Some Christians who are a little squeamish, do not like the word merry. It is a right good old Saxon word, having the joy of childhood and the mirth of manhood in it, it brings before one’s mind the old song of the waits, and the midnight peal of bells, the holly and the blazing log. I love it for its place in that most tender of all parables, where it is written, that, when the long-lost prodigal returned to his father safe and sound, “They began to be merry.” This is the season when we are expected to be happy; and my heart’s desire is, that in the highest and best sense, you who are believers may be merry.
— C. H. Spurgeon, “The Mother of Jesus: Mary’s Song,” delivered Sunday morning, December 25, 1864 at The Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington. No. 606