A Bigger Christmas

My youngest grandson heard his first rendition of Feliz Navidad this last week. He loved it. "DeDi DaDiDa" he cheerfully sang as he walked around the house. That was it. And no amount of explanation or enunciation would fix it. He understood Christmas and we couldn't tell him otherwise.

We all know about Christmas. We're all ready for it. We get it. The snow, the bells, the lights, the tinsel. The poor young woman on a donkey with her older husband walking beside, unable to find a hotel room for the night, so they have their baby in the barn. An overstuffed, bearded man coming down the chimney of every home on Earth in one night giving toys to good and bad children alike (because, although there is the threat of being on the "Naughty List," no one every really is). A star and 3 guys on camels with gifts for a baby. We get it. We're aware of it. We're ready for it.

I think we need a bigger Christmas. I think that most of that has so cheapened the story that the reality is obscured. And while we celebrate a false sense of "Peace on earth" (because that line is in some angels' song who didn't actually sing it (see Luke 2:13)) with blinking lights and digital candles and gifts given to each other rather than the "birthday Boy," I long for the magnificence that is Christmas.

Christmas is not a fairy tale. It isn't a jolly Saint Nick (brought to you by Coca Cola). It isn't tinsel and bells. It is so, so much bigger. The real Christmas is the fulfillment of a plan set in motion by God from the beginning (Titus 1:1-3). It is the arrival of God Himself -- God, the Son -- clothed in flesh to walk among us -- Emmanuel; God with us. It is the ultimate condescension (the 2nd definition now: "voluntary descent from one's rank or dignity in relations with an inferior") -- God surrendering Himself to take on human skin to live as a human to die as a human for sins He never committed -- the sins of a rebellious race.

That's big; really big. Much bigger than a twinkling tree or silver bells. Much more significant than donkeys or camels or three ships sailing into Bethlehem. Even more than a drummer boy playing his best. It is God's answer to the cosmic problem we have caused. It is this answer alone that can provide "peace on Earth." It cost Him His Son and they -- the Father and the Son -- did it willingly for enemies who swore their allegiance to the god of this world. Somehow decorations and silver bells and snow seem to diminish in the glow of this Christmas story. We need a bigger Christmas. You know what we really need? We need a dose of angels declaring His glory with such magnificence that we are terrified. Or awed, perhaps (defined as "an emotion variously combining dread, veneration, and wonder that is inspired by, among other things, the sacred"). It was no small Christmas for those shepherds, was it?