This Christmas feels a little different than Christmases in the past. There’s a little more excitement, a little more anticipation of what I’ll be getting than there has been for a long time. It’s not because I have no idea what my wife is getting for me or how many presents will be under the tree. Whatever it is will be will be less than $30 and probably add up to approximately four gifts—all of this stipulated by the Maki Family gift exchange list and budgetary requirements. Christmas hasn’t held much anticipation for me since my teen years when I learned to play it cool like my parents. That and the evolution of family gift giving policies designed to hold back the materialism of our culture have helped to make Christmas happy, joyful, family-oriented and fattening but have severely limited the anticipation of what’s to come. But this year is different because this year I’m anticipating a newborn son.
I can’t help but feel that this puts me in a somewhat unique position when it comes to considering what Christmas means. After all, the anticipation of a coming baby was basically what the Christmas story is about. Almost. There’s something that Mary and Joseph knew about their baby that ups their anticipation to heights I’m not sure I will ever relate to. Jesus wasn’t just the next piece of their family, a continuation of their family lines, a step up in society and economic status, a child who would grow up to be someone they could be proud of. Mary and Joseph knew that their newborn son was going to be the Messiah. The Savior. Of the World.
Mary and Joseph spent the first Christmas wondering about what was to come. What kind of man would this Messiah be? How would he save them? Would his people finally be free of Roman oppression? Would he make their fields more productive, their armies stronger, their people more respected in the world? Would there be war or would he conquer peacefully? Would they all become rulers or would there be no one else left to rule? What will the world be like when he is done?
I am sure the anticipation of all these things kept Joseph and Mary, the shepherd and the wise men awake with excitement for many nights that first Christmas. But in these days of corporation-driven celebrations and adult sensibilities we don’t find ourselves anticipating Christmas very often. For us Christmas is a time of remembrance, a time of looking back and being thankful for what God did that day. Maybe that’s why God orchestrated for Christmas to be so close to our New Year. Because the New Year still brings that sense of wonder of what’s to come. It’s the end of the old and the beginning of something else. Something that may be more of the same, but just might be gloriously different as well.
I know there are those whose collars ruffle when others wish them a “Happy Holidays” instead of a “Merry Christmas”, but maybe the two holidays together come close to what the first Christmas was really like. Christmas wasn’t a memorial, it was the day everything changed and the world became a new place. What hopes will be fulfilled this next year because of Christmas? What wars will cease, what sorrows will be quenched, what pain will be soothed because of Christmas?
As for me, I will be laying awake at night during the holidays wondering what kind of person my son will become and what kind of father I will be. May your nights be more restful than mine but may you also experience a sense of wonder at what kind of person you will become this year and what kind of Father our God has always been. And may you have a merry Christmas—and a Happy New Year.