TLDR: The lines of John Lennon’s Christmas jingle, “So this is Christmas” sound both menacing and threatening at the same time. Please read on for more.
The lines of John Lennon’s Christmas jingle, “So this is Christmas” sound both menacing and threatening at the same time. The menace comes from the fact that I always feel somewhat judged by the song, “So this is Christmas and what have you done?” I always think, “Oh, God. Lennon is right, what have I done this year?” to which the silent voice in the back of my mind responds, “Not much! You’ve wasted another perfectly good year.” I know this voice very well. This is the voice of judgement telling me that I will never measure up, I am not good enough, holy enough, prayerful enough, patient enough…” If you were to be completely honest, I bet you have this voice as well. Mine is a bit sarcastic and irreverent, yours may be more punishing and filled with shame, someone else’s may be sharply focused on their deficits and failures, and somebody else’s is probably more accepting and willing to provide all sorts of rationalizations for their failures.
“So, this is Christmas, I hope you have fun.” I always ask, “Are you mocking me, Lennon? Are you saying that ‘fun’ and the pursuit of ‘fun’ has displaced the Christmas season’s invitation to experience deep joy?” Why not say, “I hope you discover deep and abounding joy and peace? Why hope for something so ephemeral, so transitory as fun, when what we need is rejoicing that Messiah has come?” I don’t want just fun, whatever that may mean for Lennon, and the rest of us. I want peace, justice, hope, a God-filled life, the ability to fulfill promises I have made, a heart orientated towards love and service. I want to rest in the Lord and to accept a simple reality: I am still under construction and God is not done with me yet. And because of this, I deserve to give myself some grace. I deserve to take a breath to quiet the voices that call for perfectionism and are not content with anything less than absolute perfection. I deserve to let God be God.
Here is the threatening phrase, “A very merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, let’s hope it’s a good one without any fear.” This is a song subtitled, “The war is over,” but although whatever war the author is talking about is over, it still makes an appearance at the end, reminding us that fear is a part of life and there are many things and situations that wage war against us, filling our hearts with fear. Perhaps the fear mentioned is the return of war, but perhaps it goes deeper than that. Perhaps it is an allusion to the wars declared by our brain against us every day. Perhaps it is an acknowledgement that our worse enemy can always be found behind our eyes.
I don’t have the brilliance or lyricism of Lennon, but I wish I could add a verse or two: “So, this is Christmas, and nothing must be done, for God is among us and we are safe in his hands. So, this is Christmas and joy richly abounds, for Emmanuel is among us and we live on holly ground.” In either case, I pray that you transcend the judgement of the question, “What have you done?” and the threat of the final statement, “Let’s hope it is a good year without any fear.” It is Christmas and we are reminded one more time how much God has loved us. We are his beloved children, and God wants our lives to be overflowing with joy and peace.
Give yourself a break this Christmas. Reconnect with your sources of joy. God is not done with you yet, but he is infinitely patient.
May our Lord continue to bless you,
Fr. Roman+
