At one time, I was so disgusted by the commercialism and paganism of Christmas that I refused to celebrate the holiday. Celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ, our Lord, seemed drowned in flying reindeer, roasting chestnuts, frosty snowmen, and holiday evergreens.
“You will change your mind once you have children,” the well-meaning often told me.
I didn’t.
What did change my mind was realization that, even in the glitz of this tinsel time, I could properly observe a truly Christian version of this celebration. I remember hearing Christian writer and scholar R.J. Rushdoony once say, “If God the Father celebrated His Son’s birth with angelic announcements, certainly we are safe celebrating his birth today.”
Much like the Roman Catholic Church took the traditions of Saturnalia and turned them into “Christ-mass” in 350 AD, I look at the celebrations today as reflections of messages about Jesus.
I love Christmas lights, even though I never seem to find time to put any up on my house. More times than I like to remember, I have placed small grandchildren in my car and took them to look at Christmas lights. Most recently, Sandra and I rode around with Ben and Alli. When we saw lights on Ben’s side, we would call out “Ben’s side.” Then Ben, nearly three, took over.
When lights were on Alli’s side, he called out, “Alli lights.” When the lights were on his side, he said, “Ben lights.” In one simple moment, he turned lights into a game.
When I see lights, I remember Jesus is the light of the world. His light still shines in the darkness, and too often, the darkness simply does not comprehend the depth and meaning of that light. However, no darkness is strong enough to conquer even the weakest light.
When I see gaily lit Christmas trees, I think of another tree, a gruesome tree upon which the Prince of Glory died. In the Eighth Century, a poem appeared titled “The Dream of the Rood.” The Rood is the cross, and in this dream-vision, the Cross of Christ gives a heroic account of Jesus dying in its embrace.
In most epic poetry, a section deals with the arming of the hero. In this poem, the clever poet has a section best described as the disarming of the hero. Jesus lays aside everything and ascends the cross to fight his epic battle against sin, death and the devil.
(For anyone interested, Charles W. Kennedy’s translation of “The Dream of the Rood” from Old English into modern English is available online.)
Although I think we spend entirely too much time and money on “Christmas presents,” I use those gifts as a reminder of two things.
Tradition has merged the story of the birth of Jesus with the visit of the Wise Men, the Magi. Many nativity scenes feature the Magi, even though they did not appear until nearly two years after the birth of Jesus. Mary, Joseph and Jesus were living in a house when the Wise Men tracked them down.
But the three gifts the Magi brought have tremendous significance: gold, frankincense and myrrh. Gold is symbolic of the kingship of Christ. Remember: the Magi asked, “Where is he that is born the King of the Jews.” They understood the royalty of Christ.
Frankincense symbolizes his deity and his office as our great high priest. Myrrh was a particularly strange gift. Most of us would be taken aback to have someone offer a bottle of embalming fluid to our newborn baby, but myrrh was an embalming spice commonly used among the Jewish people during the time of Christ.
Christmas gifts remind me of the deeper, more significant gift: “For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
God’s true Christmas gift did not come into the world to condemn the world, but to give the gift of everlasting life through His life, work, and death.
In the spirit of God’s most unspeakable gift, I wish you all a Merry Christmas.
Mike Parker is a columnist for The Free Press. You can reach him at mparker16@suddenlink.net or in care of this newspaper.