The Transforming Power of Christmas

Of all the holiest of seasons we celebrate as believers, the days of Advent and Christmas are my favorite. I love the anticipation that builds in the quiet of cold evenings when the ground has gone to sleep and we brace for the winter ahead. I cherish the beauty, the joy, the peace, and the good will that seem to shine just a little brighter, even in a time such as this when we have been so divided culturally, politically, and spiritually. I suppose I should be more cynical about the wrong in the world – the anger and the polarization, the greed that drives corporations, the commercialism that overtakes consumers, and the evil and selfishness and fear that bring opposition and isolation – but I find that the mystery of the Incarnation helps to take all that away. Despite the struggles and the striving of life, the seasons of Advent and Christmas bring with them a wonderful power to transform who we are and how we see ourselves within the story of salvation.

I know that for many people, this hour at the close of the year can be a lonely time, a reminder of the losses and unfulfilled dreams that scream silently into a world filled with the hustle and bustle of gift shopping, holiday parties, family reunions, and a whole host of traditions that continue despite the pain so many suffer in solitude. There are those who may feel that the bulk of humanity is oblivious to their suffering, too caught up in the struggle of day-to-day living and the quest to find meaning in this insane world to stop and care. I confess that I’ve done my share of silent screaming and had my fill of sorrowful Christmases: the time my father was out of work and we had no money for presents, the year my mother died a couple weeks before the holiday and just days after holding my newborn son, and the somber, lonely evenings when I looked back on my life and mourned the successes that never were.
 
Hope and the Incarnation
 
The wonderful truth, however, is simply that the story need not end there. I’ve learned a secret that is so wild and wondrous, so potent and powerful, that it has caused me to see those failings and follies and sad goodbyes with new eyes. It speaks to me in the music of Christmas, in the sparkle of the ornaments on the tree, and in the warmth of family and friends gathered around the hearth during those desolate days of Advent and those glorious days of Christmas. It’s the secret that lies in what Linus said to Charlie Brown at the end of that famous cartoon, in the wisdom that Kris Kringle shared with all those who came to visit him on 34th Street, and in the passion that moved a young boy to pursue with all the fervor in his being the prize of “an official Red Ryder Carbine-Action 200-shot Range Model Air Rifle” for a Christmas present. 

That wide-eyed childlike, hopeful excitement is what this season is all about; and it’s all possible because of one thing. Christmas is a time when we remember –  indeed when we relive – the birth of the little baby in Bethlehem, when we come face to face with the awesome reality that the God of the universe chose to lower himself down into this broken world and become one of us, all the while remaining ever who He is as God! His coming was pure hope for a weary world, a light in the darkness that could never be extinguished. I have come to see that powerful truth in everything that grace has transformed in my life, especially those cherished traditions and meaningful memories that flood my mind as I prepare for the coming of Christ. In all those beautiful little treasures I experience at Christmas time – the sacred readings, the holiday decorations, the times spent staring at the tree while sitting by the fire – I am carried beyond my own weary world as I walk the road of salvation that has unfolded before me from the beginning with a new set of spiritual eyes.

In the stories from the Scriptures, I see the fall of humanity, and the journey from the Garden to the wilderness, the glorious days of the Kingdom to the lonely days of exile, and the hope of restoration that is fulfilled in the Incarnation and the cross, The readings of the Advent season speak to my restless heart and remind me that like Israel, I too am traveling a journey from sin to salvation, through the wilderness of my own searching heart, spurred on by the restorative grace that lifts me to the light of the resurrection. In the mystery of the Incarnation, I can know that the stories of all believers are unfolding as we are caught up in the mystery of redemption that spills out into creation, leading us to our second birth.

