Lucy, the youngest Pevensie, is the first to enter Narnia. There she meets Mr. Tumnus, a gentle faun, who tells her some about this magical world. While Lucy marvels at the animals who speak and the reality of magical creatures, Mr. Tumnus explains to her that all is not well in Narnia. “It is winter in Narnia,” said Mr. Tumnus, “and has been for ever so long…always winter, but never Christmas.”
This long-lasting winter goes on and on. For the creatures of Narnia, always winter means a perpetual state of longing for spring and no end to the season of not-enough. Never Christmas means there is never a celebration of light and love, there is no exchange of joy, no thrill of hope. Narnia is a weary world that longs to rejoice.
There is the faintest rumor that Aslan, the lion king, is on the move, but until that whisper becomes a shout, there is only endless snow, unrelenting darkness, and a worry about having enough for as long as the season will last. The entirety of the "always winter" metaphor is meant to describe what it is like to live in fear, under a curse, without an end in sight.
The reality for most of us, right now, is that even when we are having unseasonably warm weather, we still live in a world that feels like always winter and never Christmas. The news of wars does not end. The reality of cruelty, from one group to another, is inescapable. We know all too well what it means to feel as if there is not enough- not enough money, not enough time, not enough hope.
There is a restful side of winter- the thoughts of seeds and plants preparing underground or within their barest stems, pregnant animals, and quiet stillness before the rush of spring. But like Mr. Tumnus, we’re rarely getting the chance to experience the restorative side. The chaos and frenetic nature of life today means we only get that positive wintering in small bits, rather than a whole season.
Christmas itself easily gets caught up in the frantic worry about deprivation, rather than in the stillness and renewal. Confronted with buying for the holiday by mid-summer, the pressure to take advantage of sales, to do everything, to be cheery, and jolly, and to make perfect memories does not carry the warmth of July into the winter. Instead, this overwhelming tide of commercials and expectations carries winter deprivation into the season of more than enough. Always winter and never Christmas- never ready, never prepared enough, always going to be a letdown.
The frustrating reality of this ongoing metaphor, for this preacher, is that we are not in Narnia. We are not waiting for Aslan to appear. Our lion king has already come! Our wait ended two thousand years ago when a young, affianced woman in Nazareth said "Let it be" to the angel Gabriel. Our longing was met when Joseph laid that tightly swaddled newborn on the clean hay in the manger.
We've been singing, "He comes to make his blessings known, far as the curse is found" for generations. It was likely the chorus that the shepherds hummed to themselves as they returned to their flocks, after seeing the truth of what the angels had told them. We talk about the reason for the season, sometimes forgetting that same Reason is truth for every season- every season of the year, every season of life.
I am not saying that winters of grief and frustration and stress are not real. I am saying, however, that they do not define us. They are not the last word in a world wherein the Word of the Father has appeared in the flesh. A word of love, a word of hope, a word of mercy- Jesus was born to poor parents, in a small town, and his birth announcement went to outsiders- shepherds in the fields and foreign kings from Persia. They were the outsiders of their time, and we receive the same birth announcement in our own time.
For a child has been born for us,
a son given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders,
and he is named
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6)
More than just an earworm from Handel, this is the announcement for our time. Already, in and among us, is One who mediates and brings peace to all, who is greater than any idol to which we give time and treasure, who raises us with justness, mercy, and love.
What would it be like if we who believe in this Christmas miracle lived it all year long? Not in the permanent Santa’s village way, but more in the way of this quote from Albert Camus:
In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.
In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.
In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.
I realized, through it all, that…
In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back. (Albert Camus, The Stranger)
Invincible calm, invincible love, invincible summer. This is the gift of Christmas. As we sing in Hark! The Herald Angels, “Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace! Hail the Sun of Righteousness! Light and life to all He brings, Risen with healing in His wings.” One bright star shines within all of us- the invincible love and tenderness of the One who made us, knows us, and loves us.
Light and life, light and life, light and life. In the midst of the world’s winter, light and life.
And still, we sing. And still, we hope. And still, we rejoice.
We do it today. And in March, and in June, and in September, we are never worried about how many days until Christmas.
Because for us, for the whole world, Christ the Savior is born. He has come. We are not waiting.
And, thus, at the very heart of our human experience with the Divine, it is always Christmas, never winter.
Always Christmas.
Always. Christmas. For everyone. Forever.
Amen.
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