Have Yourself An Ugly Little Christmas
We’ve made Christmas about twinkles, lights, stars, gifts, frenetic shopping and ugly sweaters. Maybe there is more than meets the eye — and maybe it’s an uglier story too.
The ‘Christmas Story’ is often boiled down to a nice dress up time for kids — sometimes with live animals too. Culturally dubious tea towels and dressing gowns — or now increasingly complex costumes, tinsel and somewhat twee. Often with extra characters such as space aliens and Marvels. Ironically the Christmas Story is anything but child-friendly and somewhat more adults only. As we head into Christmas proper, often approaching church services for perhaps a cosy seasonal visit, what are we actually doing and saying? Who and what are we actually remembering? For those of us who have faith, what are we celebrating and commemorating?
Whilst we remember Jesus’s birth at this time of year, he was probably more of an autumn baby and definitely a toddler by the time he and his parents were angelically forewarned to move to Egypt post-haste, fleeing a murderous tyrant. Yet in the niceness of Christmas we tend to conflate all this into one big story.
Mary was a teenager, Joseph older and honourable. He was also very kind — when he found that his fiancée was pregnant and not by him, he agreed to divorce her privately rather than expose her to public condemnation and potential punishment — death by stoning? Already this is more sensational social media expose than cute.
More intriguing still, Mary had not betrayed Joseph with any man — she’d been visited by the Angel Gabriel and a divine conception had occurred. Yet this is not the ickiness of a fleeting visit by Zeus or another rapacious classical god, it’s beyond people. Still a teenager she faced public condemnation and shame — some would have been looking funny at Joseph, others would have been looking funny at her. Gossip must have been running rife in a world where communities were smaller and everyone knew everyone else. Boldly believing she carried on.
Thankfully one of many angels in this story appears to counsel Joseph and console him. Everything is going to be all right. At the same time, to blow his mind — your wife-to-be is carrying the Saviour of the World, the longed for Redeemer who’s going to make everything right again, to bring healing, forgiveness, new life, hope, peace, eternal life and restoration. We have to respect Joseph for not completely freaking out and running for the hills. Instead he listens to God and gets on with it — he believes, he marries Mary, he accepts her growing belly and loves her and the child. (There will be other children after the miracle Christ child). Rather than mystically glowing alone, Jesus is part of a bustling, busy household where his ‘father’ dies, leaving him as chief provider and carrying on the carpentry trade.
He comes from nothing, but gives everything. Joseph and Mary have to make an arduous census trek back to their home town. The cave-like stable may have been a way of giving them privacy rather than shame. They were from the worst of the worst — not only were they from Nazareth, but Bethlehem and what good can ever come from that backwater? (They said then and perhaps we still think and shriek it in our social posts and media now).
Pity Mary. She has an uncomfortable heavily pregnant journey by donkey across Israel and then they have to hunt down a private room. The place is heaving, but they find somewhere — and the King of Kings and Lord of Lords is humbly laid in a manager, an animal feeding trough. And angels party in the skies and talking animals gather round. Cows, oxen, donkeys, sheep. Only we don’t know this. Nor do the ‘Three Kings/Wise Men’ rock up immediately. They’re travelling from Persia — following a star. It takes time.
Nor were there three. There were three significant gifts. The Magi aka glittering Wise Men/Three Kings of the story were the kingmakers of the day. If they turned up at your house, could be good news, could be bad. For Herod, bad, bad news — for just like Saul and David, God’s real King was on the Earth. Power-hungry and protective of that kingly bling, Herod sneakily asked for news of the child when they found him — so he could stake him out and murder him. Only room for one king — Herod!
In the past the adult, R/18-rated version of the ‘Christmas Story’ was acknowledged much more. As part of the Twelve Days of Christmas, a day was set aside to acknowledge the ‘Murder of the Innocents’, when Herod later on began to plot against the Christ child, by seizing and murdering all the toddlers aged 2 and under in Israel. No wonder God told them to get to Egypt quick march. How dangerous is a despot trying to set themselves against God’s plan set out in the Torah, the Old Testament, and coming into being after 400 years of silence. Whilst we may not want to see small children committing baby doll-icide a la the opening moments of Barbie, it should give us some pause for thought here. It’s not all twinkly tinsel and stardust here. It’s brutal and ugly and messy.
In spite of the horror, there is still beauty. The angels, who don’t quite know what is going on, praise God in the heavens for the unveiling of his amazing redemption plan. Then the shepherds clutching sheep turn up, surely. Same time as the kings three? Not quite. One school of thought has the shepherds as smelly outcasts who get first dibs on worshipping Messiah, the rescuer of humans. But another school of thought suggests that these shepherds were important, for they supplied the sacrificial lambs for Temple ceremonies. So if you wanted a lamb without blemish or spot, these were your guys. (Don’t annoy them). But they definitely got the party invite from the angels — and headed there. (No kings at this point with 3 gifts cos it was going to take a long time to get there).
In plays and paintings there are three diverse kings with three odd gifts — gold, frankincense and myrrh. A burial perfume for a baby? A hunk of gold to gnaw on? These blingy, costly, super expensive objects are the status symbols of their day. They reflect the kingliness of the Messiah — his right to reign and rule, the creator-God side of him, and his descent from kings like David. They also hint at his sacrifice to come — with myrrh used for making the dead more fragrant, and his priestliness — frankincense being used to anoint kings and priests. Given that Mary and Joseph are humble ordinary people, again this is weird — and mind expanding stuff.
Not only are they humble and ordinary, but imperfect people. Whilst they have a great lineage, and do their best, they make mistakes like anyone else. Like that time they’ve been up to Jerusalem for Passover and then forget Jesus on the way home — having to turn around and go back for him, only to find him teaching. They’re also forgetful — sometimes Mary treats him like a ‘very naughty boy’ (even if they did forget to scoop him along with everything and everyone else on the way home), and at other times, Mary hopes that God in their midst will bless them — such as when a wedding runs out of refreshing wine.
In the ugliness of Christmas, this is in the intrigue. God-in-our-midst was completely ordinary, there was nothing to single him out. He got on with listening and learning from Father God, and his earthily father, providing for his family when Joseph died. At the same time, he was completely perfect, without sin, without error, not ever messing up once. So that he could be a lamb without blemish, sacrificed for you and me. Like Mary and Joseph, sometimes we forget and can’t understand it. Jesus was not a blonde, didn’t have piercing Robert Powell eyes, the standoutness of the Passion’s Christ. He was an unremarkable bloke. And yet everything he did and said was remarkable — children, women, tax collectors, gentiles trusted him. The religious leaders, who should have recognised him, mostly wouldn’t or couldn’t. Like Herod, they liked their own position and power too much. Although there were leaders like Nicodemus who saw him for who he was and who he claimed to be.
Therefore, mix up our Christmas a bit this year, as you sing the carols, enjoy the season, appreciate the holidays. Less tinsel and twinkliness, and more of the wonder and awe, and ugliness.
