The Ghostly Light of Grace
By Anthony Casperson
11-29-25

While there have been innumerable renditions of the holiday classic “A Christmas Carol,” my favorite has got to be the Muppet version. It’s typically the only Christmas-related thing I enjoy this close to Thanksgiving. Everything else can wait a couple of weeks, as far as I’m concerned.

(And no, that doesn’t make me a Scrooge. Keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.)

The nice thing for me about this version is that there’s a part, unique to its telling, that fits well into the Psalm that we’ll cover for our current blog series. Although to be fair, there’s a part of the original story that also fits the same thought, but it is often disregarded in the various re-tellings.

Over halfway through the film, things get dark. The music creeps its eerie melody. Gonzo—who is the narrator “Charles Dickens”—and Rizzo the Rat start shaking. They say that since things were getting a little bit spooky, they were going to leave for a while. They’d be back in the finale, after this dark section of the film. Rizzo even mentions how dark this is for a kids’ film.

Few would consider the ideas of spooky haunting and Christmas to join together. Sure, there are the Nightmare Before Christmas people. And even Dickens’s writing includes Marley exiting through a window, which Scrooge then looked out of and witnesses other lamenting dead wandering the streets with the chains they’d forged in life. But the ghostly and the light of Christmas remain as near opposites in most people’s minds.

It’s like we’re afraid of admitting that God can use his light and the darkness of the world to tell a beautiful story of redemption. Afraid to realize that this is exactly what he has done—and continues to do.

Last week, I introduced this blog series in the book of Psalms where we’re delving into the real emotions of depression, anxiety, and the like. Since this season between Thanksgiving and Christmas often witnesses an increase of these emotions, I have decided to bring this topic to the fore in the blogs over these weeks.

During the season where we remember the first coming of the Light of the world, we’re not going to ignore the darkness in which many live. Those who walk among us as the haunted won’t be forgotten as we remember the salvation our God offers.

David writes of feeling as if there is terror on every side, even as he cries out for salvation—for the steadfast love of the Lord—in Psalm 31.

And we could say much concerning the first eight verses, with their reference to the refuge that the faithful redeemer God is. Or even could speak some about the last six verses, with their image of the Lord’s people being sheltered by the city walls of God’s steadfast love. It’s those verses between where we’ll focus. Verses 9-18.

David starts this section of the song with a plea for the grace of God. He needs it because he is in distress. The world has pressed in on him from every side. He can’t take it anymore. Something needs to change.

His eyes have wasted away for all of the tears he’s cried. It’s like he’s run out of them. Met his quota for the rest of his life. And the rest of him follows right after—body and soul. He’s spent. Sorrow has spent his life. Every breath is a sigh of distress.

Is anybody else feeling this right now? Has this season of giving left us in need of being given a break? A rest from the sorrow that this time of the year unfortunately often brings to many? Do you also cry out to God for grace, while feeling like a desiccated husk of a person?

The good news is that God is willing to give us grace in these times. That’s part of the reason why verses 9-18 are in the middle of the other sections that speak of God being our refuge and protection through his unending covenantal love. He’s ready to give us grace when the world presses in on us from every side.

And even verses 14-18 speak to the truth of God’s steadfast love. We can trust in him, because he’s bigger than our problems. Our life is in his hands, even while its difficulties wish to take hold of us.

His face will shine upon us. The Light of the world shining into our distressing darkness. We will not be put to shame when we trust in him.

And this is true, despite the shame that others try to place upon us. People who are both enemies and supposed allies. Surrounded on all sides, we find mistreatment from others far too often.

Verses 11-13 speak of the dismissive and unwanted nature of other people’s reaction to those of us who have felt like life has pressed in on us. They treat us like we are those husks of life. Like we’re ghosts to be ignored or run away from. Like we’re too spooky for the season of light and life.

Those who are the enemies of the cross scoff at our sighs, as if we are nothing but haunting moans that can be easily explained away. But worse, those who are our fellow residents of the kingdom see us and run in fear. We are a thing of dread to them.

Like Gonzo and Rizzo, they flee at the first sign of darkness and the sound of a minor key.

The actions of these people make us believe that our life actually has been squeezed out of us. Almost makes us wonder if we’re too far from God’s grace to receive it. We think we’re too far dead already. Our clay vessel has been irreparably shattered. The crushing of terror on every side has broken us beyond fixing.

But this is a lie.

One told by people too afraid to admit that God can use his light and the darkness of the world to tell a beautiful story of redemption. People so blinded by their self-perceptions of his light to witness the truth of the cross that brings redemption.

Arms spread wide in love, even as they are nailed to a beam of wood.

It is through death that Jesus brought life to the world. And it is in our darkness that God’s light shines all the brighter.

So let’s not ignore or fear the hauntingly spooky parts of this life. Let’s not hold in contempt those who feel hard-pressed this season. Let’s not flee in terror and dread from those whose eyes have run out of tears. Let’s not treat them as ghosts that can be left out of the story.

Instead, let’s treat them like God does. With grace. With steadfast love. With deliverance. And with arms wide open to hear and heal and help.

If you’re already feeling the depression and anxiety of the season pressing in on you, turn to God. Seek his grace. He’s faithfully there, ready to redeem and protect. Commit your spirit to the walls of his steadfast love.

And if you’re blessed enough to not struggle with these sorrowful moments for these few weeks, take your cue from God. Let the ghostly light of grace fill the space between you and those who feel hard-pressed. Rather than run away at the first sound of eerie music, be there with grace for those who need it.

Stay around for this incredibly important part of the story.