What's in a Name?

The scriptures referred to are Matthew 1:18-25.

My wife and I watched a very charming and delightful new Christmas movie. I say “new” but it actually came out last year for the holidays. I guess with everything going on that year we missed it. Anyway it's a story about a redheaded boy in Finland who goes on a journey to find magic and discovers a talking mouse and a friendly reindeer and a village of elves and becomes...Father Christmas! Which we should have worked out from the title, A Boy Called Christmas. Which, by last count, gives Santa more origin stories than the Joker. But it is a wonderful story based on a book by the wonderful author Matt Haig, who has written other books for both children and adults.

If I have one quibble it is a line at the end when a child asks the storyteller, her aunt, played by the marvelous Maggie Smith, “Is that really how, properly, Christmas really began?” To which the aunt replies, “Oh, well, it must be. You see I never lie.” Within the world of the film, it works beautifully. Except that earlier in the story within the story a character says, “Listen. The only thing in life that is simple and clear is the truth. But it can be painful.” When asked if the pain of loss ever goes away, the character says, “No...But you learn to live with it. And you get stronger because of it. And that's the truth.” It's pretty obvious that speaking the truth is one of the chief morals of the story.

So, sorry, no, that wonderful tale and the others with Santa and Rudolph and singing snowmen and all the rest are not the truth about how Christmas began. They may, like that last quote, contain truths. They may talk in vague ways about faith, hope and love, but not tied to any specific reasons that justify everyone having those feelings. Because these stories are like comfort foods. They make us feel good. But like comfort foods, they can end up being not all that good for you, especially if you make them your main diet. They can divert you from real nourishment for the spirit.

Christmas isn't named after a boy in Finland. It comes from Christ's Mass, the worship service commemorating the birth of Christ, in Greek, Christos; in Hebrew, Messiach; in English, the Anointed. And for what did God anoint him? That we learned in last Sunday's gospel. The angel tells Joseph that the child conceived in Mary comes from the Holy Spirit. “She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” He is anointed to save his people, not from the Grinch, not from the Bumble, not from Oogie Boogie, but from sin. Which points to the painful truth of the climax to Jesus' story: the cross.

That is not something people like to think about at Christmas. They want to think of tinsel and trees and lights. They want to think of eggnog and hot chocolate and white chocolate and dark chocolate. Not dark sins. Especially not their sins.

In fantasies our big problems are monsters and evil sorcerers and witches. In science fiction, our big problems are aliens or robots. In truth, it is ourselves. Look around the world for what's really causing our problems. Nobody here but us humans.

And the cause of all of our problems isn't some special group of humans. Then we could get rid of our problems by getting rid of that group. Again that's how it's done in fantasies. Just send all the orcs and wraiths back to Mordor. Just destroy the evil empire. Just put on the magic glove, snap your fingers and all the bad guys turn to dust. Try that in reality and you end up instead with apartheid, reservations, concentration camps, massacres, total war, and genocide. And humanity is not the better for it but the worse. Because the fault is not just in some people but in all of us.

We are not perfectly wise. We are not perfectly good. But we like to think we are wise enough and good enough to take control of everything. And through our knowledge and technology we can control more and more. And yet things keep getting worse. Because we can also do more damage. Our ancestors couldn't destroy all humanity. We can. And all because of something we have known for millennia. The Greeks called it hubris, arrogance, the hero's fatal flaw. We can destroy ourselves but we can't save ourselves.

Who can?

It's all in the name: Jesus. In Greek, Iesus; in Hebrew, Yeshua. Which in English means “Yahweh saves.” God can save us.

But how?

Again in fantasies, it is by finding the magic sword or ring or amulet and killing the bad guys. And we have tried that in the real world over and over again and it doesn't work. We invented the sword and the longbow and the gun and the missile and the atomic bomb and—evil still exists. And what's more, evil can also use those things.

So what does God do instead?

He doesn't send us a magical item or a weapon to save us. He sends us his son. And he doesn't come as a warrior or even an earthly king. He comes as a teacher and a healer and...more. He comes not to get rid of evil by killing bad guys but by transforming them into good guys.

