When I was a kid, my church’s focused time for children on Christmas Eve was always framed as “Baby Jesus’ Birthday Party.” It was always a lot of fun, and probably a good way to wrangle a bunch of excited kids with visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads. But, as I grew older, I came to roll my eyes at the idea. Partly it was just being ‘over it’, partly it was meeting adults whose understanding hadn’t really progressed beyond that conception of the feast, and partly it was a reaction against the sickly sweet sentimentality of so many Christmas carols (”The little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes” ? Give me a break…). But in recent years, I’ve come to a renewed appreciation for the ‘baby Jesus’ as a baby. For in a world marked by sorrow, few things give more joy than a newborn. In a world where hope is hard to come by, few things plant a flag and insist on the potential of the future more than a newborn.These are not new ideas. Far from it. A baby is a universal symbol of hope and promise. But symbols find their power in their ubiquity, not in their uniqueness.
Few people used the motif of the child to come to better effect than the prophet Isaiah. With Judah betrayed by its brother state Israel and Jerusalem surrounded by enemies, the prophet uttered these words of hope:
Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel [i.e., ‘God-with-us’]. He shall eat curds and honey by the time he knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good. For before the child knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land before whose two kings you are in dread will be deserted. (Isaiah 7.14-16)
It may look bad now, Isaiah says, but a child is coming, and before he’s old enough to know right from wrong, your enemies will be destroyed and there will be plenty again in the kingdom.
He continues just a couple chapters later:
All the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire. For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom. He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onward and forevermore. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this. (Isaiah 9.5-7)
These are dark times, Isaiah says, but a child is coming, and he will usher in a new era of peace and justice and wisdom for all. There is a future for us, and it will be more beautiful than you can even imagine.
We see similar themes surrounding Jesus’ birth. For Mary, the child in her womb was a powerful symbol of God’s providential love for God’s people:
the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’ (Luke 1.49-55)
When the army of heaven appears to the shepherds, they proclaim: “I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord” (Luke 2.10-11).
And when Simeon encounters the infant Jesus at the Temple, he prophesies:
My eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light for revelation to the Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel.’ (Luke 2.30-32)
They didn’t know yet that, while Jesus was indeed the promised, divine child, his kingdom was “not of this world.” They didn’t know yet that this special, sacred life would end in disgrace, rejected by that same Temple’s own leaders and hung from a cross as an enemy of the state. Nor did they know that God would vindicate him and raise him from the dead as the firstfruits of salvation, and the pioneer and perfecter of faith, the pathway of peace. All they knew was that the infant before them was special. Like every infant, Jesus was special because he held within him the promise of the future. But unlike every infant, he was stamped for wonders by prophecy and the Spirit of God and not just a parent’s love.
But there were signs of trouble from the start. Mary’s miraculous pregnancy also put her in the crosshairs of legalists and moralizers, making her to be a scandal. Jesus’ birth coincided with a mad dash for all in Judea to return to their cities of origin to be counted in a Roman census, and when they arrived in Bethlehem, there was no room for them to stay, so Jesus ended up being born surrounded by livestock, with a feeding trough as his bassinet. Simeon ends his prophecy with a warning to Mary that all this will end with her heart pierced with grief. And, King Herod sent soldiers to hunt him down and kill him, forcing Mary and Joseph and their holy infant to flee as refugees.
There may be no greater symbol of hope than an infant, but this world has never been a safe place for hope.
And yet, hope remains. And I think that’s the message of Christmas for us this year.
We can’t count on the empires of this world or its religious authorities and systems to make a place for hope, or for any of the fruit of the Spirit (love, joy, peace…) for that matter. It’s up to the rest of us to insist upon it, to grab hold of hope and refuse to let go. To welcome the divine child — newness, freshness, life — into our hearts, minds, and lives once again and refuse to get bogged down by the deathly ways of this world: To choose mercy over judgment. To choose justice over greed. To choose welcome over security. To choose generosity over stinginess, and joy over fear.
Merry Christmas, and on this wonderful holy day, may we all choose hope and truly welcome the divine child into our hearts that we may be forever changed.
Matthew Root 
Thanks for the thoughts. we share some of the same observations.
“Church” or what the world calls church (assemblies.) To me this is an introduction to Christ. The rest is up to us, as our eyes are opened by seeking Him through the scriptures, and as we are brought unto True repentance and receive of His Holy Spirit.
The world goes in its direction as we are called in another.
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Every year, we sing “Away in a Manger” and I am always annoyed by the “no crying he makes” line. He was a human baby – of course he cried! I mean, maybe not at cattle lowing specifically, but I assume he probably decided to cry anyway since he was awake and probably hungry.
But the line always reminds me of how amazing it is that the Creator of the Universe – who listens to supernovae and other cosmic explosions that are way louder than any mortal ears can comprehend (let alone deal with) – became a human baby who found cattle mooing gently to be disturbing. If he didn’t cry, it might have been because he was confused and astonished. But I think he did cry because he would have been terrified. I was thinking how it would make poetic sense to think of him crying as a baby and then crying out on the cross “My God, why have you forsaken me?” It’s also poetic that his Mother was there for both occasions, and the first time, she could comfort and help him, but the second time, she could only watch.
Everyone likes the baby, but not the thirty-year-old rabble-rouser who spoke truth to power and broke rules. I prefer the adult Jesus, but if the baby version is what works for people, that’s fine too. He is certainly cuter and more approachable that way.
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