Christmas Day

I read an article yesterday morning that cited a statistic that – although it left me shaking my head – didn’t really surprise me at all. Turns out that 38% of parents in the United States teach their children to believe in Santa, while only 28% of them tell their children the biblical story of the birth of Jesus at this time of year. Like I said, it didn’t really surprise me; statistics in Canada are probably the same.

There’s a certain unfair competition with Santa, isn’t there? For starters, Santa’s got pull with the most influential group of voters – those under four feet high. Santa’s Christmas is about getting what you want, being able to gorge on chocolate and all those naughty foods that mom and dad won’t let you have but that Grandma always seems to have in her purse. Kids respond to that kind of instant gratification.

And it works for parents, too – in the mall the other day I heard a stressed-out mom tell her kids “if you don’t smarten up and start behaving right now Santa won’t come this year because he knows you’re bad.” This, despite the fact she was pushing a shopping cart loaded with the kind of toys my boys would love. It helps to have that kind of power of manipulation, doesn’t it?

Santa’s useful to believe in at this time of year, because believing in Santa means that you can be in control. You can get what you want through a simple bargaining exchange. If you’re good, you’ll get what you want. Since Santa is a creation of our culture, Santa works the way we want God to work. Unfortunately, our lives don’t always work we want them to.

I think it’s fitting that Christmas comes right on the heels of the winter solstice, the longest night. It is the longest night for some people, knowing that this is the year that everything changed, that you lost your house, your marriage, your spouse, your job. This time of year - when you are surrounded by the most ridiculous kind of gross consumption - your own troubles are thrown into sharp contrast.

A long, long time ago God promised to the people of Israel that they would be redeemed. God spoke to them through the prophets, laid out for people the way that they could live in community with each other, and have life-giving relationships with those who surrounded them.

Yet it turns out that people don’t take kindly to each other. You can’t enforce a command to “love your neighbour” because a law can’t change people’s hearts. So the same people who desired to be closer to God dictated that it must be on their own terms. Trouble was, their terms were death.

Into this conversation God spoke the Word. It’s difficult to understand the importance that “Word” has for Christians, because the Word is not just an abstract concept.

But I can rely on the wisdom of a four-year-old to explain it. When my son Duncan brings myself or my wife a book to read to him, he asks us to “talk words to me”. For him, the words are real, and they are brought to life when they are spoken. They’re not just on a page, static – they are waiting to be heard.

God created the world through words – the first words, “let there be light,” and all the words that God has spoken since have carried out their creative task. So, it was God’s Word that took on frail human flesh, in order to redeem God’s own people.

So why do God’s people need redeeming? Can’t we just be nice to everyone, the way Santa wants?

Here’s a tip, beloved: next Christmas, or even tomorrow, go to West Ed Mall, find a bench, sit down, and listen to the music. It’s lovely: peace on earth, goodwill to all, love came down at Christmas…you know the songs. But then watch the people. People who want to believe that they can buy happiness find they can’t. People run looking for bargains on what they can ‘save’, but maybe don’t realize that they are saved. Not for who they are, or what they’ve done or bought, but through who God is and what God does. But for most people, life on December 26 looks just like life on December, which looks like September 9…you get the idea.

That’s a sticking point around Santa, have you noticed? Santa can be put away for 11 months of the year. We don’t sing “Santa Claus is coming to town” in August (although in my house we might hear it). Yet Christian hymnody reminds us of a God who is always present with us, who adores us, who died for us, to save us from the consequences of our own sin.

How many times have you sat in the midst of the destruction and chaos of Christmas morning – wrapping paper everywhere, the kids hopped up on chocolate trying to wrap the cat – and looked at all things you’ve been given and been on the verge of tears; just wanting to say “you don’t have to give me this much to show that you love me”?

That is the darkness that we face this season – that growing trend that says if you love someone you have to give them lots of stuff. Particularly, if you want to marry them, or stay married to them. Love needs big trinkets. Why just tell your girlfriend you love her, when for a mere $1500 dollars you can buy her a necklace? Or $3700 for the “ring she’s always wanted?”

Trinkets for love is not an exchange that lasts. Love for love always does.

There was a man, sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.

Christmastime is about a love so fierce that we can’t escape it. It’s a love so dynamic that when it was spoken, the very Word spoken took on frail human flesh and lived among us. Not for money and power, but for grace, and truth. God’s love is so strong that it burns like a candle in the midst of a dark, dark night.

Light is one of those things that we take for granted, but consider this: settlements in Israel at the time of Isaiah through the time of Jesus were about a half-days donkey ride apart, and they’re built on ‘tells’ – little hills that spring up when towns are built, destroyed, and then built again.

But it could be terrifying when an army invaded, because if you were on the highest hill, you could see the lights of each little town first flare up, and then go out, one by one. All that was left was deep darkness. In that kind of darkness, one candle looked like a torch.

I sometimes think that the forced glee and feely-goodness of Christmas covers up a much deeper, darker despair. Because love – love without conditions, without rules, without power - is hard to find in a secular society. But here, in this place, God’s love for the world is the reason we gather; for we gather as children of God, born through baptism, united in love.

If there is a gift that Christians give to the world at Christmastime and at every time, let it be love. Not condemnation, not judgement, but love. The great Christian calling is to bear witness to the love of God in Christ – and if absolutely necessary, to use words to do so.

And there were people, sent from God, whose names were Erann, and Ralph, and Frank, and Ruth, (their names are all the names spoken by the breath of God) -- all who were baptized into Christ Jesus. They came for testimony, to bear witness to the light, that all might believe through their witness. They were not the light, but came to bear witness to the Light. And their song was joyous, and their reward was everlasting.

Let the people of God say amen.