As a teacher, he both reinforces what the prophets said centuries earlier and reinterprets other things in the moral law. It is not enough to observe the letter of the law if you ignore the Spirit behind it. It's not enough to not murder others; you mustn't direct your rage at them or insult them or dehumanize them. (Matthew 5:21-22) In fact God's law, like the Ten Commandments, can be summarized in two principles: love God with all you are and all you have and love your neighbor as you do yourself. (Mark 12:29-31) And your neighbor isn't confined to those you know or like. It can be a stranger lying half-dead on the road. (Luke 10:29-37) And, Jesus says, you are even to love your enemies. (Matthew 5:43-48) Because that is what God does. And we are to be like him.

As a healer, Jesus demonstrates both love for God and love for others. He heals all who come to him for help. If their problems are physical, he cures their disease or fixes their disability. If their problems are mental and they are wrestling with their demons, he banishes what is tormenting them. If their problems are moral and spiritual, he forgives them.

But he is more than a teacher and healer. He is an example of how God wants us to live. He speaks truth. He acts in love. He doesn't lead an army. He doesn't kill anyone, even those who do evil. In fact, when he is confronted by soldiers sent by those in power, he offers himself to save his disciples. (John 18:8) This is so unlike the usual behavior of the leader of a rebellion that the soldiers stumble all over themselves. (John 18:6) And when he faces the representative of the evil emperor of that time, and is asked if he is a king, Jesus says if his kingdom was of earthly origins his followers would be fighting to free him. (John 18:36) In fact, earlier, when one of his followers did draw a sword to save him, Jesus rebukes him (Matthew 26:52) and then heals the man he wounded. (Luke 22:51) And later, from the cross Jesus asks God to forgive his executioners. (Luke 23:34) That is love.

But history is littered with the corpses of good men. What is different about Jesus?

Again it's in the name. When telling of how the angel reassures Joseph about the coming child, Matthew sees this as a further fulfillment of an old prophesy found in Isaiah, about a son whose birth would herald peace: “A virgin shall conceive and bear a son and they shall name him Emmanuel.” Which, Matthew points out, means “God is with us.”

If Jesus was just a good man, his teachings might live on; he wouldn't. And we would be in the same quandary as before. We've got tons of advice on how to live as good people. We know what to do but we can't do it. We need the power to do so. But the man who had the power to heal people, mentally, physically and morally, to transform us into the people God intends us to be, would be in his grave. If he were just a man.

But if he is God with us...

Jesus said that Yahweh is the God of the living, not the dead. (Matthew 22:32) And Jesus didn't just heal people, he raised the dead: Jairus' daughter, the son of the widow of Nain, and Lazarus. (Mark 5:38-42; Luke 7:11-15; John 11) And he didn't just speak in parables, he came right out and said, “I am the resurrection and the life.” (John 11:25) If he didn't rise from the dead, and convince his demoralized disciples it was him and not a ghost, they would never have written down those words. They never would have proclaimed it to the world. They would have stayed in that locked room until it was safe to return to Galilee and obscurity. And we wouldn't ever have heard of Jesus.

The truth is that the first recorded celebration of Christmas didn't take place until 336 AD. But within the first century Christians were worshiping on Sunday and calling it the Lord's Day because that's the day he rose. (Revelation 1:10) If Jesus hadn't defeated death, we wouldn't be celebrating his birth.

Jesus rose again to life. That is our hope.

And then he poured out his Spirit on his disciples. And they spread the good news that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, anointed by God to save people from their sins, is risen from the dead and offers eternal life to all who trust him. And they continued to do so even when facing those who need the fear of death to keep people in line. That is faith.

True faith, true hope, and true love are not based on a holiday that is supposed to magically create those things. They are based on a person, Jesus, on what he said and did for us. And Jesus, not more toys, not more eggnog, not more TV specials, is what we need.

And we don't need the “Christmas spirit.” We need Christ's Spirit, God with us and within us, guiding us as we walk in his footsteps, teaching, healing, and proclaiming the good news of the Prince of Peace. Peace: in Greek, eirene; in Hebrew, shalom; which in English means not just the cessation of conflict but complete well-being. When enough of us follow the teachings and live the life of Jesus, and our goal is the complete well-being of everyone, both friend and foe, there will be peace on earth. And that's the truth.