There will always be unavoidable tension at Christmas that we are all forced to face every year. A part of what we love and long for this time of year is the familiarity of tradition, all those little things that we have to do and experience this time of year that mark it as special. It is that sameness that sets it apart from the rest of the year. It’s the time of year when we have to watch this movie, listen to that album or artist, bake this specific cookie or that sugary treat, or any number of other customs, just like we do every year for Christmas. The sameness helps cement this season as special.
But the tension starts to stiffen when that sameness is threatened by change, which always springs up in one way or another. A canceled flight or travel arrangements can cause change. Our kids grow up and, depending on which stage of life they’re at – possibly beginning new traditions of their own with their family – it may no longer be a given that we get to celebrate with them anymore. And as we age, we certainly don’t welcome the change of having to be much more discerning about what and how much we snack on over the holidays!
Adding to that tension is how well we’re focused on the reason for the season – the birth of the Savior of the world, Jesus. I invite you to wrestle with that tension and reflect on the weight of his birth – not pounds and ounces – but the weight of same vs. change. Did Jesus come into our world to ensure that everything in your life would stay the same? Or, did he come into our world to make sure that everything would change forever?
As we listen to the Christmas Gospel from Luke 2, we notice several things that were the same. A census was being taken – something that had been done the same every five years in the Roman world for several centuries already. Mary and Joseph were heading to their hometown to register for the census, just the same as everyone else in the Roman world was doing. The same shepherds were watching the same sheep in the same hills that surrounded Bethlehem.
Ah, but then God pierced the timeline of history with something that was drastically different, something not at all the same. “An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” (Lk. 2:10-14).
Did you catch it? Did you notice what had changed? Yes, an angel addressed the shepherds. Yes, an angelic army pierced the pitch-black night to proclaim the glories of God. Yes, those things were not at all the same. But the biggest change ever was what had just happened ever-so-subtly beneath the world’s radar: a Savior had been born.
That had never happened! It had been promised, yes; prophesied, yes. Those same promises and prophecies had been passed down for centuries. But this was different. This was not the same. This wasn’t just a declaration of what would be; rather, it was the reality of an event that had taken place. What was hoped for had happened! The Savior was born. Everything changed.
Contrast that with an area of your life and mine that has not changed – at least not as much as we’d like it to, and certainly not as much as God has called it to: it’s called sin. Sin, simply put, is missing the mark. It is as if every thought we think, every word we speak, every action we take, is like being at the foul line shooting a free throw. God’s demand is that every thought, word, and action is a swish from the line that seals our perfection. But instead of shooting 100% from the line, our lives are filled with one brick after another that clangs off the rim.
We read through the picture-perfect details of other people’s family life in their Christmas letters and cards and we can feel the envy creep in. CLANG! Another brick. Another half-truth at work to the boss to tide him over for the holidays. CLANG! A drink or two too many at the office party. CLANG! A snarky shot back at mom or dad when asked to help around the house. CLANG! A testy text fired off in anger or impatience. CLANG! Brick after brick after brick – some days may see more go in than others, but we’re nowhere near 100%, and never can be, because every CLANG from our past will always count against the perfect percentage God requires of us. Meanwhile, we keep adding missed shots every day of our life. That’s the same in our lives and it always will be. It will never change!
So the change that Luke recorded in chapter 2 was absolutely necessary. “A Savior has been born to you” (v.11), the angel announced. A trainer to get you in shape isn’t what you need to hit 100% of those free throws. You don’t need a motivator to yell at you or inspire you. You don’t need a shooting coach to help you with your form or technique. While they all might make some noticeable contributions, what you need is someone who is guaranteed to hit every single shot for you.
The good news of Christmas is that the Savior was born to do just that. Envy never once entered his heart. Lies never left his lips. He was never hungover, never dissed his dad or mom, and practiced patience perfectly. With his perfect life, he never missed the mark. He carried a perfect percentage.
That gift of his perfection would have been outstanding on its own! But the Savior is not like Santa, only bringing gifts one night a year. No, the Savior came to give so much more. He didn’t only come bearing the gifts of his perfection. He came to give a gift that would cancel out every future CLANG and forgive all future free throws ever missed. While the Savior got his start in Bethlehem, he would meet his end just outside of Jerusalem. The gift wrapped up in swaddling clothes would one day be stripped of those clothes and publicly whipped and crucified. He stepped in as the substitutionary gift to die in our place to save the human race. He paid the price for our sin and changed everything.
The angels pointed out that he would be the source of joy and peace for all people. Until Jesus arrived, the world’s experience with joy and peace had always been the same – short-lived, dependent upon temporary circumstances, or based on the hope of what was to come. But the Savior’s birth changed that forever. It would never be the same. The joy of our very real salvation has been permanently solidified. The peace of a fully restored relationship between mankind and God that is no longer divided by sin has been permanently solidified. The Savior’s birth, life, death, resurrection, and ascension assure us of it. They guarantee that nothing will ever be the same!
So how can you be? Knowing this, believing this, trusting this to be true – the Savior has changed us. The tension has been resolved. We have been released and freed from it. We have been changed! That means our joy is not connected to our circumstances, whether good or bad. That means our peace does not exist only in the absence of conflict or stress. Rather, joy and peace belong to us all day long, every day.
So when you don’t get what you hoped for under the tree this Christmas, you’re just looking in the wrong place – joy is found in the manger. When December 26 hits and the world begins its hurried rush into whatever is the next urgent thing to get ready for, we can still be at peace, found in the manger. When a new year begins and the same old problems spring up, they may not change, but how we handle them has, because they cannot rob us of the joy and peace the Savior came to bring. He came into a world that was otherwise stuck in the sameness of sin, and he changed it forever. He changed you forever, too, from sinner to saint. Merry Christmas!