Christmas is supposed to sparkle.
December arrives with a cup of cheer, cookies, fairy lights and an angelic chorus that fills the air with gladness. This year, I admit I am not feeling very merry.
Headlines are heavy. Wars rage. Politics fractures our country. And personally, grief still lingers at the edges of our family life, hanging like garland on a mantle.
Some years simply don’t sparkle. Some years arrive less as “merry and bright,” and more as “bleak midwinter.”
A Gilded Christmas
In Washington, D.C. however, it is all sparkle this season. A preview video hints at an all-gold theme for the White House’s upcoming holiday decorations, echoing the newly renovated Oval Office’s palette.
It is sure to be fit for a king. Perhaps it is the perfect match for the smirking, king-like portrayal of Trump shared on the administration’s own social media earlier this year.
Unfortunately, the new $250 million ballroom won’t be ready to join the display.
Nevertheless, to kick off the holiday season, the First Lady of the United States welcomed the arrival of the White House Christmas tree. This year’s stunning concolor fir boasts a citrusy aroma and stands nearly 25 feet tall. Just days earlier, the President welcomed Saudi Arabia’s Mohammed bin Salman to the White House with a marching band, a black-tie dinner, and a military flyover.
The only thing more opulent than a Christmas tree journeying over 650 miles to its destination was the red carpet roll out for a crown prince accused of involvement in the murder of a journalist—a killing the President shrugged off with, “…Things happen.”
Amid such displays of golden grandeur, the contrast with most folks’ “real world” feels especially sharp. Although the President claims increased affordability and that prices “are coming down very substantially on groceries and things,” inflation remains steady, and grocery and U.S. consumer prices continue to rise.
Families are struggling to afford gifts, travel, or even the basics of daily life. Despite campaign promises, the price of eggs has increased for more than six consecutive weeks.
Rising prices mean shrinking celebrations for many, even while a golden display at the White House suggests a robust economy. More than the fallout from economic pressure, political polarization leaves neighbors suspicious of one another and families unable to tolerate each other long enough to share a holiday meal.
Even within their own house, Republicans are feuding. Americans saw Marjorie Taylor Greene publicly break with Trump, announcing her resignation effective January 5.
It is into this landscape that the words of Christmas carols echo: “Long lay the world in sin and error pining…” These lines of “O Holy Night” give our threadbare souls space to grieve the heaviest headlines, and to name aloud how very far we are from peace on earth.
Heavy Hearts
It’s hard to create Christmas magic and sing joyfully when your heart is heavy.
“O Holy Night” speaks to our grief-stricken world, but it does not leave us there: “…’til He appeared and the soul felt its worth. A weary world rejoices.”
The weary world is ours. It is war-torn, politically fractured and economically strained. It is grief-filled both publicly and personally.
And yet, the invitation to rejoice comes to this very world, and to us. It is an invitation to a hope that God draws near. Not to the palaces draped in gold, but to the edges where grief lingers, where ordinary people wonder if they can afford groceries, where communities strain with division.
Advent insists that light pierces the darkness, arriving here and in all the places that feel the least merry and bright.
To a world gifted with golden tree displays but that feels devoid of peace, Jesus said: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid” (John 14:27).
A Weary World Rejoices
This season, if your world feels weary, remember that hope is not something we wait for passively. It is something we kindle in one another.
It comes with every act of compassion, kindness and justice. It comes with our insistence on a free press and our unwavering support of abuse survivors.
It comes with holding politicians, like New York City’s mayor-elect, accountable to bring their promises to fruition on behalf of those we love, “whether you are an immigrant, a member of the trans community one of the many Black women that Donald Trump has fired from a federal job, a single mom still waiting for the cost of groceries to go down, or anyone else with their back against the wall. Your struggle is ours, too.”
Our advocacy and community involvement that demand justice and mercy for our neighbors become part of the collective light we kindle together. Our insistence on politics that does not retaliate against opponents helps uphold the spark of democracy, paving the way toward a government that is truly for the people, including those on the margins. And our tenderness with our neighbors, family and friends cuts through the darkness to carry hope and peace to a weary world.
In this shared glow, our own grief and fear loosen their grip, and we remember that we are not alone. Maybe it is here, in this fragile but bright definition of community, where a weary world can dare to rejoice.
I suppose that is why I am looking less toward great golden displays of grandeur this year, and more toward the softer lights at home. The grief that lingers on our mantle still aches, but even there, hope remains, however small the spark.
It is held in memories, in love, and in what we are doing to bring light into God’s weary world. I hope that you will keep moving toward light this season, too, helping your own neighborhood shine a little brighter.
In all the quiet corners, where grief hangs in your house, where the bleak midwinter has settled in, may soft lights remind you that you are held even as hope makes its way toward you. May Emmanuel meet you there.
May your season be merry and bright with peace, and may it sparkle in defiant joy.
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Rev. Michelle Wahila is an ordained PCUSA pastor, founder of Ruffled by Grace, and sought-after officiant and retreat leader. She creates heartfelt celebrations and soulful experiences that blend tradition with imagination. Now living in a 19th-century farmhouse in rural France with her family and a menagerie of pets, she enjoys gardening, making jam, and savoring a good cup of coffee.
