I saw a local news piece that also played on the radio, featuring a reporter asking people how they felt about Christmas. The context for the report was within a frame of mentioning that this year is particularly hard for many people. Inflation was mentioned, and the high cost of living. The reporter opened by asking what the person felt about Christmas. Generally the response was positive. Some people mentioned favourite traditions. Others spoke about the season being one of light and hope. Everyone said that they really liked Christmas. The follow-up question was the one that most fit the intent of the segment: “What stresses you about Christmas?”
Clearly, the reporter did not get responses that they had anticipated. Most people replied that they were not really that stressed out at all. Some people paused and looked aside as if they were looking for some answer that would satisfy what the reporter was hoping to hear.
In some cases, the reporter offered a little more direction: “I mean, with inflation and things costing so much more, what are you stressed out about this year at Christmas?”
“Oh yeah,” came a few responses. “I suppose I am stressed about how much things cost.”
The interesting thing about this response was that, in a couple of cases, it was qualified by pointing out that the anxiety was felt on behalf of others rather than themselves, like it must be so hard for other people. Maybe the reporter was just in the wrong place.
Christmas, in theological terms, the incarnation of Jesus, has often in Christian history been turned into a threat, into something that should bring fear, not comfort.
Remember the classic song, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”? It captures this Christmas-as-threat concept well, opening with the line, “You’d better watch out.”
Indeed.
You may have heard of various disturbing winter, Christmas, and holiday traditions. One newspaper feature called, “Shock of the Old,” presented a story recently on some Christmas (and winter) traditions that range from disturbingly bizarre to horrifying.
One December visitor was a half-goat, half-demon who came to punish naughty children. Another showed up to hit kids with his bag of ashes. The common theme seemed to be threat. Be good - or else! Bad children might be eaten, devoured by the winter guest. Others would be stuffed into bags or baskets, beaten or taken away from their families.
Merry Christmas!
This is all rather extreme. It does strike me, however, that many concepts of the incarnation are just as terrifying. They might be summed up with, “God has sent his son, but if you are not good, or if you do not believe, then you will be damned for all eternity. The good kids, or the ones who believe, they don’t need to fear, but everyone else, that is most people…”
You’d better watch out!
For the most part, we have left behind traditions used to terrify or manipulate children. Why then, in Christian faith, do we sometimes hold on to similar ideas as if they are a badge of honour or orthodoxy, of “right belief”?
So much that passes as Christian theology can be summed up as threat. You’d better be stressed. You’d better watch out. Believe, or else!
The invitation to faith is not threat. The gospel cannot be presented at gunpoint. If it is presented at gunpoint, then it is not the gospel.
Instead of “You’d better watch out!” may we hear - “Good news of Great Joy for All people.”
How are you feeling about Christmas?