I never truly understood Christmas growing up. It makes sense because I didn’t really believe in Jesus until college, but even still, I was a bit of a Scrooge. It just seemed like the whole thing was a bit fake.
Every made-for-TV movie I watched between Thanksgiving and New Year’s preached the same gospel: “It’s not about presents.” But then, every Christmas morning, I was inundated with presents. It didn’t make sense. Someone was lying. I’m ashamed to admit that for most of my life, that’s all Christmas was about: presents.
My parents, and probably yours, would conclude every Dec. 25 with the same nervous question: “So… did you get everything you wanted?” (which I am again ashamed to say, the answer was almost always “no”) I would be spending the money my distant family gave me before it even hit my pocket. I just didn’t care about what the holiday was about.
Which I look back now and think, Are you kidding me? Everything I wanted? Is this what we want to teach our children about life? That you can get everything you want? I remember being a kid. I never got everything I wanted. (Thank God.) My parents had the best of intentions at heart. Most do. But this is telling of our culture.
Maybe it’s America. Maybe it’s humanity at its most broken. But I shudder to think of the implications of that phrase: everything you want. Over the years, I’ve grown cynical of Christmas, gotten fed up with the shopping mall feeding frenzy and been downright angry at ungrateful people, and don’t even get me started on Christmas decorations going up in October or Christmas presents being bought on Thanksgiving. The culture and society have made me want to write off the whole ridiculous holiday.
But there’s another story to tell.
When Mary finds out she’s pregnant with the Jesus, she sings a song—a pretty interesting one:
He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his descendants forever, even as he said to our fathers. (Luke 1:52-55)
When I first read this, I swear I heard Santa Claus instantly drop dead of a heart attack. “He has sent the rich away empty …” Does that sound like everything you wanted? Not quite.
God loves the poor. He is among them. And if we are going to celebrate the birth of His Son with any sense of conscience, we must be with them, as well. As it turns out, it’s not about holiday specials and sugar cookies. Nor is it about getting everything you ever wanted. Through the dirty and downtrodden and nearly forgotten, we can learn what Dec. 25 is really about: compassion.
I caught an old rerun of "Frasier " the other night. It was a Christmas episode. On the show, Frasier meets a homeless man who tells him, rather pointedly, what Christmas is all about: “The rest of the year belongs to rich people with their fancy houses and expensive foreign cars, but Christmas, Christmas belongs to guys like us.”
Frasier forgets his wallet and can’t cover the cost of his meal. The homeless man and his friends cover it.
This is the great irony and paradox of Christmas, of learning to live compassionately:
We don’t give to the poor; they give to us.
There is a meal program on the North Side of Milwaukee, WI, called St. Bens. They serve meals six days a week, and many college students volunteer to fill up waters, pass out milk, or even just lend an ear. The conversations this holiday season stem around gratefulness and gratitude and strategies to get out of the cold. In that room, approximately 300 people filter through every night to get what for most is their only meal of the day. However, if another sees someone in need, they do whatever they can to help them. Even if it means giving one of their few belongings away to someone who needs it more.
Because of these wonderful, incredible, sincere humans, I am starting to believe in Christmas again. These people are mostly forgotten by the rest of society, but they would never forget about another human.
Christmas belongs to the poor — let’s not forget that. We should be raising our glasses to them, to the outcast and the hungry, the handicapped and oppressed. Maybe if we’re lucky, they'll let us in on the true spirit of the season.
In your hustle-and-bustle holiday, I hope you find an opportunity to do make a difference. (If you’re looking for a way to give back, check out World Vision’s Gift Catalog. It’s one of the best ways I know to reconnect with the true spirit of Christmas.) It can be as simple as purchasing $50 of gift cards to McDonald's, Walmart, and other stores, to have on you and hand out when it's needed, bring a warm meal to those without one, or even look them in they eye, treat them like a human, and lend an ear to conversation. Because there’s just something about celebrating Christmas without the poor that feels dishonest.
May we connect with the story of a boy born in a manger and find Christmas where it belongs — in humble places, like barns and dumps and alleys. This is where we’ll find baby Jesus if we’re willing to look. And maybe He will lead us, like He promised, out of our own prisons.
