Let Nothing You Dismay

The death of a family member in and around the holiday season may accentuate the sense of loss that families feel. But the death may occur at any time of the year and change our experience of the holiday season. In some ways, we miss our departed loved ones most on these special days.

This year the sense of loss is very personal. It will be my first Christmas without my father who died December 2.

Many of us grew up celebrating Christmas with rich family traditions and wonderful meals together. We cherish vivid memories of father bringing in the Christmas tree and mother preparing the meal. We left milk and cookies on the fireplace Christmas Eve, woke up early, ran to the Christmas tree, and there discovered the gifts that Santa Claus left us overnight.

Christmas is all about the children, and the kids know it—and love it. Parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles, turn their attention to creating pure delight one magical morning.

The gifts were unwrapped each Christmas morning at the Crosby house in a storm of flying paper and bows, squeals and shouts. All mysteries were uncovered in 15 minutes, and the rest of the morning was a leisurely float through the package debris sporting new outfits and playing with the coveted gifts that topped the list.

Hence the giant hole that the death of a dear one creates in the family at Christmas. Their chair is vacant, their role unfilled. I will never again see my father at the family Christmas gathering, and the thought of it makes me sad.

I know this is not a loss for which I will find a substitute. I must now adjust my expectations of the holiday season. However, I want my words and deeds to foster peace and faith within the family, and I intend to fiercely protect and preserve for younger family members the surprise, delight and joy of Christmas.

An old man named Simeon is part of the Christmas story though he shows up eight days after the birth of the babe in the stable. He expressed to Mary and Joseph a perspective on death that ought to be considered by every grieving heart at Christmas. Simeon took that tiny infant in his arms and said, “Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace” (Luke 2:29).

The benevolent attention of God is a central truth of Christmas. Our Creator watches over us with tender care. He intervenes on our behalf. He intends to do us good, not harm. This perspective makes the comfort and cheer of Christmas possible. Simeon expresses it by addressing God as “Sovereign Lord.”

Simeon’s hands are wrinkled and spotted with age as he holds the infant. He knows that his own death is near. That is fine with him now. He is ready to be dismissed. He has worked like a soldier at his post. He has been faithful and attentive. He has endured the hardships that life inevitably brings. He is at peace with his impending departure.

This reminds me of my father, so full of faith and song, ready to be dismissed, living in the promise. We sang to him as he was dying. For hours we gathered around the bed, mother lying by his side. We sang to Dad because he was the one who taught us to sing, to embrace life as God’s good gift.

“Peace on earth,” the angels sang at the Christmas birth announcement in the fields of Bethlehem. It is not a pipe dream, this peace. It can prevail in the believing heart that embraces the goodness of God even in the process of dying. Simeon was ready be dismissed in peace by the God who announces peace to the world at Christmas and creates that peace day by day and year by year as we learn to trust him in both the wins and the losses, the good times and the bad.

Death at Christmas is like everything else at Christmas. It is bathed in the light of God’s grace and set in the context of his promise. “All is calm, all is bright.”