Years ago the cartoon strip “Family Circus” carried a cartoon that illustrates what happens so often to Christmas. It showed a little girl holding her baby brother in her lap and telling him the story of Christmas. Here is how her account read:
“Jesus was born just in time for Christmas, up at the North Pole, surrounded by tiny reindeer and the Virgin Mary. Then Santa Claus showed up with lots of toys and stuff and some swaddling clothes.
“The three wise men and elves all sang carols while the Little Drummer Boy and Scrooge helped Joseph trim the tree. In the meantime, Frosty the Snowman saw this star…”
It’s easy to see how she could be confused. So many secular trappings surround the celebration of Christ’s birth, that we could easily lose track of the real meaning of this wonderful season.
It reminds me of a nearly tragic incident that occurred in San Antonio, Texas sometime back.
It was a 99-degree September day in San Antonio, when a 10-month-old baby girl was accidentally locked inside a parked car by her aunt. Frantically the mother and aunt ran around the auto in near hysteria, while a neighbor attempted to unlock the car with a clothes hanger. Soon the infant was turning purple and had foam on her mouth.
It had become a life or death situation when Fred Arriola, a wrecker driver, arrived on the scene. He grabbed a hammer and smashed the back window of the car and set the baby free. Was he heralded as a hero? Fred said, “The lady was mad at me because I broke the window. I just thought, ‘What’s more important, the baby or the window?’” (1)
That’s a good question for us this Christmas Eve. What’s more important--the baby or the celebration? It’s an especially interesting question in our multi-cultural world. We don’t know what to do with the baby anymore.
Every December, schools across the nation make preparations to celebrate “Winter Festivals”--pale attempts to celebrate Christmas without any mention of God or Jesus Christ. We understand, but it is frustrating not to be able to let people know that the baby is the reason for the celebration.
One year, Candy Chand and her husband attended a memorable Winter Festival at their son’s school. Nicholas Chand was in kindergarten. The little ones were going to perform the obligatory songs about snow and Santa and candy canes. Nicholas’ group began with the song “Christmas Love.” As they sang, each child held up a letter to spell out the title of the song. But a little girl in the middle of the front row got confused and held her letter upside down. She had the “M” in Christmas. Warm sighs and smiles flowed through the audience as they read the children’s message. Instead of “Christmas Love,” the upside-down “M” changed the message to “Christ Was Love.” (2)
And it’s true. Christ was love. This is the message of Christmas. We need to state it in the present tense, though. Christ is love. We sing, “Love was born at Christmas,” and we know this is what Christmas is all about.
Ron Mehl tells the story of a grandfather who is trying to comfort his little grandson, Jeffy. Jeffy has done something wrong; his punishment is a time-out in the playpen. But Jeffy cries and begs his granddad to get him out. Grandfather knows that Jeffy’s punishment is just, but his love for the boy won’t allow him to watch the child suffer. So Grandfather chooses to be both just and loving--he climbs in the playpen with Jeffy. In this way, he shares his grandson’s punishment and at the same time offers him comfort. (3)
Christmas is about love. From the very beginning this has been so. God saw His children’s plight and God crawled into the playpen of our existence. To have the spirit of Christmas is to have the spirit of love.
Every once in a while we hear about someone who has been touched by the spirit of Christmas love and it renews our hope.
Once there was an old man in a small town. He was an ill-tempered recluse who avoided his neighbors at all costs. Most people give up on these folks, leaving them to rot in their self-imposed loneliness. But every once in while, love steps in and turns the situation upside down.
One Thanksgiving season, the youth group from a small West Virginia town decided to do a good deed for this cranky, unfriendly old man. The old man had been injured in a farming accident. He was facing a harsh winter with a dwindling supply of firewood. The teens decided to cut enough firewood to fill the man’s wood bins for the winter. They gathered in the woods that night, their pick-up trucks brimming over with firewood. Just as they were placing the last few logs in the wood bins, the old man suddenly jerked open his front door, his shotgun aimed into the night.
“Don’t shoot us!” the youth leader said. “We just came to help you with your wood.”
The old man looked at his overflowing wood bins and growled, “I don’t need any help. Get out of here!”
