I’ve always been fascinated by the idea that people who live in the Southern Hemisphere celebrate Christmas in the middle of summer. For me Christmas is so deeply linked with snow, fires, darkness outside, that I just find it impossible to get my head around Christmas with hot sunny days, and a barbecue on the beach – despite Australian friends vehemently claiming that is the best, if not the only way to spend Christmas.
Of course we have no idea when in the year Jesus was born, and even if it was midwinter, December 25 in Bethlehem is still not a time when you tuck yourself inside with a log fire. We know that Christmas was celebrated on December 25 in Rome from the time of the Emperor Constantine (336) (who first accepted Christianity as the official Roman religion). In the Eastern Empire it continued for a long time on January 6 which may have been the previously preferred date. It didn’t become a major festival until 500 years later. There are a number of theories about where December 25 first came from but no clear evidence for any of them.
So there’s lots we may be attached to about Christmas that has nothing to do with the birth of Christ, starting with the date! And in our heads we may recognize that much of what we think of as essential to Christmas is in reality the accumulation of centuries of tradition, and some of it is quite recent. There is nothing wrong with that, but we do need to be on our guard against beginning led off track by such traditions. Our cosy Northern Christmas around the fire leads naturally to an inward focus, with an emphasis on family and close relationships. The fact we are celebrating a birth makes that sense of intimacy even more compelling. Maybe that’s why I have such a hard time with Christmas on the beach – it just doesn’t have that intimate feel for me.
A feeling of intimacy in our connection to Jesus as we celebrate his birth seems entirely appropriate, regardless of how we get there, and whatever weather we might associate with it. But the story of Christmas doesn’t stop there. It’s not only about intimate relationships and bonding together, it’s also about looking outward. That’s why our celebration of Christmas starts with a nativity, a birth, and ends with an epiphany, a showing off to the world.
The “magi from the East” have their own layers of tradition added, from their status as kings, their number, to their names, origins and skin color. But beyond any of those details they represent a world totally distinct from, and alien to, Israel, Judaism and every domestic detail about the birth of Jesus. In Matthew’s account of Jesus’ birth (Mt 2:1-12) the prophesies of Isaiah (Is 60:1-6) are played out in technicolor detail – this is a God for the whole world (as Paul went on to emphasize – Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6). His message will reach to the ends of the earth, however strange and different they may be.
So at the end of this season we recognize that however comfortable we are in our homey Christmas world, that world extends beyond what we experience, what we are acclimatized to, what we understand. This birth is something completely beyond our imagination. It is a birth that changes everything.