Suffering Has a Place at the Table: Recovering an Old Christian Practice for the Holiday Season
The weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas carry a strange tension. We’re surrounded by images of joy, abundance, and celebration — full tables, warm lights, smiling families, and the promise of peace on earth. But for many people, this season also awakens grief, loneliness, fear, financial pressure, fractured relationships, or memories of trauma.
For some, the holidays intensify what is already hard.
And if we’re honest, most modern churches don’t quite know what to do with suffering during a season that’s supposed to feel cheerful. We fear being the “downer” in the room. We worry that acknowledging pain will disrupt the celebration. We wonder if our sadness is a sign of weak faith.
But historically, the church understood something we’ve largely forgotten:
Suffering was never meant to be hidden during the holidays.
Suffering was meant to be held — together.
The Early Church: A Community That Suffered Well
For centuries, Christians were formed to face hardship in community. Their faith was born in persecution, poverty, and uncertainty. Yet what drew outsiders wasn’t that Christians suffered — everyone suffered in the ancient world. What stood out was how they did it:
- They shared resources.
- They cared for widows, orphans, and the sick.
- They buried the dead with dignity.
- They held vigil with those in anguish.
- They prayed, wept, sang, and waited together.
Suffering well wasn’t stoic endurance. It was a communal act of love.
Pain was not privatized. Tears were not shameful. Weakness was not a failure.
This way of being human was compelling — a radically different way to move through a painful world.
A Theology Formed in the Shadows
African American Christianity is one of the clearest examples of how suffering well becomes a powerful witness. Enslaved Africans didn’t come to Christianity because it justified their suffering — they came because they encountered a God who hears the cries of the oppressed, a Christ who bears wounds, and a community that carried one another’s burdens.
They developed a theology of:
- lament
- endurance
- communal strength
- hope beyond present injustice
Their songs, prayers, and gatherings show a faith that faces suffering honestly — and refuses to let suffering have the final word.
This is not sentimental holiday faith.
This is rugged Advent faith — the kind that hopes in the dark.
Why Suffering Belongs in the Holiday Season
The holidays don’t erase our wounds; they often spotlight them.
But suffering does not undermine gratitude or joy. In fact, it can deepen them.
Suffering:
- clarifies what matters
- highlights our dependence on God
- reveals our need for community
- humbles us into compassion
- teaches us how to hope
The truth is, joy without space for suffering becomes shallow.
Gratitude without honesty becomes performance.
One of the most beautiful practices I’ve heard comes from Dr. Dan Allender, who shared on a recent podcast that his Thanksgiving table now includes a simple invitation:
“Before we give thanks, let’s share where we suffered this year.”
Not to dwell on hardship.
Not to compare wounds.
Not to create despair.
But to tell the truth.
Because real gratitude rises from honest soil.
Cheap gratitude requires silence about pain.
Biblical gratitude requires naming it.
Advent Is the Season of Honest Darkness
The weeks after Thanksgiving lead us into Advent — a season that begins not with celebration, but with longing. The world into which Christ was born was filled with oppression, violence, fear, and waiting.
Advent invites us to say:
- “This world is not as it should be.”
- “My life is not as I wish it were.”
- “Yet God is with us — even here.”
When we acknowledge suffering, the lights of Christmas don’t shine less brightly.
They shine more clearly against the dark.
Recovering a Lost Practice
Maybe this year, instead of trying to make everything feel light and effortless, we could reclaim a more ancient rhythm:
- Let the table hold both joy and sorrow.
- Let gratitude rise from the truth, not from pressure.
- Let the community bear one another’s burdens.
- Let Advent remind us that Jesus came into a suffering world, not around it.
We honor God not by pretending we are unhurt, but by bringing our whole selves — wounds included — to the celebration.
A Holiday Prayer
God who enters the ache of the world, teach us to suffer well together.
Help us make room at our tables for those who carry grief and fear.
Give us courage to tell the truth about our own struggles,
and help us discover that gratitude grows deeper in honest soil.
Come close to us in this season of waiting and shine Your light
not in spite of our darkness, but right in the middle of it.
This holiday season, suffering doesn’t need to be explained away.
It needs a seat at the table.
Because that’s where Christ chooses to sit.