Later, the teens discussed their act-of-kindness-gone-wrong with the youth leader. Why would God ask them to do good works for those who don’t appreciate it?
A few weeks later at the Christmas Eve service, the whole congregation noticed when the cranky old man walked in the door. During the prayer time, the pastor asked if anyone had some thanksgiving to share. The old man stood and began, “A little over a month ago, I ran a group of kids off my property . . .” His voice faded, as his eyes overflowed with tears. The love of Jesus had broken through the old man’s defenses. (4)
This is what Christmas is all about--love. We all know that it’s true. From the heart of the Creator straight into our lives. And it’s all wrapped up in a tiny babe surrounded by his mother, Mary and his father, Joseph, and cattle and sheep and shepherds, and later, wise men and above them lingers a star. Angels sing in the heavens and for one glorious night, we see a glimpse of why this world was created. It was created for love. We live in a God-invaded world. Because we could not go to Him, He came to us. And because God came to us, everything is forever changed. Someone has summed it up in a little Christmas fable:
Once there lived a humble fisherman and his shrewish wife. Nothing the fisherman did was good enough for his wife. Her complaining nearly drove him up the wall. One day, the fisherman caught an especially shiny, large fish. Before he could toss it in his nets, the fish spoke up, “Release me into the sea again and I will grant you a wish.” The fisherman, though skeptical, gave it a try: “I wish my wife could be a fine lady of leisure, and live in a comfortable house with a white picket fence.”
Imagine the fisherman’s surprise when he returned home to find his humble shack transformed into a cozy cottage with lovely furnishings and a white picket fence. Instead of her usual shabby clothes, the fisherman’s wife wore crisp linen dresses and served his dinner on china plates. And the fisherman thought all was well.
Not much time passed before the fisherman’s wife began to complain again. “You had one chance to make a wish, and all you wished for was a nice house. If you’d been thinking straight, you would have asked for the fish to turn us into a Duke and Duchess who live in a splendid mansion.”
The fisherman thought he would never hear the end of her complaining. Then one day, what should pop into his boat, but the shiny, talking fish who had granted him a wish? “I’ve got another favor to be asking you,” the fisherman stammered.
“Ask away,” the fish replied.
“Could you maybe make the missus and me into a----um, a Duke and Duchess living in a fine mansion?”
“Of course,” the fish replied, and then it leaped over the side of the boat.
And for a very short time, the fisherman enjoyed peace and quiet at home. But he knew it couldn’t last. Soon, his wife wanted a bigger mansion and a better title. And each time she complained, the fisherman would go back to the lake and call for the fish to grant his wish. Finally, the fisherman’s wife decided that she wanted to be God. Nothing less than ultimate power and luxury would do. The fisherman reluctantly returned to the lake to make this final request. “So she wants to be God, does she?” the fish asked. “Are you sure that’s what she wants?”
“Positive,” the fisherman replied.
“Of course,” the fish replied, and then it swam away.
The fisherman dragged his heels going home that evening. He was too scared to see the results of this wish. But when he rounded the corner in the woods, he didn’t see the fine castle he shared with his wife. In its place, there was a small cave, and inside that small cave was a feeding trough for animals, and inside that feeding trough lay a tiny baby. The fish had granted his final wish. (5)
We live in a God-invaded world. That’s why we are here this evening. That is the great truth we celebrate. Christ is love. Love of the Creator for His creation. Love of the Father for His children. As we return to our homes this evening may the love of Christmas go with us.
1. Douglas Scalise, The Beacon, Brewster Baptist Church, December, 1997.
2. Rodney J. Buchanan, http://www.mulberryumc.org/Sermons/Dec24_00.htm.
3. Mark Adams, http://www.redlandbaptist.org/sermons/sermon20041212.htm.
4. Rev. Richard E. Stetler, http://www.stmatthews‑bowie.org/Worship/Sermons/2002/sermon_10_20_02.asp.
5. Victor Spencer’s (vspencer@cybertrade.co.za) “Preach Christmas--A Grimm’s Fairy Tale.” Cited by Rev. Richard J. Fairchild 2004, http://www.rockies.net/~spirit/sermons/a‑ad04su.php.