by Andrew Cameron

How is it possible to reconcile all the fine things about Christmas, with what we have to live through at that time of year? The materialism, the pain of strained relationships, and the stresses of the workplace.
We hear again of angels bringing ‘good news’ of ‘great joy’, and we so want to experience that joy over the saviour’s birth. But so often we cannot, and it seems like such a put-on to try. For Christian people, responding to Christmas seems to remain a huge riddle, and the people above represent dozens of blended stories that we’ve all heard and lived.
Every so often, I have a good year. For a few brief moments, in some meeting or Bible reading or song, I’ll glimpse just how astonishing the news really is. But it’s like the sun peeping out briefly through dark clouds, since more often than not, I am mainly aware of problems.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this. Why does ‘joy’ feel so forced for Christian believers at Christmas time?
It’s not that we don’t believe it. Oh, sure, some pretend to be Christians at Christmas, but there’s less than there used to be since most non-Christians today don’t believe in sitting at church when there’s partying to be done. No; the people I have in mind passionately believe that the Lord of heaven and earth came as a baby. They adore parts of the Bible such as Philippians 2:6-11, which shows the Second Person of the Trinity stepping through a descending series of humiliations, just for sinners like us. They know full well that the birth of Jesus was just the first of these steps.
So if it’s not unbelief that’s the problem, we find ourselves perplexed by something else. Our puzzlement is that we seem distracted, de-focused from the message of Jesus, noticing instead all the discordant aspects of Christmas. Although we want to be happy, we find ourselves perplexed by a gap of sorts. We desire happiness, but instead, painful emotions come from painful things that immerse us at Christmas time.

Perhaps it is this notion of ‘discordance’ which needs further investigation. What is ‘discording’ with what?
I can’t help wondering if it begins in our childhood. Many of us had families who tried, within their means, to make Christmas fun for us. We remember the sleeplessness the night before, the present-fest all next day, and the feasting.
My favourites were this unbelievable trifle that my mother would make, and some amazing pineapple-in-green-jelly thing that I’ve never seen since, and a huge leg of ham. We’d scavenge out of the fridge for days to fuel the languid summer afternoons that followed, playing with our toys.
I don’t want to knock this.  Our families just did what families do, trying to shows us in a concrete way that they love us, trying to make sure we’re not the odd one out. Sure, they might have planted the seeds of consumerism in us in those childhood days, but that’s not really my point.
Rather, I have a question. I wonder, does the memory of this childhood blind us to something as adults?
To pinpoint what we might be blinded to, pause to reflect upon what we retain, and what changes as we grow. Do we retain from childhood a sense that Christmas is meant to be special, meant to be joyous, meant to be a happy and different kind of day?
We understand as adults, of course, that this joyousness is no longer to take the form of toys and green jelly. We realise that our joy is meant to be shaped by the real meaning of Christmas—that our Saviour has been born. But has our childhood embedded in us a sense that Christmas is about a magical sort of happiness, even if we now know that happiness is truly found in the real meaning?
If I’m right, then consider what we’ve allowed ourselves to be blind to. When we find ourselves perplexed by various evils that seem discordant, have we actually missed something blazingly obvious?
We know Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.  The angel said as much to Joseph: that Jesus will save people belonging to him, from sin. Yet we fail to see that this is the nub of what Rupert, Samantha, Toby, Camille, Norman and Persephone [see box] experience at Christmas time: that people are sinners and that the world is a tragic, fallen place.

The Christmas we experience has not stopped being fallen and sinful just because it is Christmas time. But perhaps our happy memories confuse us: because the day is about the Prince of Peace coming, then the day itself should be one of peace, a day when there is less sin and rebellion in the world, a day when people love each other a little more. Perhaps we are tripped into thinking that God’s diagnosis of humanity should stop being true for one day of the year.
But surely that misses the point. The agonies we see around us at Christmas time are because the problem of sin doesn’t magically submerge on December 25. To the contrary; just as in any time of stress on humans, sinful patterns of behaviour and false hopes all re-emerge even more forcefully.
Christians shouldn’t be surprised by this; rather, we should expect it, and even plan for it. It might be time to finally kiss goodbye our long-lost childhood recollections. It might be time to renovate our thinking about Christmas, which is always a time when fallen humanity, the shep-herdless sheep, surround us in a new mixture of heartbreak and opportunity. Far from being a time when we take a brief holiday from the gospel, it is a time when we need the gospel more than ever. We need it to minister to our own sadness at what we see. We need it for those around us who are so lost.
I wonder if Camille, Samantha and Persephone could name what they see and pray for new ways of saying the gospel to those they love. “Are you happy with this way of living? Do you ever hope for something different than our family has? Can I tell you about someone who sets people free from all that?”
I wonder if Rupert, Toby and Norman could find a new voice. Not speaking in an embittered way, as if sin is finally triumphant in an Australian Christmas, but seeking instead to show that although Australian Christmas magnifies folly, there is one who came to rescue us.
Christmas is just like any other time of the year where we ‘fight the good fight’. We still accept God’s diagnosis of humanity and expect humanity to do dumb things. We don’t expect ‘the Christmas season’ magically to submerge human error. We remember that people need the good news of forgiveness and new life. We hope for opportunities to tell it. We trust in God to sustain us through the difficulties of even this season.
This realistic, gospel-centred-Christmasing might even have an unexpected spin-off.
The green jelly might even start to taste good again.