When I look at the Christmas tree, I don’t just see tinsel and lights and shiny ornaments. I see lives lived to the fullest, days of triumph and tragedy, and moments of growth and gratitude. Each ornament carries with it a special meaning, a memory from the time it was received and first placed on the tree. There is love in each Popsicle stick and pipe cleaner, laughter in every keepsake from a family vacation. What great joy there is each time we hang them on the tree; for how can I not rejoice in holding each precious memory in the palm of my hand and then placing it in a prominent place where all who see it can wonder and reflect along with me. When I sit by the fire, looking at the tree shining in the corner of my dimly-lit living room, those memories and grace that kisses them come flooding once more into my soul, reminding me that, in good times and bad, it has all been about a journey that, while uniquely mine, is intricately woven into the fabric of humanity’s journey of redemption. There is great wonder in that.
 
A Frame of Mind and Spirit
 
Each year, I watch my favorite old Christmas movies, considered nostalgic and overly sentimental by today’s standards. Perhaps they are merely a glimpse into the “good old days” that never actually were, except in the world of cinema. But there is a universal certainty in those stories – a timeless truth that speaks to my heart in that immovable and eternal place that only God can touch. It is summed up in the words of Kris Kringle in Miracle on 34th Street: “Christmas isn’t just a day…Christmas is a frame of mind!” It is a sweet, eternal story that has played itself out on the stage of this broken world, calling us all to a deeper appreciation of what it means to be saved and set free. Those cinematic journeys – and our journey as believers from the Garden to Gethsemane and beyond stir within me a longing to know more and more the One who has walk this world and shown us the way to true and lasting peace.

Many Christians like to focus on Easter, the resurrection, our redemption, and all that this means for us. But I love Advent and Christmas. This season is all about the Incarnation: God putting on skin and living, breathing, loving, and dying for us. Christmas is sign! Christmas is Sacrament! I know that can sound like a strange word to some, but to me, everything about Christianity is Incarnational and sacramental – a holy, living sign, something you can taste and see and hold and believe! The idea that God came as a helpless baby to be born of a woman, born under the law, to deliver us from the law is truly astounding. 

I sometimes wonder if there are Christians who would be happier if the Incarnation never really happened, if we just had Jesus appearing and dying for our sins and that was it. I like the thought of my God crying in the cold of a damp and dreary stable, walking the dusty roads of the wilderness, perspiring in the desert when He was tempted, and sweating blood for my sins in the Garden before He died. To imagine Him touching a leper or a dead young child and bringing each of them new life, to reflect on His making water into wine as a sign of His becoming broken bread and poured out wine for us, or to see Him casting out the hosts of hell and calming a storm to a whisper – those are the things that stir my soul and take me to a holy and happy place where the eternal love of God and the perpetual Christmas perspective lives and breathes in me!
 
Our Fragile Hearts, His Timeless Power
 
I have some beautiful and sad Christmas music that I listen to every year while I sit by the fire to watch the shining tree with my cup of Earl Grey Tea and my plate of pumpernickel and cheese. I like being a little sad at this time because it causes me to take stock of my life: the things I’ve lost and the things I’ve gained, those terrible faults in my Christian character that Christ continues to transform, the children who have grown up all too quickly around me, and the wife who for some wonderful reason has chosen to love me still. That feeling is really bittersweet; for the sadness of past remembrances gone by is made holy and new in the joy of each moment that is carrying me forward to wonderful days ahead. In that dreamy, joyful melancholy, I come to touch what the human condition is all about – a fragile, vaporous thing, something that must give way to the One who turns all our tomorrows into a single moment of timeless wonder in His everlasting presence, not only at Christmas, but in every moment of my life.

This Advent, this Christmas, as you bring out the old and consider the new, take time to remember that this season means so much more than we can every truly grasp. Take hold of the reality of the Incarnation and all that it means to us as believers in Christ. As you celebrate the glimpses of grace that the Savior will give you as you slow down and reflect on the awesome reality of God becoming man, may the sorrows and joys, the memories and the moments of insight, carry you along on your journey and spill out into the lives of those around you. May the power and presence of the baby of Bethlehem renew your spirit and lead you to a greater understanding of your place in redemption’s story. Have a blessed Advent and a Merry Christmas!