There are times when comfort is a blessing. The things that make us comfortable make us feel at ease, just like we are home. Just the word conjures images of the comfy chair, classic comfort foods, and the routines that bring peace to our lives. Yet, too much of such comfort leads to unhealthy situations. Often, we need discomfort to move us out of our place of comfort.

I am currently working on my homily for Christmas Eve. I find this is the most difficult message to write every year. It would seem such a classic story would make crafting a sermon an easy task, but it is the comfort most people have with the story that makes it so difficult.

In six days, families will gather in the Sanctuary to sing familiar carols, be moved by the decorations and candlelight, and look to the Scripture and sermon to inspire a deeper meaning to the celebration. Most of the congregation will be looking for a few laughs, touching Christmas stories, and some warm thoughts to carry out into the cold. These are reasonable expectations. Mingle them with biblical stories we know, and it is amazingly easy to craft a superficial, sentimental sermon. People will leave saying, “good sermon,” but I will know otherwise.

At the same time, too much discomfort blocks the Spirit’s message. How do you take what is familiar and traditional, and say something meaningful and relevant? It is challenging, but the effort is worth it. Taking the easy way cheapens the Gospel, and disrespects those who come to celebrate the Savior’s birth.

Pastor, parishioner, or passer-by, it is tempting and easy to get lost in the familiarity of the season’s traditions and miss the message of the one who truly brings comfort. Our hope, peace, joy, and love do not come from decorations or carols, nor are they the result of traditions and memories. Such gifts do not come from special music or pastor’s sermons, they are only found in the one we celebrate in this season. It is in the babe lying in a manger who is the hope of the world. He is our peace. He gives us joy and is the embodiment of love.

This Christmas, we need the comfort that only Christ can bring. The familiar symbols and traditions of the season can point us to him, but they cannot replace him. The brokenness and pain in our lives, our nation, and our world require much more than sentimentality. Wholeness and healing are found in One born as one of us to become our Savior.

Maybe, if we allow the Spirit to invite us into an uncomfortable comfort, we will experience more than we ever imagined as we celebrate this Christmas.