Christmas

Always winter and never Christmas. Those are the conditions in the land of Narnia in the opening chapters of C. S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Narnia lies under the spell of the White Witch who keeps Narnia under a blanket of snow and perpetual winter.
 
I never understood what that meant until this Christmas. Maybe never having lived in snow I can’t conceive the cold to the marrow effects of forever frost. Perhaps knowing that the story would have a good ending, I pre-anticipated that Christmas would come and discounted Narnia’s winter as a temporary condition. Perhaps in my many, always recurring, never failing annual experiences of Christmas, I could never fathom a world without Christmas.
 
This Christmas, however, was different. I found myself living in a metaphorical Narnia where I longed for Christmas but somehow wasn’t so sure it would come.
 
Sure, there were ample signs of its coming: sparkling lights, festive trees, wreath, cards, carols, nativity scenes, and ample reminders of how many shopping days until Christmas. But I was not looking for the day, December 25th, which would inescapably come with the turn of a calendar page. I was looking for The Coming, Jesus’s coming
 
It wasn’t the feast of Christmas I needed, but the feel of Christ. Not the fact of Christmas, but the face of Christ. Not the pageantry of camels and magi, stars and stable, shepherds, flocks, frankincense, gold, and myrrh—but the power of God intersecting, interjecting, interrupting and restarting the world with the life of Jesus Christ.
 
No calendar, merchant, newspaper, government official or even religious leader could make that happen.
 
In the spirit of giving, we have made Christmas more about others and less about Christ. Even as Christians, we fall prey to commandeering Christmas into a show for the world, a proclamation of “our” truth, and an extravagant witness to the fact of Jesus. We politicize and, dare I say, betray the Christ Child, portraying him less the prophet and more a puppet manipulated by clumsy, willful, self-interested human hands.
 
With the best intentions, followers of Jesus talk about putting Christ back into Christmas. But it’s not as easy or simple as laying Baby Jesus in the manger of a nativity scene. That’s not our job, just as it wasn’t our job to bring Jesus into the world the first time.
 
We are powerless when it comes to Christmas. Our pocketbook and those who want a piece of it would make us believe different. However, we cannot make Christmas; only God can. It was His from the beginning. We can decorate around it, name it a holy holiday, add a artificial lights, and pile on traditions and expectations—but we cannot bring Christ into the world, not others’ worlds or even our own. We can only invite him in and wait—wait for God to birth him in our lives and transform the barren cold of winter into Christmas.
 
That’s what I waited for this year. I tried to do so without expectation so that God would have His way and not me, mine. And Christ came at God’s appointed time, not just at the ringing of a bell or human passing of time. He turned on the lights once more, reentering my world with new life amid infinite hallelujahs of angels and in glory.
 
 

Come Thou Long Expected Jesus
Come thou long-expected Jesus,
Born to set Thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.
Israel's strength and consolation,
Hope of all the earth Thou art;
Dear Desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart.
 
Born Thy people to deliver,
Born a Child and yet a King.
Born to reign in us for ever,
Now Thy gracious kingdom bring.
 
By Thine own eternal Spirit
Rule in all our hearts alone;
By Thine all-sufficient merit
Raise us to Thy glorious throne.

Posted via email from 40 Day Fast