Merry Christmas from Dixie

It’s Christmas time again, peace on Earth, good will to men, and I love it! Although, that was not always so. 

For most of my childhood, the time leading up to Christmas was filled with anxiety. It seemed that some trauma had happened in my mother’s childhood that triggered an uncontrollable urge to start some kind of drama right before this blessed holiday. Perhaps not having any religious traditions was a precursor to nothing ever being stable for any period of time in our home. Growing up Marine meant half the time dad wasn’t there and mom had to make it happen on her own. However, I was never angry with her when these occurrences happened, I kind of expected it, perhaps even considered it normal. And it appears I was not alone. Anxiety this time of year seems to be very common, and peace on earth never seems to leach down to the micro level. 

So, when I became a husband and later a father, I determined to make this time of year much more peaceful than I had been accustomed to, and my wife could not have been more helpful, sometimes pulling it altogether while I was traveling for business. Of course, with any large family, money could get a little stretched at this time of year, but we always made it. Our children had plenty of presents under the tree, lots of activities leading up to Christmas Day that added to the excitement of the season, and most importantly, a Christian tradition that starts with Advent and ends with Epiphany.

Perhaps you’ve gotten caught up in celebrating the commercial aspects of the Christmas season, which is very easy to do. It’s that time of the year when you eat too much, drink too much; Evan Williams eggnog is my downfall. You will probably overspend. If you’re fortunate, you’ll spend time with the ones you love, perhaps time with those with whom you are cordial but not particularly fond of, and you’ll call a truce during this festive time, for momma or grandmother. All of this is wonderful, because it’s Christmas! 

As a Presbyterian, we have 52 holy days a year, they come every Lord’s Day, and many of my brethren are content with just being faithful to maintain that consistency. And if you’re not doing at least those days, perhaps that’s why the Christmas season gets you all stressed out. You know you should feel something, at least some transcendent spirituality, but if you’re honest, it’s a bit unnatural to you.

So, what’s the remedy to those Christmas blues? Go to church, even if you had not planned on it. When you get there, don’t feel like a stranger, engage with people, act like you’ve been coming for years. You’ll be surprised how many people there are just like you. And they are just looking for a friendly face and a kind word, just like you. And when it’s time to sing, sing loudly! I threatened the people at my church one time that if they didn’t sing louder, they were going to have to hear me sing. Afterwards, a few thanked me for prompting them to make a joyful noise unto the Lord; it comforted them and gave them confidence to sing. 

Speaking of singing, this is an excellent time of year to lose your voice praising the God of Heaven for the incarceration of the Son of God in the form of little baby Jesus. And there are too many of my favorites to list, so I’ll just give you a few. “O Holy Night” just gives me tingles when we, in unison, sing the verse, “fall on your knees, oh hear the Angel voices.” Wow! That echoes off the walls of my little chapel like the angels themselves are singing along with us, because they are! 

But there is one Christmas hymn that breaks me every time I sing it, and the most pivotal verse is almost always left out in the versions you hear on the radio; without it, there is no point in Christmas at all. For as beautiful as the story of the birth of Jesus is, with heralding angels, lowly shepherds, wise men from the East, and even the villain of our story, Herod, it means nothing without these lines from “What Child Is This?” written by Englishman William Dix in 1865. Rarely can I sing them without my voice cracking and tears in my eyes. 

Nails, spear, shall pierce Him through,

The Cross be borne, for me, for you:

Hail, hail, the Word made flesh,

The Babe, the Son of Mary!

For without the Cross, without this little lamb being led to the slaughter on our behalf, Christmas would be hollow. 

So, don’t let the Christmas blues get you down; if someone tries to ruin it with drama, let it go. “It’s Christmas in Dixie, it’s snowing in the pines,” quoting those wonderful boys from Alabama. And adding the immortal words of Allen Jackson, “Let it be Christmas everywhere, let heavenly music fill the air.”

Merry Christmas, and God save the South!