It’s too easy, and too common, for Christians to scoff at the secularization of Christmas. I grew up around many Christians who were aggressively protective of the “Christianess” of Christmas. Perhaps you know someone—or are someone—who insists on saying “Merry Christmas” instead of “Happy Holidays,” or who proudly insists that we keep Christ in Christmas. Unknowingly, perhaps, Christians can turn this profound day of commemoration, one that should deeply humble us, into a source of defensiveness and even—for some—shallow self-righteousness.
But our interactions with those stumbling in darkness—neighbors, coworkers, the college student working at your local coffee shop—should make us neither defensive nor prideful. The foolishness of the world that rejects their Maker and his Son ought to be, instead, a cause for sorrow. The curse lies heavy on humanity.
Celebrating the coming of the promised Christ should remind Christians that the gospel is intended to go to the ends of the world, and we are meant to bring it there. The work of the Messiah is the hope of all the earth. What a joyful, humbling thought.
A Salvation Always Intended for the Nations
In the Old Testament, God’s salvation was exclusive; his favor only given to his chosen people, Israel. The nation of Israel was intended to stand out among the nations as an example of God’s righteousness and mercy. See how he takes care of those he loves? See also how they live? Of course, Israel, like Christians today, continually failed to uphold God’s perfect laws, further proving that a Messiah was necessary.
But even in these days of God’s exclusive grace and favor, in which only Israel benefited from his covenant promises, there are bold proclamations from the psalmists and prophets that the long-awaited Messiah will be for all people. In David’s psalm about the glad worship of God and the mighty works of his creation, we read: “By awesome deeds you answer us with righteousness, O God of our salvation, the hope of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas” (Ps. 65:5). And the prophet Isaiah, in his passage about the Servant of the Lord, writes:
It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to bring back the preserved of Israel; I will make you as a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.— Isa. 49:6
These are the nations “who walked in darkness,” who “have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone” (Isa. 9:2).
And when Simeon meets the baby Jesus in the temple, he takes him in his arms, thanking God for allowing him to see the fulfillment of his promises: “for my eyes have seen your salvation that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel” (Luke 2:32).
Our tendency in the Christian West can sometimes be to turn the gospel into a club with exclusive access, and maybe even to judge or condemn those who don’t have a membership card. But the good news was always intended to be global. Paul’s mission in establishing the Early Church is built on these prophesied promises, that God’s salvation is not just for Israel, but for all who would profess and believe (Acts 26:23). The days of exclusivity are over!
A World that Groans to Be Remade
But the fall didn’t just corrupt humankind with sin; it corrupted the earth as well. Creation, once perfect, is now wracked by the curse. Weeds and thorns grow. It groans to be remade, as Paul describes in Romans 8. “For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (Rom. 8:20–21).
The striving and vanity of this life beg redemption. Christ’s second coming will bring it. When we celebrate Christmas, we ought to at once be grieved by the primary reasons for which Christ was incarnate, and also rejoice at the great provision of God who makes and remakes.
Not with scoffing and offense, but with kindness and charity, should Christians look upon those who trade the gospel message of “peace on earth” for a Hallmark version of a lesser hope. A Christian can sing, “Through the years we all will be together,” looking not to the earthly passing of time, but to eternity, where the family of God will feast and worship in glory. We can point toward a time when God will “wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore” (Rev. 21:4), when the Lord will say, “Behold, I am making all things new” (Rev. 21:5).
The warmth, nostalgia, and longing for better times woven into the secular celebration of Christmas is telling. At least this once a year, a world that refuses to acknowledge its Creator, and is blinded to the light of salvation, spills open the inner longings of the human heart, which breaks with weariness from sin and suffering and longs for restoration. For all those suffering beneath the dreadful weight of a cursed world, a light has come—would they confess and believe. Hope has taken on flesh.
A Great Commission
So, where does this leave us with our “Happy Holidays” and our slightly aggressive bumper stickers? We, who are part of the Gentile inclusion—should we not approach the season of Advent with a deep humility and a longing that the lost would be brought into the fold? If we sing, “Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus,” should we not also reflect that posture in our holiday tidings?
Israel's strength and consolation, hope of all the earth thou art; dear desire of every nation, joy of every longing heart
We are no longer in the age of exclusion, but of inclusion, and God is pleased to use us to bring the gospel to our unbelieving friends, neighbors, co-workers, classmates, and local baristas—not by insisting on a “Merry Christmas,” any more than invoking a more inclusive “Happy Holidays”—but by demonstrating to them that love by which they will know we belong to Christ (John 13:35; Gal. 5:22–23). And then, with gentleness and respect, we can share the reason for the hope that we have (1 Pet. 3:15), the good news that God himself has come to earth to taste our sadness and to make the world right again. Come, taste and see.
