"Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home)" and the Season of Advent

 

"The snow's coming down. I'm watching it fall. Lots of people around, Baby, please come home."

We've all heard the song. We all love it. Darlene Love's perennial Christmas smash hit has been decking through the halls of homes across the world for the last 57 years since its original recording. The song tells the story of someone who is lonesome during a time where friends and loved ones stay together. Love's strong emotional plea of "please come home" ringing throughout the song might go unnoticed by the joyful combination of the choir of background vocals, crashing drums, and jazzy saxophone solo, but in the era of COVID-19, our world has been particularly acute to the thought of going about the holiday season alone.

At the time of this writing, over 75 million people have contracted Coronavirus and nearly 1.7 million people have died from the dreadful disease. Polarized politics, cable news, and social media juggernauts have pinned the nation against itself. Millions of people have deemed the virus a hoax, while others have voluntarily locked themselves up at home since March. Local economies have crashed, hospitals have been overwhelmed, and funeral homes can't seem to slow down. 

We all echo Love's emotional sentiment a little bit more this year. The original intent might have resonated with a lost lover, but in the years following, interpretations have spanned the spectrum. In the 1970s during the Vietnam War, millions of homes were left to celebrate the holiday season without fathers, grandfathers, and sons. At the dawn of the 21st Century, the war in the Middle East tore hearts apart with year-long deployments leaving Christmas trees a little less crowded. But now, with isolated medical professionals, locked-up retirement homes, and deceased loved ones, we all say "please come home" this Christmas. 

But as the saying goes, good things come to those who wait. While we can't wait to get back to the packed-out blockbuster movies, relaxing beach vacations, and earth-shattering concerts we anxiously awaited this time last year, there have been great moments of learning. There have been new skills, new friends, and new memories all developed over the course of the year. This holiday season could bring new traditions that last for decades. We're all zoomed out and desperate for the mask-less and not-so-socially-distant embrace with our friends and family. With the vaccine rolling out, the future looks brighter. The light seems to be at the end of the tunnel. 

Yet, in times of isolation, we're... divided? During the "most wonderful time of the year," it's actually been the most divisive time of the century? Scrolling and staring at our phones has produced more inward strife than I could ever remember. As Love ironically proclaims, they're singing Deck the Halls, but it's not like Christmas at all, but instead of it coming at the cost of not having that special someone next to you as the song intends, it has come from the seeds of separation that we've sewed ourselves.

"If there was a way I'd hold back this tear but it's Christmas Day please please please please, Baby, please come home."

We can all agree that this year has not gone on as planned. I remember sitting at Mercedes Benz Stadium listening to John Piper on the morning of January 1st excited for what 2020 was going to offer. Every year brings new opportunities and promise. We all share similar excitement when we turn our calendars, but this year brought emotional burdens, worries, fears, and tribulations. We don't always get what we want, and as the year went on, our priorities began to realign.

Now more than ever, in the height of good tidings and great joy, the church must extend the helping hand to turn off the news, put on the masks, and disregard the cultural divides. While some church buildings are closed, the body of Christ remains open. The souls of wandering prodigals are still searching for a place to call home. Instead of legalistic shaming, the church should lend the helping hand and bring people into the fold with open arms, allowing the power of the gospel take root in their lives. Can't we all shout to our lost brothers and sisters, "Please come home," not out of fear but out of genuine, Christ-like love?

The season of Advent is a time to forget the troubles of the world and look to the Incarnation and rest in the truth that God is truly with us. The ministry of Christ reconciling God and man on our behalf should not be set aside due to the ruins of a lost year. This is a time of tremendous joy because in the midst of pain, strife, and struggle, Christ died for us.

We have reason to be both sorrowful and thankful this year, and it gives us more reason to look for the future glory when all will pass away. No more tears. No more pain. That is a message we can preach until that day comes when, in the presence and glory of our King, we run into his outstretched arms as he says, "Please come home."