While [Mary and Joseph] were [in Bethlehem] , the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no place in the guest room. -Luke 2:6-7
When I was a kid, we always had biscuits for breakfast on Christmas morning. After stockings, before presents, my parents and my brother and I would bake biscuits– often colored and shaped like a candy cane, pine tree, or ornaments– and eat them along with the oranges found in the toes of our stockings. Before we could open presents, we had to finish breakfast and do all the dishes. (At least, I remember it that way.)
While we ate, somebody read from Luke 2. That’s where we find the nativity story with Mary, Joseph, shepherds, angels, and baby Jesus in swaddling clothes. Then, once the story was finished (and the dishes were cleaned up), we could get to opening presents.
Probably your Christmas mornings were different from mine as a little girl, but I’m betting you had some kind of tradition. Simple or elaborate, most of us had some way to mark a day as special as Christmas. Maybe, as an adult, your traditions have changed from childhood, or perhaps you’ve preserved the traditions over the years.
Looking back, what I most appreciate about those traditions from my childhood is the way we had to stop for a meal together and the reading from Luke. I did not always appreciate this as a child– I was usually ready for presents right after stockings and certainly could have cheerfully left the dishes for later. But how often do we really stop everything just to be together for a meal? A simple meal, at that, one that everybody could prepare quickly together without leaving one person stranded in the kitchen for hours. And included in that simple mealtime was just a few minutes to remember what led to all the stockings and presents and tree and tinsel: the birth of Jesus. It doesn’t take long to read twenty verses of scripture. A few minutes was enough.
Every year, Christmas comes and brings with it the “culture wars” questions about how to “keep Christ in Christmas.” Charlie Brown has weighed in. The Grinch has his epiphany. George Bailey has an opinion. So does Buddy the Elf. And, of course, as Christian people we should want to keep Jesus front and center.
The very nativity story makes it hard to do that, though. Bethlehem was an out-of-the-way nowhere town. An animal’s feeding trough is no meticulously assembled designer crib. Shepherds were near the bottom of the social ladder. Into this unremarkable town with unimportant people came the savior of the world, with hardly any fanfare at all. (Even the angels went to the shepherds, not the home where Jesus lay!) It was simple. Short and sweet.
Maybe keeping Christ in Christmas doesn’t mean adding anything at all, but rather scheduling a time to stop. To eat a simple meal with loved ones and take a few minutes to read the story again. To realize that in order to have Jesus Christ be front and center, we might need to simplify everything else, not complicate Jesus.
And take a few minutes on Christmas morning to reread Luke 2. Short, sweet, and simple. Just like Jesus.