My worst Christmas memory

So Christmas Day 2013 has come and gone.  For me, it was a hugely enjoyable day, beginning with a church service where people of all ages gathered to celebrate the birth of Jesus.  It was a time of fun and laughter; there were also serious moments as we remembered all those for whom Christmas will be a sad and difficult time.  It was a great way to start the day.

At home we had 8 members of our family for lunch, ranging in ages from Aunt Joan, who is 90, to our grandson Benjamin, who is less than 3 months old.  I so appreciate my family, and opportunities to spend precious times with them.

And to top off a great day, the Christmas episode of Doctor Who.  As I later tweeted, "What more could a man want?"

Much as I enjoy the Christmas period, and all that goes with it, each Christmas my mind goes back to what could be described as my worst Christmas memory.  It was some years ago, when after the Christmas morning service, and before I returned home to spend time with the family, I went to the local hospital to visit a young single mum who was dying of cancer.  She was a lovely lady, and full of fun despite her desperate situation.  Yet the inevitable sadness was there as she contemplated her imminent departure from this world, leaving behind her two young and much-loved children.

I spent some time with her, and prayed with her.  Even though we both knew that from an eternal perspective her future was safe and secure in God's hands, the pain and sorrow of the situation was very real.  It's impossible to imagine the feelings that young mum must have been going through.  She died a few days later.  When we held a service to celebrate her life and say goodbye, it was heart-breaking to see her two children following the coffin, knowing that their mum would not be around to witness their growth to adulthood.  Each Christmas, the memories of that Christmas day experience return.

And of course the reality is that for many people Christmas Day 2013 will have been very hard.  There will be those who mourn for loved ones no longer alive, and others who are going through particularly difficult experiences.  I was deeply saddened to read the following Christmas Day Facebook message from Canon Andrew White (aka The Vicar of Baghdad):

'It was to have been a day of great rejoicing amongst the Christians of Baghdad. Amidst such terrible recent atrocities Christmas was to be a real day of hope. As Christians left church Christmas morning there was a huge bomb, scores of Christians were killed and injured. This bomb was soon followed by another with many more deaths and casualties. This was Christmas day in Baghdad.'

So how does the message of Christmas hope fit in with all the suffering and sadness in the world today?  I am reminded of the opening words of Christina Rossetti's carol, 'Love came down at Christmas.'   

One of the names given to Jesus is 'Emmanuel', which means "God with us."  God stepped down into our broken and hurting world.  He came and lived as one of us, experiencing all that we experience.  Before Jesus returned to the Father, he gave this promise, 'I will be with you always.'  We are not promised a life free from pain or sadness, but we are promised that if we open our hearts to God, he will be with us in every situation.  As Canon Andrew White said earlier today,

'Christmas in Baghdad is burying the dead of those Christians murdered at church yesterday. Despite all the desperate desperation the Lord is still here and with us.'