One hundred, seventy-four years ago, a novella by Charles Dickens with the title A Christmas Carol. In Prose. Being a Ghost Story of Christmas. was published and Christmas as we know it was both invented and driven into a ditch.
Coupled with Thomas Nast’s 1862 caricature of Santa Clause as we know him, the imagery of a Victorian Christmas described by Dickens is immediately recognizable to us with its decorations, wrapped gifts, Christmas carolers, family gathered around the fireplace, Christmas parties, a large roasted bird on the dining room table, figgy pudding, and, last and hopefully least, a grumpy old Christmas curmudgeon. This so-called Dickensian Christmas is a cultural touchstone for most of us and beloved enough that it is the pattern we use for our own observances of the time between Thanksgiving and New Years Eve. While we may freshen it up a bit by replacing the prize Christmas goose with a spiral-sliced ham, tray of lasagna, a turducken, or tofurkey, and gather the family in front of the TV for Christmas parades and football, much of what we think of as a “traditional Christmas” comes right out of A Christmas Carol. For a culture that has experienced monumental and rapid changes since A Christmas Carol was first published, it is ironic that we insist on living within the heartwarming nostalgia of Dickens’ Christmas each year. We can’t (or won’t) drive Christmas out of the ditch.
Although most of what we think of as Christmas tradition in our culture is secular, the church is not immune from the desire to revisit tradition each year. Indeed, there are two ways for a pastor to alienate a congregation and end his career: the first is by having an extramarital affair with someone else in the church, and the second is to mess with Christmas, especially where Christmas carols are concerned.
But Christmas brings with it an enormous paradox that centers on the one person who hasn’t been mentioned yet—the center of the Christmas story, the “reason for the season”, the “babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger”, the little guy we sometimes have trouble finding when we set up the manger scene—Jesus Christ. As we celebrate Christmas amidst the trappings and traditions that take us back to Dickens, we might forget that the birth of Jesus changed everything. The moment God, in the second person of the Trinity, “became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14), the world became a different place, same-old, same-old religious traditions changed, and the very nature of creation was altered, all because God became a part of it in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. No longer was God far off in heaven or hidden within the temple’s Holy of Holies. No longer was God, the Divine Other. From the moment Jesus was born, God was with us in the most intimate way, participating in our humanity, knowing our sufferings, and joining in our joys. In Jesus the child, youth, and adult, God knows us, empathizes with us, stands with us, and befriends us. There is nothing about being us that God does not know from the inside out. When we pray out our anxiety, God knows what we feel. When we offer up our gladness, God knows our celebration. When we suffer heartbreaking loss, God knows our pain. And from the inside out, God in Jesus changed what it meant to be human in relationship with other humans. Instead of issuing commands from his thrown in heaven that we ought to “proclaim good news to the poor,” lift up the lowly, welcome in the outcast, and care for “the least of these brothers and sisters,” and do unto others as we would have them do unto us, God in Jesus walked among us and did these things, leading us by example and teaching us what love looks like when it’s lived out every day.
So, what do we do with Christmas this year?
Go ahead—trim the tree, wrap the presents and give them away, sing our favorite Christmas carols (and maybe learn a few new ones), gather the family around the fireplace, . . . watch one of the many versions of A Christmas Carol (my favorite is the 1941 version with Alistair Sim). There’s nothing wrong with beloved tradition. And we could all use a party this year! But also embrace the paradox and remember that Jesus changed and changes everything, so that even from within the hallowed traditions of Christmas we want to experience once again, we work with Jesus to transform our world. Reach out to bring good news to persons in need through generosity. Offer the gift of self to redeem and reconcile a relationship that has been on the rocks. Brighten the lives of others who are lonely with a call or visit. Ask God what you can do to make things better and do it. And if Christmas is a difficult time, remember that God knows something of how you feel through Jesus. Let him help.
May you and those you love be blessed by the God who has come among us this Christmas. . . Have a Merry Christmas!