Have Yourself a Merry Little Advent Four, Year C

“…He has looked with favor on the lowliness of His servant.” (Luke 1:48)

At this festive time of year one turns on the radio to hear the sounds of the season. After two solid weeks of “Frosty the Snowman,” “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” and Sir Paul McCartney’s abysmally monotonous “Wonderful Christmastime,” one might be ready to toss one’s lunch about now.

Still, there are not a few secular Christmas tunes which your Old Religious Guy actually likes to hear. I have a weak spot for Karen Carpenter singing “Merry Christmas, Darling,” and Nat ‘King’ Cole’s version of “The Christmas Song.” But I really get all sentimental and mushy over “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” Granted, it’s not the most sophisticated piece of music ever composed, but it bears a sweet message which veers dangerously close to the Gospel accounts of Our Lord’s birth.

In case you didn’t know, the song was composed for the 1944 MGM musical Meet Me in St. Louis. In the flick, Judy Garland sings this tune to cheer up her younger sister played by child star Margaret O’Brien. The child has learned that her family will be leaving St. Louis to move to New York, and she is hurt and saddened by the loss of her beloved home and friends, as well as disappointed at missing the anticipated World’s Fair. Judy’s character sings this song as tears pour down the little girl’s face.

I like this song because it reminds me that not everything is ever just merry and bright this time of year. I was on the phone the other day with a parishioner who has lost both her mother and husband recently and is facing her first Christmas without them. The pressure to be joyful at the Yule is so often an unspeakable burden to us, and so many people feel lonely, lost, and depressed.

When “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” was recorded as a pop tune, a poignant line was changed. I personally like the original version which went, “…until then, we all will muddle through somehow.” Because that’s what we do in this world—especially at this season—muddle through.

The story of Christ’s birth in the Gospels is not all sweetness and light, and we often forget this in the pressure of the season and our American expectations of what Christmas should be. The Gospel lesson for Advent 4 Year C (Luke 1:39-55) makes beautiful Christmas cards, but it has a painful side to it. Poor Elizabeth, in her culture, would be despised and considered cursed by God because she couldn’t get pregnant (see Luke 1:25). Mary, would be equally despised and possibly stoned to death for conceiving out of wedlock. Both are second-class citizens by virtue of being women. Both are peasants.

And yet, it is their very femininity—their shared knowledge of the mysteries of childbirth—which allows Elizabeth to speak as a prophet and Mary to be the bearer of God. I guess what I so love about this passage is the defiant jubilation these women share. Mary rejoices that the lowly have been lifted up (v. 52), a joy one can only know once one acknowledges that one has been lowly. Neither woman suddenly hits the lottery nor has her life made any easier than it has been. They just know that God loves them and has not forsaken them. They do not forget their hardship, but they sure know how to access joy in the midst of it.

Hey. If I were to tell you that leading a good and virtuous life would bring you only good and virtuous things, I’d be lying to you. Thinking you can influence God (and haven’t I said this before..?) isn’t religion. It’s superstition. The truth is that sometimes things just plain suck. But that doesn’t stop God from choosing us to be the bearers of good news.

So okay. Miss your loved ones. Worry about ISIS and global warming and your job and your whacky kids. Feel a little guilty that you can’t afford to give the gifts or make the charitable donations you really want to. Be lonely and afraid. But remember that God has chosen YOU to carry the Good News.

And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

PS - If you'd like to see the scene From Meet Me in St. Louis in which Judy Garland sings this unforgettable tune, click here.