Pastor's Pen: The Irony of Christmas

I have noticed the transformation. In the midst of winter gray, homes are now graced with colors and lights. Evergreen trees with tinsel and ornaments take the prominent place in our living rooms. Familiar carols play on the radio and in the shops. There is an ironic juxtaposition of winter melancholy with the cheerful celebration of the Christmas season. Frankly, I think the irony is actually part of the point.

On that first Christmas, we encounter the difficulty and dreariness of this world. Judea is under the thumb of Roman occupation. A young couple has traveled back to the man’s hometown, not to celebrate family but to pay taxes. The place is crowded and inconvenient. The woman is pregnant and uncomfortable. The birth happens among the farm animals, and the child is laid in a feeding trough. Not a promising start to the greatest story ever told.

The Christmas carol asks, “Why lies He in such mean estate where ox and ass are feeding?” The question assumes a great deal. The irony is only apparent if we know who that baby will become. We ask the question from our side of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. However, on that day in Bethlehem, this birth would appear like so many births. “Why lies He in such mean estate?” The better question might be, “Why not?”

In the story of Jesus’ birth, the irony is not made apparent by twinkling lights and bright wrapping paper. Instead, the heavens themselves make the point. An angel announces, “I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord” (Luke 2:10-11). The angels pull the curtain aside, and we catch a glimpse of glory. The angels’ herald brings us to the manger. There, we share a knowing look with Mary and Joseph. This dreary world has been transformed, and we know exactly why.

This Christmas season, I pray that the good news of God’s love and salvation may receive new attention in our hearts. At worship and fellowship together, let’s live into the irony of Christmas.

Merry Christmas,

James Hodsden