Prepare Him Room: Attic (Matthew 2:1-2, 9b-12)

Every now and then I’ll go to the attic to dig out a box of some of that good stuff and just like Clark from Christmas vacation I’ll pour over the memories. And I’ll start to feel a strange feeling. I’ll feel happy. And I’ll feel sad. At the same time. 

It’s the feeling of nostalgia. Nostalgia is powerful—which is why we have so many boxes in the attic. And nostalgia is complicated—which is why we don’t go up there very often. 

Nostalgia is probably why so many people love the Christmas season. Traditions, memories, “things we always do” can feel warm and comforting. And nostalgia is probably why so many people fear the Christmas season. Traditions, memories, “things we used to do”, people we used to see, innocence we used to have, can feel incredibly painful. 

Now, there’s a place for nostalgia, but it has its limits. Looking at an old photo can remind me of a moment, but it can’t recreate the moment. Nostalgia awakens a longing that it cannot satisfy.

We don’t light candles on Christmas Eve simply to maintain tradition. There is beauty in the tradition, meaning in the memories, comfort in the familiar. Echos in the attic. 

We light candles on Christmas Eve because the Spirit of God is a fire that right here, right now, is giving light and life, love and joy, peace and comfort, healing and hope, to the whole world.