December 1998 Issue

Prior to discussing some of the pastoral implications of this passage, it might be helpful to review a particular issue in pastoral care that is easily forgotten as we move through the Christmas and New Year's holiday season. Many of us who look eagerly forward to Christmas and anticipate the New Year celebrations may be not aware that this is one of the major family holiday periods which, along with Thanksgiving and—to a lesser extent—Easter, has profound impact on the inner psychological lives of many people. No other holiday seems to have potential for such emotionally regressive responses as does Christmas in its power to evoke nostalgic associations for us. It returns us to memories of our childhood experiences, our important family traditions and reminds us of all the changes and losses that have occurred over the intervening years.

For this reason, preaching during the Christmas and New Year holiday should be sensitive to the possibility that some people in the congregation may be experiencing a depressive response that is masked by superficial expressions of conventional good will. This concern is especially pertinent if there has been a death in the family during the past year. If the loss occurred during a previous Christmas period, the holiday is also an anniversary, and the grief may even be more pronounced. Divorce, serious illnesses, job changes, financial pressures and retirement may also influence how we approach the holiday season in which celebration is the norm. Many of those who are feeling less than receptive to festive social events may find themselves experiencing a sense of alienation and subsequently blame themselves for not being able to get into the Christmas "spirit" or look forward to a new beginning as another year ends.

Because Christmas evokes such strong reminiscence of earlier times, especially one's own childhood, it should be kept in mind that some of our parishioners grew up in families in which Christmas was an especially difficult time. For instance, I have known people from alcoholic family backgrounds in which excessive drinking and abuse commonly pervaded the holidays. Those who grew up in large families with limited resources may also have ambivalent memories associated with the disparity between the excessive spending so prominent during Christmas and their own modest circumstances. Many people also experience a significant degree of exhaustion as a result of the frantic pace and numerous demands of the season. It is no wonder that some arrive at the first of January relieved that the holiday season is finally over. We should never be surprised to find those within our congregations who, for various reasons, experience the entire season as a trying and difficult period of the year.

The scripture passage for this day continues the theme of how critical insights come to us in our dreams. Joseph receives a warning that he and the family must flee to Egypt to escape Herod's pogrom. Later he is told in a dream that it is safe to return to Israel. Another dream leads him to settle in Nazareth. We hear a story of near escape, constant danger and final respite from a fugitive existence. All this stands in contrast to the earlier parts of the nativity story. We are now back in the "post-Christmas" world, full of unpredictable difficulty and random suffering.

Since this Sunday is also New Year's Eve, some pastoral attention might be given to the contrast between the nativity texts and the passage under consideration. The serene joy of Christmas Eve, just one week ago, has given way to an entirely different set of circumstances. We cannot remain in the manger beyond the Silent Night's vigil, we must now follow Mary, Joseph and Jesus on a perilous journey. Together we, too, must face the sad reality that the world does not interrupt its usual business for very long. Even now, in some parts of the world, the official "Christmas Truce" will have ended and hostilities resumed. In Oklahoma City and Sarajevo, as well as streets not too far from where we ourselves live, the "Slaughter of the Innocents" continues. Indeed, much of the Christmas spirit among ourselves has already begun to wane. The generosity and kindness of a mere week ago have inevitably yielded to anxiety about an uncertain future. These lines from Yeats' "The Second Coming" say it full force:

These classic lines remind us all that as much as we would like to have it otherwise, Christmas is a respite, perhaps even an artificial one, from the persistent fears and hatreds of a world that refuses to practice the way of Christ. We may also experience ourselves slipping back into old patterns and attitudes that were briefly changed for the better during the Christmas season. Now New Year's offers us another chance to change; but, in truth, even the resolutions we are about to make last a notoriously short time.

This hard text brings us back to the realties we so easily dismiss. It demands that we re-enter the "real world" and prepare ourselves for a continuing confrontation with suffering and evil. This passage of scripture reminds us that blessing and tragedy often occur in conjuction with each other. We cannot have one without the possibility of the other. After the celebration comes the inevitable let-down; the great opportunity becomes another daunting challange. Out of an anguished defeat comes a moment of true clarity and purpose. This is the cycle of life that we are called upon to name truthfully and live faithfully. In this sense, Christmas and New Year's—the entire Advent Season itself—is grounded in the same reality: It begins with prophetic warning and a call to repentance leading up to the inbreaking of God's incarnate presence in the world. Then, it leads us out, once again, into a world that is both blessed and broken, full of suffering and promise. When we are able to see that life is not either/or but both/and, we are prepared for the journey ahead into a year that has the potential to be truly new.

Frank J. Stalfa, Jr.

Bibliography
W.B. Yeats, Selected Poems and Two Plays, Edited by M.L. Rosenthal (New York: MacMillan Co., 1962).