on a pallet to healing, are the participants themselves. They know most recently about despair. All are at different stage of grief, but they honor and embrace the stage of each other. They radically hold and support each other. They have experienced a death maybe a year ago, maybe after 20 years. They know the pain better than anyone else. Each year I say less and less, for the wisdom comes from the group carrying each other. / This is one more story of seeing healing in community, as we are called to be present,/ aware,/ listen/ and be open/ to the Christ Child present beside and within us./ Those in recovery also know that this same healing through community is available in 12 step groups.///

There is another explanation of our journey through despair to new life that speaks of its length and difficulty. That is the road we will hear about on Christmas Eve, the road less traveled from Nazareth to Bethlehem to the manger, to new birth, to recovery, new life. This is the journey Mary and Joseph travel from Nazareth to Bethlehem for Jesus’s birth. Our Christmas story concentrates on the manger scene, but that journey before the birth is unbelievably stressful with rugged terrain, dangerous encounters at every turn. Like Mary and Joseph, those experiencing difficulty during the holidays are traveling that 100-mile dangerous, often lonely desert journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. The journey is not safe for Mary and Joseph to travel alone. Their only option is making the journey in community, in a caravan./

Recently I had a Christmas lunch with a Mourner’s Path group who has met annually for almost 10 years to support and love each other, especially during the holidays./ We meet that morning to hear stories of incarnation, new birth, surprises, seeing God’s presence in each other when all seemed lost on that road to Bethlehem and new birth. We talk about little experiences of love that carry us on our journey when we can no longer walk alone. A card, a call, a visit, even an email or text reminds us that we are no longer alone and are surrounded by love. My experience is that this new birth we meet at the manger/ in a stable of a crowded inn/ takes place best, like this,/ in community.

Richard Rohr1 also describes healing in these times of seemingly darkness when we have experienced the death of a loved one, depression, a lost job, divorce, a family member who is not in recovery. “We need a promise, a hopeful direction, or it is very hard not to give up.” When we cannot see or feel or hear the path along the narrow road to new birth, “someone--- some loving person/ or simply God’s own embrace—needs to hold on to us because we sometimes cannot hold ourselves. When we experience this radical holding in love, this brings salvation,” the hope of new birth! This is why we are here tonight to acknowledge loss/ and hold each other in love on this journey./

I have no doubt that everyone here has experienced a Blue Christmas. My ongoing journey to healing occurs best here in community, often over a meal, sharing stories, listening to each other, looking for the Christ Child in each other that has been present long before we were born. Romans reminds us that Christ is always here, reaching out to heal us. Nothing can separate us from God’s love. God never abandons us.

Henri Nouwen2 reminds us that if we have any doubt where God, the Christ Child, lives and walks,/ it is with those of us who are sick, handicapped, hungry, grief stricken, struggling with addiction. God is always with us on this journey. Those in distress may not always feel God’s presence, but God is there holding us at every turn. As we become more isolated, God’s presence may sometimes be just too overwhelming, too vast, for us to feel./ We are to keep looking for little openings,/ small blessings,/ moments of clarity, surprising experiences of love we never expected, connecting us to God who so loves us.

As we await the coming of the Christ Child, I remember the words of many new mothers, “ Now, I know I will never be alone after the birth of my baby.” But this is true for all of us now and forever. We are never, ever alone. Nothing can separate us from God. We may feel alone on this journey, but the Christ child is already here inside of us, inside of the world around us, inside our neighbors. The God of love is here to hold and walk with us to new birth, most often in communities of love such as is gathered here tonight.

Now I am not suggesting we need to start deep spiritual conversations with another who loves us, or someone who may know a little of our grief or distress. We are simply to keep allowing those God sends to us to walk part of this journey with us,/ when it is offered, most often when we least expect it.//

Frederick Buechner3 knows about this difficult journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem before there is new birth./ Buechner is at the lowest point in his life. His daughter is possibly dying, he is helpless, and in some ways he has become almost as sick as she is. One day he receives a call from a friend living in Charlotte, North Carolina almost 800 miles away saying he hears Buechner is having a difficult time and wants to come and visit him. This is a minister acquaintance, not a longtime friend. Buechner replies he would love to see him, and they should arrange a time. His friend says, “Well,/ actually,/ I am presently at the local inn about 20 minutes from your hilltop home in Vermont.” Buechner’s friend comes and stays several days. They take long walks, drive around, eat together. Buechner does not remember any deep theological conversation, and they may not have even mentioned Christ,/ but they do experience/ the touch of the tiny hands of the Christ Child/ reaching out to both of them. Buechner will always remembers/ a friend who radically decides to come and walk that difficult journey to Bethlehem for a few days with him,/ and they both are changed.// This is the kind of love that brings on new birth that God calls us to share and offer to each other./

So tonight, I light a candle and honor my brother, Jim, by sharing what I have learned from you and so many others who have traveled this journey with us. May God hold all of us, as God always does, in the palm of God’s hand,/ as God and this community/ walk this journey to Bethelehem,/ to new birth within us,/ especially tonight/ and throughout this Advent and Christmas season.

1Richard Rohr, Adapted from Richard Rohr, Great Themes of Paul: Life as Participation, disc 10 (Franciscan Media: 2002), CD.

2Henri Nouwen, You Are Beloved.

3Frederick Buechner in The Clowns in the Belfry.

Joanna joannaseibert.com