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Who was this Christ child, so long ago, this namesake for our dreams of peace on earth, good will toward men? “He was the word made flesh and He dwelt among us.” And, yes, he rose from the dead and that moment made a mockery of time.
Who was this Christ child we should celebrate in such a way that every day is Christmas? He was and is law when it is decent and men are at their best. He is the kind of love that smothers hate and makes the devil and his children very angry when they lose a soul. He is God’s gift and man’s choice.
The
novelist Margaret Lee Runbeck tells how Christmas came early one year, a
good number of days before the official calendar date. She writes,
“I knocked at the door…then I heard a dear, dark voice which all of us in this house called love, calling out from her window. ‘Jes one minute…wait’ll I get on mah wrapper. Who is you down there anyway, honey?’
“I chucked to myself,” Mrs. Runbeck writes. “Lillian didn’t know who it was, but she was sure whoever it was, was ‘honey.’
You see, it’s not that hard to do, Christmas come winter, summer, spring or fall. It can and does come anytime you shout out at the world, “I don’t know who you are, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re honey. You
may be acting like vinegar, raising Cain, causing war, making good
people lonely and bitter with all your strife, but God made you to be
honey, so I’m going to call you honey whether you are acting like it or
not.”
Christmas is a crossroad where the Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man meet. It is you lighting candles of faith in a world of darkness. It is you when you are more concerned with giving than getting.
Christmas is too good to be restrained within one 24 hour period. It
is a tiny golden curl clipped from a tousled head, put in a jewel box
and given with a note that reads, “I made this for you myself.” Christmas is a little boy giving blood to save his sister and then asking, “Doctor, when will I die?” Having believed he was not just giving some of his blood but rather all of his blood.
What was it the angels said? “Do not fear!” But there is so much fear in the world today. Terrorists seem to be everywhere, and so is anxiety. But the Bethlehem-moment, the Christmas cry is still, “Do not fear!” Oh, now we need Christmas in August and July and June and May and September and…. every month of the year. Oh, how we need it.
What was it St. John wrote? “Love
has been perfected among us in this, that we may have boldness on the
Day of Judgment, because as he is, so are we in this world. There is no fear in love, for perfect love casts out fear.”
The poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote, “Hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men. Then pealed the bells more loud and deep; God is not dead, nor doth he sleep; The wrong shall fail, the right prevail. With peace on earth good will to men.”
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