Even the most hardhearted adult probably still feels a sentimental glow when thinking about the Christmas story. It’s as if we all still have something of the child in us, and are filled with wonder at the magic of this perennial story. Even though the mental image we have of it is likely to be a composite of various artistic representations, and not necessarily faithful to the actual Gospel accounts, the broad outline of the story remains familiar to most people who have grown up in this country.
It concerns a baby born to a young mother and her husband, miles away from home in another town. The town is so full of other visitors that there is nowhere for them to stay, so the newborn infant is laid in a feeding trough, in the place where the animals shelter. Shortly afterwards unusual visitors begin to arrive. Shepherds come from the hills outside town, reporting a vision of angels telling them that a king had been born. Later still - perhaps almost two years later - foreigners come from a distant country, saying they have seen the birth announced in the stars. Then come squads of soldiers to slaughter the infant boys of the neighbourhood - but by then the baby and his parents have fled.
The horror of the last part of this - not usually included in the Christmas celebrations, though we sing about it in one of our carols - reminds us that this is not just a tale of sweetness, light and joy. It’s a story that concerns real human lives and history, with all the tenderness with which we welcome new life, and all the cruelty that human beings are capable of.
The startling thing about it is, that this is God’s master plan to rescue a ruined world; and though the world may still look pretty wrecked, and the rescue work is still going on, this is the only rescue plan there is: God has no other. When he took pity on a world that had gone horribly astray, by turning its back on him, God did not send in the heavenly Marines. There certainly were legions of angels standing in readiness, but they were called upon only to be messengers, not an invading army. The Invader-God came himself, in the helpless form of a human child.
What an incredible risk he was taking! So many things could have gone wrong with the plan, before Jesus was strong enough to defend himself. Herod might have succeeded in his murderous plan to assassinate the ‘king’ he assumed was a threat to his own power. The parents might have been too poor or neglectful to give the boy a proper upbringing. He could so easily have succumbed to childhood illnesses for which the medical treatments we take for granted simply didn’t exist. All through the boy’s (and man’s) life, his enemies were trying to find ways to destroy him. And eventually they did; but by that time God had chosen the manner of it, and ordained that this death on the cross would be not the defeat, but the accomplishment, of God’s Plan A.
I don’t suppose any of us would embark on such a risky, dangerous enterprise unless it was absolutely necessary, and there was no alternative. And that’s how it was for God. His crazy, passionate love for a world that hated him, drove him to this extremity. And nothing but an offering of his own life, a perfect human life, could achieve the reconciliation of estranged humanity.
In the Christmas story, God gives himself unreservedly to us, makes himself entirely vulnerable to us, allows us the dignity of deciding for ourselves what we will do with this strange gift of a helpless Child. Will we reject it? Destroy it? Ignore it? Scorn it? Or embrace it with lifelong love and gratitude?
Do join us in the stillness, darkness and simplicity of our Christmas celebrations at St Nicholas, to reflect on God’s inexpressible Gift, and respond to it in whatever way you are moved to.
We wish a very happy and blessed Christmas to all of you, and your loved ones.
Published in the Marston Times, December 2008