Christmas and Secondary Creation

 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.”