A Christmas Primer: Lesson 2, Who? What? Where?

In his letter to the Corinthians, the apostle Paul reveals what motivated God to act as he did when he sent his Son to die on the cross: “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God” (1 Corinthians 1:27-29). This teaching, offered to a church that was infected with a destructive pride, has tremendous resonance with the events surrounding the birth of Jesus.

Every aspect of what took place appears to have been designed by God to undercut humanity’s bent toward pride and power. The divinely sent conqueror arrives not in a chariot but a young maiden’s womb. His palace, a stable; his throne, a manger. His first earthly messengers are shepherds, considered unclean and unscrupulous by their neighbors. His herald, a child of barrenness. His presence, a provocation to the powerful. His future, an ignominious death. 

If anything is lost in the clutter of the season, it’s this: the humble, and humbling, origins of Christmas. With the deluge of festivities, bright lights, parties, and gift-giving, these realities tend to get swamped. But they are important to bring to the surface. It’s in them that the reason why the child came, to save his people from their sins, find their first expression. In order to accomplish his task, he will have to yield to the world’s pride. He will have to become foolish, weak, despised. But by his obedience to the divine will he will bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.

It all begins in Bethlehem, in the backyard of an inn, with a baby born into an unknown family from a town of ill-repute. It’s the way God works.

The Revealer of Hearts

Nearly all of us will pass through life unheralded. Our sojourn, while important to those with whom we have shared life, will likely not make it into the pages of history books. But there are those few who come into the world who go on to play a kind of super-human role in the destiny of their fellow human beings. And among such people there are those whose influence is so significant that they define categories by which we judge not only them but those who agree or disagree with them.  For instance, if Martin Luther King, Jr., is mentioned in a discussion one would likely discover what people think about him and, in turn, a lot about those involved in the discussion. The same could be said about Marx, Hitler, or Mandela. Such people become a benchmark, for good or evil, and their existence demands an opinion. As such, these oversized people have the power to reveal hearts.

To whatever extent this might be said of any particular person, it takes on eternal significance when it comes to Jesus. Simeon prophesied (Luke 2:25) that Jesus “was appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed” so that “thoughts from many hearts maybe revealed”. This is clearly demonstrated in an encounter at the house of Simon the Pharisee (Luke 7:36-50). Jesus had been invited to dine and from the moment he arrived and took his place at the table a woman, described as “a sinner” (a prostitute?), wiped, kissed, and anointed his feet. This extraordinary display of love and gratitude for Jesus laid bare, as Simeon had prophesied, the hard heart of Simon: “[W]hen the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, ‘If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner.’”

Jesus is on a mission to save people. For those who receive him he gives “the right to become children of God” (John 1:12), for those who reject him he becomes “a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense” (1 Peter 2:8). The sinful woman was grateful, the Pharisee, scornful. As a result they were an eternity apart in their understanding of what his presence meant. That staggering consequence is still in play when Jesus is made known to people today.