Dear one,
Throughout my childhood and well into adulthood, increasingly I recognized, at least in memory, that the Presbyterian church I grew up in did little to observe “liturgical traditions.” Seasonal colors (e.g. green, purple, white, and red), Lenten disciplines, or specific “holy” days received little emphasis. I do not make this observation critically; rather, as I have “seasoned,” my appreciation for them has grown.
For instance, in three days of this writing, several traditions will observe Epiphany, traditionally January 6, which celebrates the appearance of the Magi in Bethlehem. Now according to my background, this tradition might be both Biblically and historically suspect, nonetheless each Christmas of memory I surely have sung: We Three Kings of Orient Are. When exactly I first gave thought to the meaning of this hymn, I do not know, but whenever, I was and continue to be struck by its fourth and fifth stanzas:
4. Myrrh is mine; its bitter perfume
breathes a life of gathering gloom;
sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying,
sealed in the stone-cold tomb.
5. Glorious now behold him arise;
King and God and sacrifice:
Alleluia, Alleluia,
sounds through the earth and skies.
And there it is! By means of this hymn and the liturgy of Advent/ Christmas/ Epiphany, Jesus’ Incarnation is inextricably wed to His Crucifixion (verse 4) and His Resurrection (verse 5).[1] This wedding I fully applaud, even if the tradition is questionable and the hymn a late addition (c.1857). Moreover, it is fully consonant with the liturgical colors of purple and white: the former heralds Jesus’ first advent (i.e. the color of royalty), and that of Lent and His Crucifixion, (i.e. the color of suffering); whereas the latter heralds His birth followed by Epiphany, as well as His Resurrection and Ascension (i.e. the color of purity, light, and holiness). Thus liturgically, Incarnation, Crucifixion, and Resurrection are all bound together, underscoring the Biblical and theological truth: we cannot have one without the others.
My point: if your recent Christmas experience has been less than joyous, it might be that your present is bound to a deeper reality: our need for a crucified King, who births joy. Tinsel and food cannot camouflage that need and His victory. On the other hand, if your recent experience has been joyous, that joy might be the prelude to Lenten struggles and the deeper joy of Resurrection: the appearance not of the magi but of the Risen Son.
Looking to the Light,
Stan
[1]If you will, consider stanza two of: What Child Is This?