This is an adapted form of the sermon I preached at our congregation’s annual Blue Christmas service on Sunday, December 17, 2023. The reading I preached on was Isaiah 9:2-7.

One of the most beloved traditions of Christmas is the music. There are so many about Jesus, about Santa Claus, about jingle bells and snowmen. Most of these songs are overflowing with happiness and joy, and for many people, these songs are a source of joy for the season. It’s hard to even think about Christmas without music.

But for some of us, Christmas songs that once brought us joy can become sources of sorrow and grief. One of the reasons I find this Blue Christmas service to be so important is that at this time of year is because so many of the songs and traditions of Christmas are about family and nostalgia, and for those who are suffering, those songs and traditions can make that suffering worse, not better. It can feel like nobody sees us in our grief or sorrow, because those are two things that seem so unwelcome at Christmas.

One song in particular that can do this is “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” written by Hugh Martin in 1944. This is one of the classics, made famous first by Judy Garland in the movie Meet Me in St. Louis, and then recorded by Frank Sinatra and countless others. This is one of those songs that can be incredibly hard to hear if you enter the Christmas season with grief. Lyrics that were once happy can become so painful. “Through the years we all will be together.” Or “Faithful friends who are dear to us gather near to us once more.”

But I found out just this past week that those aren’t the original lyrics that Hugh Martin wrote. His original words were very different, and he changed them when Judy Garland refused to sing them as written. I’d like to read to you Martin’s original lyrics to “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” They’re very different.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
It may be your last
Next year we may all be living in the past
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Pop that champagne cork
Next year we may all be living in New York
No good times like the olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who were dear to us
Will be near to us no more
But at least we all will be together
If the Lord allows
From now on, we’ll have to muddle through somehow
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now

What a different song that was! I can understand why Garland wanted the lyrics changed. It’s too dark, too bleak. But you know what else it is? It’s honest. I think that Martin himself was probably through some kind of grief when he wrote it. And I think he shared that grief honestly. His original lyrics were a brutally honest sign of how Christmas can feel when you’re grieving.

And that honesty does something very important: it makes room for hope. Now, I’m not saying those lyrics are hopeful! They’re not. They are dark and melancholy. But their honesty makes room for real hope, for the true hope of Christmas. Martin’s original words reflect the truth that we sometimes live in darkness and melancholy. Some of us live in deep darkness. Acknowledging that makes room for the words we heard today from the prophet Isaiah:

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. Those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them light has shined.”

Because this is the true hope of Christmas. The true hope of Christmas is that the light of God is shining on us. The true hope of Christmas is that the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

If you are living in darkness now, it doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. It doesn’t mean that your faith is weak. It doesn’t mean that you have done something wrong. It means that life has dealt you a rough hand this year. And it means that God is there for you.

The true hope of Christmas is that you, the people who walked in darkness, have seen a great light. And if you haven’t seen that light yet, then the hope is that you will soon. You will soon.

The true hope of Christmas is that God is breaking the yoke of your burden, the bar across your shoulders. Whatever that burden is.

The true hope of Christmas is that a child has been born for you, a son given to you. And he is named

Wonderful Counselor

Mighty God

Everlasting Father

Prince of Peace.

What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.

This promise is for you. You, specifically, the people who come to a Blue Christmas service. I mean, the people who are happy at Christmas, they get the promise too, but the light has come for you, because you’re the ones living in darkness. You’re the ones who need it most.

Christmas means that God has come to this world. Christmas means that God has come in the flesh to be with the people God loves, to give them light and hope and peace. A child is given for you. The light shines in the darkness for you.

And I proclaim to you that you will see it. You will glimpse that light, that hope, that peace this year. Not because the songs say that you’ll be happy, not because the day of Christmas brings some magical healing. But because God has promised to come into the world. God has promised to shine light on those in deep darkness.

This year, be patient with yourself. Be kind to yourself. Be honest with yourself. Take care of yourself. You might not see the glory of the angels this year, but you will glimpse the light of God. Maybe only a glimpse, but that glimpse will be there. That’s the promise of Christmas. It’s a promise stronger than any Christmas song, any Christmas tradition. And most important, it’s a promise stronger than any suffering you have. God’s light will be there. And you will glimpse it.

Learn more about the history of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” here.

Image by Bonnie Kolarik from Pixabay