Sometimes I think those of us who have been around the church a long time live so closely to the details of the Christmas story that we miss the big picture. The Christmas story is a slice of life; a snapshot of an event in history that is part of a much larger story. We gaze at a worn black and white print, when all along, we need only to lift our eyes to see the grandeur that is the real Christmas story.    I think that as we cozy up to the narrative of what happened on that first Christmas, we sanitize it, rehearse it, and retell it so many times and in so many forms that we launder the life out of it. We wear it like a favorite sweater and after a time, we’re so comfortable in it that we miss the enormous cosmic shift that occurred when God became man.

I think it’s appropriate that when we serve communion, we serve the wine in thimbles-full. After all, it’s impractical to serve up the entire meal, and I don’t think we could swallow the whole truth all at once, even if it were offered.    So we sip the story in measured doses. God created. Man sinned. God reaches out. Man rejects. God is relentless. Man rejects again.    And then, with a baby’s birth, everything changes. God becomes man. Immanuel, “God with us.” A man-child is born who, when he is grown, claims to be God in human form. And we are right to tell this story with large celebrations. We are right to tell the story with music and lights, drama and dancing. We are right to stop the world, to decorate our homes, to feast and to give gifts to one another. Nothing could be more right.

Because in viewing the snapshot that is Christmas, we sometimes fail to see the panoramic landscape of God’s plan of redemption. We celebrate a baby born in a manger. God celebrates restored relationship. We tell of shepherds and wise men. God tells of His love. We sing of angels. God sings of peace on earth. We observe a birthday while God commemorates nothing less than the once-and-for-all complete deliverance of the universe.    Nothing could be more wrong because we forget. Okay, maybe not you. But I do. I forget my need for redemption. I forget my total dependence on grace. I forget my absolute addiction to forgiveness. And these are the colors of Christmas: redemption, forgiveness and grace.

Though he was God,  he did not think of equality with God  as something to cling to.  Instead, he gave up his divine privileges;  he took the humble position of a slave  and was born as a human being.  When he appeared in human form,  he humbled himself in obedience to God  and died a criminal’s death on a cross.  Therefore, God elevated him to the place of highest honor  and gave him the name above all other names,  that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,  in heaven and on earth and under the earth,  and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,  to the glory of God the Father.  (Philippians 2:6-11)    So, when we celebrate the birth of Jesus, we are telling a larger story. We are telling the cosmic story of a God who loves his creation enough to go to the death for it. We’re telling and re-telling the story of a Savior-God who turns history upside down, redeems the present and saves the future.  

…[Jesus] gave up his divine privileges;  he took the humble position of a slave  and was born as a human being.  When he appeared in human form,  he humbled himself in obedience to God  and died a criminal’s death on a cross.    That, my friends, is the story of Christmas.