I BELIEVE
Christmas is less than one week away. We’ve all been painfully aware that Christmas was on its way. Advertisers have been hawking their Christmas wares since the end of October. The Christmas commercials that astound me most are the ones where a husband gives his wife, or a wife gives her husband, a brand new automobile for Christmas. Do people really do that? I’d love for my wife to give me a new car for Christmas. What I wouldn’t love is the years of monthly payments that would follow.
Speaking of monthly payments, I recently encountered a poem of sorts that pretty much sums up what Christmas in America has become. It’s entitled, “The Day after Christmas.” The author is unknown. Listen closely to the words, just the same. I think you’ll find them to be eerily prophetic.
‘Twas the day after Christmas, and all through the house,
Every creature was hurting – even the mouse.
The toys were all broken, their batteries dead;
Santa passed out, with ice on his head.
Wrapping and ribbons just covered the floor,
While upstairs the family continued to snore.
And I in my T-shirt, new Reeboks and jeans,
Went into the kitchen, and started to clean.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the sink to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the curtains, and threw up the sash.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a little white truck, with an oversized mirror.
The driver was smiling, so lively and grand;
The patch on his jacket said, “U.S. Postman.”
With a handful of bills, he grinned like a fox.
Then quickly he stuffed them into our mailbox.
Bill after bill after bill, they still came.
Whistling and shouting he called them by name:
“Now Dillard’s, now Broadway’s, now Penney’s and Sears,
Here’s Levitz and Target and Mervyn’s – all here!
To the tip of your limit, every store, every mall,
Now charge-away, charge-away, charge-away all!”
He whooped and he whistled as he finished his work.
He filled up the box, and then turned with a jerk.
He sprang to his truck and he drove down the road,
Driving much faster with just half a load.
Then I heard him exclaim with great holiday cheer,
“Enjoy what you got! You’ll be paying all year!”
Is that what Christmas in America has become? Is it a time to rack up incredible bills in the spirit of giving, or is there something more? Christmas is meant to be a time when we celebrate the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. We call it the Incarnation, which means, “God in the flesh.” We proclaim the word Emmanuel, which means, “God with us.” Tied to the holiday itself is a particular feeling. And frankly, I don’t think that’s a bad thing. How could it be a bad thing when perfect strangers are kinder and more loving, and they smile at one another and say, “Merry Christmas?” While many of us resent the commercialization of Christmas, I think most of us still appreciate the sentimentality.
Why, then, is Christmas under fire? In England, a group called the National Secular Society actually ran television ads during the Christmas season denigrating the Christian faith. I’ve talked about them in sermons before. They’re the ones who offer certificates of “debaptism” for those who want to symbolically undo their baptism. And there are things going on in this country as well, aimed at denouncing – or at least deemphasizing – the Christian faith.
Students in Plano, Texas, for example, were recently banned from wearing the colors red and green during Winter Break parties. Why? Because red and green are Christmas colors and they might offend some of their peers. In South Orange, New Jersey, carols were banned during the Christmas season, including those that mention the name of Santa Claus. Carols were banned in Glendale, Wisconsin schools as well. They said, “Music programs close to religious holidays should not use the religious aspect of those holidays as an underlying theme or motive.”
I think the most astounding case of all is what recently happened in New York City schools. In a dispute over the display of holiday symbols, New York City schools are allowing Jewish menorahs and Islamic crescents to be displayed. Yet they ban Christian nativity scenes from being displayed, claiming that the depiction of the birth of Christ does not represent historical fact. The Jewish and Islamic symbols are allowed because they have what they call a secular dimension. Christian symbols, however, are what they call “purely religious.” Thus, they are banned.
What strikes me here is the fact that they’re claiming that the birth of Jesus Christ is not historical fact. Perhaps what they really should say is that the way we depict the birth of Jesus Christ is not historical fact. And you know what? I can live with that. I can live with the claim that the way we depict the birth of Jesus Christ is not historical fact. Because maybe, just maybe, the birth of Jesus Christ is not something that is meant to be proved beyond a shadow of a doubt. Maybe instead, the birth of Jesus Christ is something that is meant to be believed.
