The Presbyterian Older Adult Ministries Network and the Presbyterian Mission Agency’s Office of Christian Formation used the longest night for 2022 on Wednesday to hold a winter solstice and Blue Christmas service online.
Churches small and large and everything in between can celebrate Advent, Christmas Eve and Christmas Day even during a pandemic, so long as they’re willing to innovate — and perhaps simplify.
During the holidays, so many of us can suffer for all kinds of reasons. The magnitude of our weary world weighs on our hearts and minds. We wrestle with chronic pain, broken relationships, shattered dreams, fragile faith, and unexpected losses. Our grief and sorrow feel particularly acute when compared to the festivity and joy everyone else seems to be feeling. More and more churches are acknowledging this fact with “Blue Christmas” services (also called “Longest Night” services) and offering resources to give particular support and comfort to those struggling during the “most wonderful time of the year.”
The closest the Rev. Bethany Peerbolte has come to heartache associated with Mother’s Day was a couple years ago, when her parents moved from Michigan to North Carolina. “I’m like, ‘If that was hard for me, I can’t imagine what the people in my church are going through when they’ve lost a mother or haven’t had a mother figure who’s really been kind and loving to them, like a mother should be.’”
There’s a reason Blue Christmas and Longest Night services have become popular in recent years. They recognize that amid all the shopping and get-togethers, the holidays need tidings of both comfort and joy. Comfort, because loneliness, grief and pain can be especially potent this time of year. Joy, because we need the hope of the gospel.
The holidays have been difficult for Christine Caton ever since her mother died — three days after Christmas. As an only child, with her father already gone, Caton experienced profound grief in losing her mom. The Christmas season only accentuated that grief.
The holidays have been difficult for Christine Caton ever since her mother died — three days after Christmas. As an only child, with her father already gone, Caton experienced profound grief in losing her mom. The Christmas season only accentuated that grief.
The church was festooned with a green wreath above the altar cross and rows of red and white poinsettias. But the lights were dim and the candles were ready, along with small packets of tissues placed strategically in each pew.
