It has been said that there
are times in the stillness of the evening, when we will suddenly be impressed
with the thought that every leaf on every tree and bush, every blade of grass,
has just whispered something profound, but we were too dull to understand it.
That is the Christmas season for me. Past all the trappings, the lights, the
decorations, and the parties, there lies something far deeper than we often
acknowledge. Deeper even than the church often acknowledges.
I was watching a Christmas
special on YouTube a couple weeks back, and it featured a character who, to
hazard a guess, was supposed to be Southern Baptist. She was, of course, the
one who had to learn a lesson about the meaning of Christmas, as she was far
too narrow-minded in her belief that the celebration of the “Christ Mass” had
something to do with Christ. Crazy talk, I know. But it did get me thinking.
Back in the 90's there was
the slogan “Jesus is the reason for the season.” In the finest tradition of the
90's, it was about as in your face as you can get, while still managing to hold
almost no weight. Like the also popular “What Would Jesus Do?” it fails to ask
the most important question. While the latter needs to first ask “What did
Jesus do?” the former needs to ask “What is the reason for Jesus?”
We live in a world so
saturated by the presuppositions of Christianity that popular atheists take
them as inherent to human nature. But that's far from the reality of life that
has been known by humanity for most of history. Today we call people heroes if
they courageously risk their lives in service of others. To the Ancient Greeks,
what made you a hero was that you won. Betrayal, deceit, torture, didn't matter
so long as you emerged victorious.
In the Roman era, children were left to die of exposure if they were deemed a
burden. About ten percent of the population were citizens, with actual
“rights,” and around a third of the population were slaves. Wives and children
were property. Crippling mutilation for crimes was normal. The rumor of dissent
in the military would see every tenth man killed, (where we get the word
“decimated”,) a riot could see the population of a city exterminated. Their
idea of a merciful god was one that turned their follower into a tree when she
was being molested. I could go on, but suffice it to say that this was
considered an improvement over what had come before. This was the pinnacle of
civilization.
Then, one day, this
carpenter from a backwater part of the Roman Empire walks into the synagogue in
a small town called Nazareth, and reads this section from Isaiah:
“The Spirit of the Lord is
upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath
sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering
of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised,”
Then he makes this statement:
“This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears.” Yes, read that again. The
above section from Isaiah was Christ's stated purpose for being here. If this
was his purpose, than this is why Jesus came, if this is why Jesus came, then
this is, in fact, the reason for the season. Healing for the afflicted, and
liberty to those who are enslaved.
At this time of year, I
sometimes hear those whisperings of something too profound for me to
understand. In the wind, in the starry night, in the songs of old. But
sometimes I catch a glimpse of some small aspect of these profound things, and
when I do, the seeds of a story are born. So I write, so I film, so I deliver
worlds and stories that I hope are both strange and familiar. Because sometimes
what we need, to see a thing in its full potency, is a new setting for the
ancient jewel of truth. After all, that was part of the reason he came, so that
we who have gone blind can regain our sight.
So that's what Christmas
means to me. The promise of a heart healed from the wounds it has suffered,
freedom from the things that bind us, and eyes opened, so they can at last see
the truth. All these things are present in the stories I try to tell. So in
this way, I suppose I do, (though not quite after the fashion of a certain
Ebeneezer Scrooge,) try to keep Christmas all the year.
“The people that walked in
darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of
death, upon them hath the light shined.”
