For many, the Christmas season is full of cheer, but for some, the holidays are a reminder of painful loss.
For those people, the Cathedral Church of St. Luke offered a Blue Christmas service, an intimate candlelit service last Thursday evening.
The Rev. Patricia Orlando is canon priest for spiritual formation and pastoral care at this Episcopal church in downtown Orlando. She started the annual service. Before Orlando was ordained as a priest, she worked as a hospice chaplain.
It was there that she realized she had a passion to help people who are grieving. Orlando said she helped a young woman whose father was her patient at hospice. She said the woman did not handle the idea of losing her father well.
"That was something that made me understand that we don't do grief well in our culture," Orlando said. "We had somebody say, 'What do you do? What do you say to somebody? What advice do you give?' And I go, you don't give them advice. If they're your friend, go be with them. They won't ask you to be with them. Go be with them."
For the past three years, Orlando has coordinated this somber service as a reminder that it's OK to grieve. Recalling the hardships of the nativity story, she says Jesus walks with people through their pain.
While people may picture the meaning behind Christmas, the birth of Christ, as beautiful and peaceful, Orlando said that sometimes people forget some of the hardships behind the story. From not having a matriarch at the birth to not having a place at the inn, Orlando said the Christmas story isn't as glamorous as it's sometimes made out to be.
"This Christmas story isn't found in the splendor of a cathedral, the sparkle of a busy mall or even the warmth of a home with a fireplace burning, family gathered at Christmas, pajamas, drinking cocoa in the glow of a lighted tree with wrapped presents under it," Orlando said. "No, this Christmas is found in the depths of our grief, pain and heartache, in our yearning to be free of disappointment, sorrow and despair."
During the service, as four blue candles were lit, participants read messages of faith and resilience. Later, everyone received a card to write their pain and prayers on. In the courtyard after the service, Orlando and a deacon prayed over every card and put them one by one into a small firepit.
"I take that, all of the hurt and the pain and the injustice, because that's what it is, and I just lift it up," Orlando said. "He says his burden is light, and I say here it is. Here's all of your people.… I know that God cries. He's crying with us. He's not doing this. He doesn't look away. He doesn't shun it. He's right there with us."
Journeying through grief
Parishioner Carl Kerner lost his mother in 2022 and, shortly afterward, in the midst of his grief his beloved golden retriever died.
"All of a sudden, the house is just empty," Kerner said. "Everyone's gone, and the entire world just has vanished. For me, I have lots of great friends. I know so many wonderful people, but my family is gone, and it was the most difficult thing, and still to this day, is the most difficult thing I ever lived through."
Kerner would wake up in the night screaming. He said his pain overtook him, and some days he would just lie on the floor, unable to move. Finally, Kerner said he went to the cathedral one Sunday afternoon seeking counseling and comfort.
Kerner said Orlando's kindness, understanding and peaceful presence t helped him find hope. Later on, he played the violin in the cathedral's very first Blue Christmas service.
This year, Kerner played a special song for his mother.
"The service is always very uplifting and illuminating to me, and it means a lot to me to be able to share with the people in the congregation," Kerner said. "But the communion piece, there was intent behind that, the Ave Maria, and that was my lullaby to my mother."
Kerner said he is forever thankful for the cathedral and Orlando for helping him in his time of grief, and for inspiring him to later help others.
"I became a lay Eucharistic visitor shortly after I joined here, so I've had the opportunity to go and visit several of our parishioners," Kerner said. "It just means the world to me to be able to take this pain and redirect it and use it to make somebody smile."
Among the parishioners, Angela Griner grieved for her brother, who died of a drug overdose, and her parents, who she lost during the pandemic.
Finding joy amid the pain
"I know when I grieve, when I cry, I know I'm making room for joy," Griner said. "I feel like a lot of people are frightened of their grief. I have found that when I am gentle with myself, with it, the more I dig into the grief, the more I heal."
Griner sang and played piano for the Blue Christmas service. She said grief is like an alchemy, and from pain, light can come in to take its place. She conveyed that alchemy in a song she wrote called "Bless the Light," that was performed during the service.
"You wouldn't have this incredible thing, had it not been for what the loss did, and when you let it break you open, it's incredible," Griner said. "Like the song said, the light comes in."
Griner said that "oddly enough" she looks forward to the Blue Christmas service. It's an experience of both grief and joy.
"I'll make cookies this weekend with my boys," Griner said. "I'm watching a silly movie with some friends. So, I've got joy, you know, and grief. I might wallow in bed for a day or two at some point during this Christmas holiday, and I'll get up and do something joyful, too."
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