We believe in Christmas.
We believe in the message of a star.
We believe in Christmas at every age,
no matter where we are.

Whether a child, adult, or elder alike
we believe in a Christmas tree
For where the child of God is laid
There will Christmas be. [1]

Christmas may be very near, perhaps as close as finding Jesus Christ in our midst, if we are willing to look. When we speak of Christmas, we often speak of wonder and awe and even when something feels missing or incomplete, Christmas still has a way of breaking in, revealing itself in ways both familiar and unexpected.
There is a beautifully illustrated Christmas book titled We Belive in Christmas, written by Karen Kingsbury. On its cover is a young Mary, gazing with deep awe and adoration at her newborn child, Jesus. I highly recommend it as a Christmas read. Kingsbury does a wonderful job of weaving together the Christmas story as it was in the beginning and as it has lived on through the centuries, right up to us today.

One of the great truths about Christmas is this: just when we think we understand it completely, there is always a surprise. There is always mystery. And that mystery draws us into reverence, into awe, inviting us to see the familiar in new ways, and sometimes to encounter the unfamiliar in holy ways. We experienced that just yesterday at our Christmas pageant. Everyone knows how a Christmas pageant is supposed to go. We come expecting joy, tradition, and perhaps a few charming imperfections—an unexpected line, a costume askew. And yet, even with a script, the Christmas story is never merely scripted. Christmas is something that is revealed, again and again, often in ways we do not expect.

We experienced that again this morning. Our opening procession and Gloria were beautiful, ancient, rich, and reverent. For some, it felt unfamiliar. It wasn’t unfamiliar because of a lack of beauty or meaning, but because it wasn’t what we expected to sing. And yet, when we listened, when we allowed the words to speak, we heard the Christmas story told in a different voice. Christmas came to us from an unfamiliar angle, and in doing so, invited us deeper.

For many who came to Lessons and Carols last night, Christmas meant hearing the carols they know and love, scripture woven with melody, so that they could leave with “Silent Night” resting quietly in their hearts. Christmas always carries mystery, and God knows this. That is why, when God sent his Son into the world, he came wrapped in both the familiar and the unfamiliar. I reflected last night on the light of Christ coming into a dark world, a world that often rejects that light. I spoke strongly about our need to carry that light outward. Christmas also reminds us that not everything is revealed all at once. There are places in our hearts still waiting for that light to reach.

In Kingsbury’s story, we encounter the awe of mystery, the way God brings what is familiar into what is unfamiliar. When Jesus was born, do we think it was only for that manger, that star, those animals and shepherds? Or was it for all times and all people? Christmas tells us the truth: Christ came not only to dwell in a stable long ago, but to dwell in the hearts of all who receive him. We imagine Christmas around pine trees and wrapped gifts. We picture traditions that feel warm and safe. But I sometimes wonder, did Jesus imagine that one day our traditions might become so familiar that they obscure his presence? Traditions can deepen our faith and draw us closer to God, but they can also, mysteriously, stand right in front of us and hide the very message they were meant to proclaim.

The author reminds us of another tree, the wood of the cross. The same material that marked Christ’s birth would one day mark his death. From cradle to cross, Christ shares fully in our human story. That is the beauty of Christmas. Jesus did not come simply to celebrate his own birth; he came to redeem our lives.

We hear the Gospel so often that we sometimes say, “I’ve heard that before.” We heard it last night: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” But what is that Word? That Word is Christ himself, God’s gift to the world. Christmas places that Word in our hearts, calling us to be at one with God and with one another. God did not have to come into this world and yet, unlike the passing gods of history, God chose to be present, to be Emmanuel. “I was in the beginning,” God says, “and I will be at the end.” And Christmas keeps that truth alive.

So where should Christmas be? It should remain where it began, in Jesus. In the child, in the teacher, in the crucified and risen Lord and in us, as we live out that story. This morning, you may not leave here chanting Latin or singing unfamiliar hymns, but wherever you go, take Christmas with you. Take Jesus with you into every place you live and move and love. Because there will Christmas be.

[1] The Rev. Jon Roberts
[2] We Believe in Christmas by Karen Kingsbury, 2008