Consider the passage we read from the gospel according to Matthew. There are a handful of passages in Scripture – and this is definitely one of them – that trouble a lot of scholars regarding the relationship between the gospels and history. Perhaps it’s the issue of the virgin birth. Or, perhaps it’s the way Joseph comes to put so much stock in a dream. In any case, this is a passage that seems to trouble quite a few Christians. The historicity of it all just seems a bit sketchy. We simply cannot prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.
And maybe that’s all right. As Luther Seminary preaching professor David Lose puts it, “Matthew is not writing history. Or, to be more accurate, Matthew is writing history the way all first-century historians operated: he is telling a story in order to persuade.”
Did you catch that? Matthew’s purpose in writing was not to record history. Matthew’s purpose in writing was to convince his readers that Jesus is the Christ, Son of the living God. He is not writing history the way we understand it today. His goal was not to offer a neutral, unbiased, objective account according to the rational standards of our sophisticated twenty- first century world. His goal was to say that the baby born of Mary was really the Son of God.
Now don’t get me wrong. Matthew is definitely telling a story he believes is true, and I firmly believe that he wants us to believe it as well. Yet it’s not the “facts” that Matthew presses upon us, but rather, it’s a larger truth that he can only confess. And by taking great pains to prove the historicity of the passage Matthew writes, perhaps we miss the treasure Matthew offers. Matthew offers a confession of faith that in the person of Jesus Christ, God is working to keep the promise he made through Old Testament prophets to bring about the salvation of the world.
Matthew begins by laying out an impossible situation. A girl named Mary – likely just a teenager – is engaged to a man named Joseph. She turns up pregnant. Joseph knows the child is not his. Being a just man and not wanting to put her to shame, he resolves to divorce her quietly. Then an angel of the Lord appears to him in a dream and tells him that the child Mary carries is of the Holy Spirit. The child Mary carries is to become the Messiah Israel has long awaited. What man among us would believe such a story? The life of Christ begins amid an impossible situation.
Borrowing from Luke’s gospel, the story becomes even more impossible. Mary is great with child and they are forced to travel from Nazareth to Bethlehem – a distance of 80 miles – to take part in a Roman census. It’s a trip we could do in just over an hour on the interstate, but on foot with a pregnant woman, the trip might have taken five or six days. Then Jesus was born in a stable, as there was no room for them at the inn. This child of humble origins rose to become the most influential man in human history. God takes the impossible and makes it incredible. We might even say that God is at his best when we are at our worst.
Matthew isn’t trying to give us a history lesson. Matthew is giving us his confession of faith. He tells us of how God takes the impossible and makes it incredible. He tells us that God is at his best when we are at our worst. He tells us that in this child of humble origins lies the secret
to our salvation. The question is, do you believe it?
I’ve thought a lot about the human condition. Life certainly has its beauty. There are moments in life we wish could savor and keep forever. But life is fraught with trials and tribulations as well. There are times when we suffer unspeakable pain. There are days we encounter tremendous heartache. There are moments we find ourselves wrapped in hopelessness. One thing I’ve decided is that life is impossible without help from above. Salvation is impossible without help from above.
God’s standards are incredibly high. All of us fall woefully short of perfection. We let others suffer or we ignore their pain because we’re incredibly self-centered. We simply can’t help it. We’re conditioned to think first of ourselves. And then when we get involved in the Christian faith, one of two things occurs. We either begin to think we’re better than everyone else, or we begin to think that we’re so far from perfection that there’s no use even trying. But the further we delve into spiritual matters, the more we come to realize that life is a test we cannot ace the first time we try. We get better as time goes on. We do better each time we take the test. But if we’re honest with ourselves, we never achieve a score of 100%. We need help. We need help from above. If we are ever to achieve salvation, we will need the grace of God in Jesus Christ.
And that’s the purpose of this child whose birth we celebrate on Christmas Day. He comes to teach us right from wrong. He comes to show us the ways of God. He comes to give his life as a ransom for many. That’s what Matthew wants to tell us. He wants to tell us HIS confession of faith, and he wants us to believe it as well.
So let the New York City schools ban the use of nativity scenes because it cannot be proved that the way we depict the birth of Christ is historical fact. It is not a story that is meant to be proved. It is a story that is meant to be believed. Now I don’t know about you, but I believe. I believe…with all my heart. Do you? Amen.
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