As we think about children, remember Christmas is for adults
See the fragile woman, white-haired, with wrinkled forehead and trembling hand. Her voice quivers slightly as she raises it to praise God. She squints through failing eyes to make sure she sees clearly the baby before her.
But she knew, even before she came close, the identity of this infant. Her words gave the young mother, possessed by wonder at all she was experiencing, even more to ponder. “Thanks be to God! The redemption of Israel has come to us at last!”
Moments earlier a prophet in the temple had taken the baby in his arms and likewise lifted his voice in praise. “My eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,” he prayed.
More than sentiment
Although these incidents, recorded in Luke’s Gospel, are not central in our Christmas story retellings, perhaps they should be. Often we hear, “Christmas is for children.” But Anna and Simeon, the two prophets named in this account, were aging adults as they saw the baby Jesus. The magi likewise likely were not young men, and the shepherds were grownups too. Jesus came to create far more than the warm sentiments of our culture, with our focus and even our sacrifices to make Christmas special for the youngest ones in our lives. We who know him—or at least know about him—celebrate his birth because of all the help he promises for our grown-up guilt and fear and myriad weaknesses.
We who know him celebrate his birth because of all he promises.
Here I’ll hasten to say that I love our Christmas traditions. I understand why some in this chaotic year put up their trees before Thanksgiving and started listening to Christmas music at Halloween. We need to hold on to the familiar, the unchanged, in a year when so much seems uncertain. No bah, humbug here. My Christmas lights outside have been twinkling for two weeks, and somebody told me we have the prettiest display on the street! (Not my goal, but it’s nice to hear.) We’re not ignoring the holiday this year.
But nevertheless, Christmas will be different for us, as it will for so many in 2020. So here’s my word of encouragement for those still sad because of what they’re giving up.
It’s OK to grieve a little. I look back at pictures of Christmas concerts we attended in Cincinnati’s Music Hall and hate that we won’t go this year. We’re making plans for a family gathering with each family unit sitting at a different dinner table and wearing masks when we gather around our tree. We’ll be sure and post a picture! I want to look back on this Christmas and remember how we gamely trudged through it.
But maybe our different Christmas can help us.
Maybe the changes can remind us of what’s still the same. In fact, maybe the hope promised by Christmas can come into sharper focus without some of the distractions typical of our holiday. Maybe we can ponder the cure for this world’s ills Jesus offers and be grateful for the chance to live out a unique redemption. Maybe we can remember that this world is not the end; if we’re frustrated with how it’s changing, maybe we can yearn a little more for the life he’s promised just ahead. Maybe we can understand a little better what we’re saying when we don sweatshirts that say, “Jesus is the Reason for the Season.”
Special times
We’re for sure planning special times this Christmas with the 4-year-old in our lives. Meanwhile, I’m vowing to remember some other issues as we celebrate: what my life can mean, where I can extend grace like the grace I’ve received, how I can find joy even when circumstances conspire against happiness.
Yes, Christmas will be different this year, but I don’t want to forget it. Next December, when I look back at the snapshot of my wife and me eating Christmas dinner at a card table in the living room, I can remember what I’ll need to think about again then: Christmas is for adults.
Photo by Glen Hodson on Unsplash. Sweatshirt image at Cafe Press.