The lights are up, the jingles are playing on the radio, and the chill is settled in… but you are not feeling the ‘Christmas Spirit.’ This is a time of year when we hope for joy as we celebrate our faith and the birth of Jesus, yet this is a notoriously difficult time as well. Our days are shorter and darker, the end of the year approaches, and it is filled with reminders about our losses and what is missing from our celebrations. It’s the time of year for tabooed grief, grief that feels unmentionable or invalid. Whether it is from the death of a loved one, a divorce, fallout in a relationship, job loss, or distance from family, you may not feel as though you can express or experience these sorrows around Christmas festivities.
This past January, my family lost our beloved grandmother, Ray, and this holiday season has been full of quiet tears. For the first time, we will not see her red truck and cardinal Christmas decorations around our gatherings, but more notably, we will not see her. So many of us have felt like we had to muscle our way through the holiday season while deeply feeling the absence of someone or something. As a Catholic, you may feel the pressure to celebrate and be a joyful disciple. Everywhere you turn, there is a little manger that reminds us of Christ’s humble and redeeming birth. But then comes the guilt, shame, or even anger, when you do not feel that joy and triumph. “If only I had stronger faith, I wouldn’t still feel like this.” “I must be doing something wrong.” “A good Catholic wouldn’t be so crippled by this depression.”
We have such a tendency to feel like failures when we experience negative emotions, or cannot find it in ourselves to get back on our feet quickly. And on the other hand, we may want so badly to not feel the discomfort or pain, that we push it down and away and out of sight. But God has never asked us to be emotionless, and Jesus Himself offered us His perfect example of how human and beautiful it is to feel and to grieve.
When His dear friend Lazarus died, Jesus mourned and cried over him, even knowing that he would be resurrected that day, by His own hands. “Jesus wept… see how He loved him.” (John 11:35-36) Belief and hope in heaven and the resurrection do not exempt us from feeling loss. I’ve heard that “grief is love with nowhere to go,” and as I reflect on all of the people who I have loved and lost, this feels deeply true. If Christ Himself fell down in sorrow, we do not have to somehow be stronger than that. “There is an appointed time for everything... a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.” (Ecc 3: 1, 4) When grief wells up in you, it is your love with nowhere to go. Give yourself time to weep and mourn, and give your love a safe place to land.
Now, death is not the only grief that weighs heavily at this time of year. Many people are experiencing their first Christmas after divorce, or a broken relationship with family or friends, or with being far away from home and belonging. Maybe you have recently retired or experienced job loss and are grasping for purpose and direction. Maybe you have been betrayed. You are not alone, and even this less-recognized grief is real and experienced by the One who knows you better than anyone. I can’t imagine that Jesus felt no hurt, anger, or deep suffering by the betrayal of Judas, or by Peter’s denial. You may not feel safe or comfortable discussing divorce and other hushed topics, for fear of judgment or misunderstanding. However, Jesus’ treatment of the woman at the well tells us all we need to know about how He feels about us, despite how anyone else does. He reveals Himself to the woman more deeply than He had to many who knew Him best, and offered her hope and love. If you are struggling with the pain of something you feel you cannot discuss, you are not failing, you are not a bad Catholic, you are human and beloved.
So, what to do with this grief and pain? I have to remind myself often that my suffering does not have to be in vain or meaningless. What better way to feel close to Jesus, than to unite my suffering with His. On the cross, He felt all the pain and human emotion of the world, and He hung there alone. You may feel alone this Christmas, but you are in fact closer to Jesus than you could ever know. Your pain does not make you a failure, it is a reminder of the impact of love. If you cannot enter into the Christmas Spirit this year, know that this has no bearing on how faithful or what kind of disciple you are. We are guaranteed to suffer in this world, but that is not the end. “There is a time… to heal” (Ecc 3:3). -- Shelby Ellis is a Mental Health Therapist at a behavioral health therapy practice. She grew up in and lives in Thibodaux, where she attends St. Genevieve Church.