Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning. —Psalm 30:5
Read: Isaiah 35:1-10; Luke 2:8-20; John 15:1-11, 16:16-24; Galatians 5:16-25
Here we are. Already in the middle of the Advent season, and I can think of no better or more necessary thing to set our eyes, hearts, and minds upon, than joy.
When we last saw Scrooge, he was sleeping off his exhaustion from the weeping labor of facing his regrets and making peace with all the Ghost of Christmas Past had lain before him. He awoke just as the clock struck one, and he began anticipating every way in which the second Ghost may come. In doing so, he nearly missed the quiet glow of warm, inviting light beckoning him to come and stand fully in Its presence.
I’ve often wondered why Scrooge went toward the light. Why, after his painful experience with the Ghost of Christmas Past, would he subject himself to this continued suffering?
The only answer for it that I can tell, is the power and life in that light.
In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it —John 1:4-5
The Ghost of Christmas Present exudes a light that draws Scrooge ever out of his own darkness and toward the life of its light. As is often said of an encounter with beauty, the Spirit’s presence captivates Scrooge. It moves him toward a state of disinterested wonder. It fills him with awe. And this is just the beginning.
The walls and ceiling were so hung with green, that it looked like a perfect grove, from every part of which, bright gleaming berries glistened. The crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, and ivy reflected back the light as if so many little mirrors had been scattered there; and such a mighty blaze went roaring up the chimney…. Heaped up on the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking-pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth-cakes, and seething bowls of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam. In easy state upon this couch, there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see; who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty’s horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Scrooge, as he came peeping round the door.
The scene is Eden-like, and, like the Ghost itself, overflows with abundance and joy.
The constant appearance of food described and discussed in this, Stave Three, of A Christmas Carol is notable. Dickens could have made any number of Christmas Day traditions the focus of his attention. He chose food. Why?
If you’ve been listening to The Reader & the Writer for any length of time (or if you’ve sat in a class I’ve taught or talk I’ve given), you’ve likely heard me quote this line from Thomas Foster’s book, How to Read Literature like a Professor. In discussing the underlying meanings suggested when meals are described in any work of literature, Foster says: “Sometimes a meal is just a meal, and eating with others is simply eating with others. More often than not, though, it’s not…. whenever people eat or drink together, it’s communion.” (Foster, 7-8)
At the center of the Christmas feasting is the festival itself: Christ coming down and “unioning” himself with us by taking on flesh. “Jesus was God and man in one person,” says George Whitefield, “that God and man might be happy together again.” (quoted from O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, p. 175).
More than union-ing with us through His flesh-and-blood life here on earth, Christ gave himself for us as spiritual nourishment:
Take eat; this is my body…. Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. (Matthew 26:26-28)
I am the bread of life, whoever comes to me shall not hunger and whoever believes in me shall never thirst…. I am the true vine…. Abide in me, and I in you…. Abide in my love…. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full. (John 15:1-11).
Jesus’ body broken and blood shed for us is given to us in the bread and wine of the Eucharist feast. This is the “feast of victory” shared by Christians “in remembrance of Him,” in celebration of what we have in Him, and in anticipation of our final consummation with Him in eternal glory.
With this in mind, could there be a more fitting image, then, than that of the ever-abundant, joy-filled feast?
Consider these words from the Apostle Paul:
In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, 8 which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight 9 making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ 10 as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.
11 In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, 12 so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory. 13 In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, 14 who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory.
15 For this reason… 16 I do not cease to give thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers, 17 that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him, 18 having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, 19 and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might 20 that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, 21 far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come. —Ephesians 1:7-21 (emphasis mine)
The Cratchit family surely grasped this reality, and saw by its light everything meager in their lives as more than enough. Scrooge’s nephew, Fred, also saw by the power of true Christmas Spirit, causing him to well over with deep compassion for his uncle and gentleness in spite of Scrooge’s meanness. All across the earth, the Spirit showed Scrooge scenes of Christmas feasting in the most unlikely of places: a desert moor, desolate lighthouse, a ship out to sea. All these, “for the joy set before them,” (Hebrews 12:2) did not see their present circumstances as hindrances to their true happiness, nor even as their true circumstance. For their eyes were not set on their present sufferings, but rather on the glory revealed to them in Christ (Romans 8:18), as it was revealed to the shepherd that first Christmas day (Luke 2:8-20)
There is one strange and unsettling scene at the end of the Ghost of Christmas Present’s time with Scrooge. From the folds of its robes, the Spirit reveals two children…
wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable. They knelt down at its feet, and clung upon the outside of its garment.
“Oh, Man! look here. Look, look, down here!” exclaimed the Ghost.
They were a boy and girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked; and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.
The boy is named Ignorance, the girl is Want. They are Man’s, says the Spirit, and utterly doomed unless Man take responsibility and do right by them. The Spirit uses these children to teach Scrooge a lesson, speaking his own callous words and attitude back to himself, revealing a horror of spirit that is more horrible than the sight of the children themselves.
Dickens is engaging in a social commentary over educational reform through this unsettling scene. But what I find fascinating, is how Ignorance and Want—maybe more than any other thing—threaten also to rob us of living in real and present joy. Whether it is ignorance in understanding where true joy is found, or the wants of this world that keep our eyes fixed on our idols, these “needy children” will rob us of our joy if we let them. Every. Single. Time.
Beloved, we were made for something better. We were made for communion joy. Come, let us be transformed by the Spirit’s sprinkling waters. And join together with gladness in the Feast.
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.” (Romans 15:13)
For further meditation, exploration, and living into joy:
Re-read Stave Three of A Christmas Carol. What new things do you see? How do you see the fruit of Joy in Christ coming to life through the narrative? Make note of these and journal about them. If you haven’t already, listen to Rhea and I discuss the Ghost of Christmas Present in this episode of the podcast.
Consider the Bible readings for today. Thinking imaginatively: How do you see these being expressed metaphorically in the Ghost of Christmas Present and his time spent with Scrooge?
Look at the illustration above. Use the process of Visio Divina to engage with the picture.
Read poetry: Joy, by Stuart Kestenbaum, and A Response to Psalm 30 by Malcolm Guite. Respond to these through journaling, prayer, rewriting, or writing your own poem on your experience living into joy.
Be Honest. How might Ignorance and Want be keeping you from living in the fullness of Christ’s joy? Confess these to the Lord. Ask the Holy Spirit to guide you in new ways of being complete in His joy.
Shari, I really loved and appreciate the part of this devotion where you speak of ignorance and want stealing our joy. This essay is a beautiful reminder where our true joy should emanate from. Peace be with you, friend.