In Defense of the Offensiveness of Christmas

Earlier this week I was able to attend my favorite concert of the year: Behold the Lamb of God, authored by Andrew Peterson and featuring way more talent than any one town should be blessed with. It’s a beautiful, artful night in celebration of a seminal point in the Christian faith—the incarnation of almighty God as a human baby. Eternity stepped into time, so it is believed, leaving the riches of heaven for a manger in a remote corner of the Roman empire around 4 B.C. This unimaginable notion has since spread throughout the world and led to one of the most celebrated days in mankind.

Christmas is not a religious holiday, strictly-speaking, and has merged with secular traditions and holidays over the years—leading to traditions like the Christmas tree or Yule logs. But in our country, in recent years, this particular holiday has come under fire by atheists and secularists, in the spirit of political correctness and separation of church and state, and resulted in a more ecumenical “Happy Holiday” season—particularly in commercial marketing. I mistakenly associated this distaste with secularism as a whole, and was thus surprised to find that the much-more-secular Europeans that I encountered on my recent trip abroad celebrated Christmas (not generic holidays) with unabashed revelry and decoration. “Merry Christmas” was everywhere, and no offense seemed to be taken. Like Ricky Bobby in Talladega Nights, it’s comfortable to picture God in perpetual infancy laying in hay and surrounded by animals, blessing everyone with a reason to gather family together and exchange gifts.

So why has so much hay been made in our country in recent years by atheist groups on the march and evangelicals on the defensive in what some call a culture war over Christmas? The American Family Association releases an annual “naughty list” of retailers not properly recognizing Christ’s birth, including Banana Republic and, shockingly, Victoria’s Secret. “If a company has items associated with Christmas, but did not use the word ‘Christmas,’ then the company is considered as censoring ‘Christmas,’” according to the organization’s website. Meanwhile, the Freedom From Religion Foundation (TFFR) is currently petitioning to place a sign next to a Texas town’s nativity display saying: “At this season of the winter solstice may reason prevail. There are no gods, no devils, no angels, no heaven or hell. There is only our natural world. Religion is but myth and superstition that hardens hearts and enslaves minds.” Happy holidays indeed!

As in most political divides, there are extremists on each side battling for ground—threatening boycotts or bringing lawsuits, while most of us long to celebrate our holidays freely in whatever manner we wish. So why would someone take offense at hearing someone utter the words “Merry Christmas”…or sing “We Wish you a Merry Christmas” at their children’s holiday concert…or place a manger scene or Christmas tree in their town square? I have two thoughts.

The first revelation that was brought to my attention by a liberal friend of mine is more of a sociopolitical issue than a spiritual one:  The moral benefit of the minority. By this I mean that, according to many on the political left, if a person in the minority is offended by something, that offense is greater than it would be if the rolls were reversed. This way of thinking translates to hate-crime legislation that says that if a minority is injured by someone in the majority, that crime is worse than had the crime been committed by a minority. It took me a while to grasp this concept because it runs counter to my belief that justice is blind—that all people are equal in value and all trespasses of justice are equally egregious. But, justice aside, there’s something to be said for having mercy and being sensitive to those who are in a minority—to try to understand a position that you may not have ever found yourself in. This dynamic should not be overlooked, though the implications—especially in cultural mores and legal recognition—are highly debatable.

The second reason, I think, is more significant. What are we really celebrating here, and why isn’t it always received as good news of great joy?

Jesus’ birth was not good news for the political establishment. Upon hearing of the birth of a Jewish King near Bethlehem, King Herod sought to kill Jesus and ordered all baby boys under the age of two to be put to death. Jesus’ birth was not good news for the wealthy, who were given poor odds of entering the Kingdom of Heaven (as the camel through the eye of a needle). Jesus’ birth was not good news for family values, as a boy born out of wedlock announced he came to turn “‘a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law.” Jesus’ birth was not even good news for the religious establishment. After seeing his miracles and enduring rebukes from Jesus, Pharisees and Sadducees alike plotted to kill him…and eventually succeeded. The list goes on until the life of this revolutionary ended with crucifixion on a cross—the most offensive death one could suffer. The followers of this condemned man then contend that he did what no man before or since has done—raised himself from the dead, and then floated up into heaven on his own accord. If that wasn’t enough, we who believe the book that makes these outlandish claims expect him to return to earth—not meek and lowly in a manger this time but, according to the book of Revelation, riding on a white horse with eyes like blazing fire, dressed in a robe dipped in blood and “out of his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations.” Season’s greetings indeed!

For many, the Christmas tradition is about shopping malls, sugar plums, and jolly ol’ Saint Nick. But, as the grinch observed, “Maybe, just maybe, Christmas means a little bit more”. And in this historical and/or spiritual context, the desire to add the sign next to the manger makes a little more sense, doesn’t it? Perhaps some people not willing to believe in a virgin birth or a second coming don’t relish the thought of being struck down by this baby’s triumphant return, or subsequently treaded by “the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty.” If there is a God—at least a god like this—they’d probably rather not to be visited by him in any form, but would prefer be left alone by him…and by any followers celebrating him. Really the better question may not be why are people offended by Christmas, but rather who isn’t?

Which audience did the angels choose to announce their good news of great joy? The social, economic, political, and religious outcasts working the nightshift as shepherds out in the country. They were busy raising the lambs for slaughter to cover the sins of the others who could afford to buy them, and they were terrified by the appearance of an angel announcing news. But, upon hearing it, they hurried and left their soon-to-be-obsolete flocks, found the baby wrapped in cloths as they were told, and spread the word and the amazement. Meanwhile, a world away, some eastern astronomers considered wise with no vested interest in prophets, genealogy, or a messiah, saw a light shining the darkness. These three so-called kings journeyed across continents to give costly treasures to this little Jewish child, then risked their lives to protect him by evading King Herod and defying his decree.

The subtext of Christmas is that, granted freedom to choose our fate, we long ago messed up this world and isolated ourselves from communion with a holy and concerned creator. But, out of love, our heavenly father (as Jesus introduced him for the first time) condescended to become one of us to live the life we should lived and die the death we should have died. Rather than leave us to our own devices to live our lives as we saw fit—facing a hopeless conclusion—he made a way back to him:  A light shining in the darkness, a spotless sacrificial lamb: the long-awaited savior.

If this appeals to you—if, like the shepherds, you’re not upset at the thought of leaving your life behind to follow a vision and announce it to the world or, like the three kings, you’d be willing to travel around the world because of an anomaly that defies all of your calculations—this holiday’s for you. If you look around and see a world in darkness, and then see hope in a baby as the unique light of this world—a king at whom’s feet you would worship and surrender your greatest treasures—then peace to you on whom his favor rests. With Jesus’ mother Mary, you can sing to the great Shepherd and one true King: “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation. He has performed mighty deeds with his arm.”

But Mary then continues, “He has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.” To those who do not see their need for a savior, who prefer power to servanthood, who are not hungry for more than they have here, and who have so much to give but reject the greatest gift from their maker, this doesn’t sound like good news.

So if you come across someone who’s not feeling so festive this holiday season and doesn’t wish you a hearty Merry Christmas—or even wants to put up a derogatory sign or water down the words to your kids’ favorite Christmas carol in the school program—you might cut them some slack. Maybe they understand the reason for the season better than, say, the local mall with its Santa clause, manger scene, and Christmas sales. And maybe, instead of asserting our agenda to defend our claim on a cultural tradition, our message to them could be of the true spirit of Christmas—good will to men.

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