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“And it came to pass”. Such a simple statement, taken from the gospel of Luke, chapter two, verse one, in which the physician-turned-historian started telling the most amazing story ever told: the story of God being born on Earth as a baby. The first 20 verses of this chapter are what Christians commonly refer to as “The Christmas Story”.
Oh, I’ll grant you Jesus probably wasn’t born in December; the early Church fathers decided to celebrate His birthday on a Roman pagan holiday to disguise it due to the persecution they were suffering. It really doesn’t matter to me; it’s become a tradition, and it’s the story that matters, not the date.
We’ve also taken the true story of a fourth century monk named “St. Nicholas”, and evolved him into the German “Kris Kringle”, the Dutch “Sinter Klass”, and finally the American “Santa Claus” (courtesy of a poem from theology professor Clement Clarke Moore, and the advertising department of Coca Cola®). I’m fine with him, too, and the Christmas tree, cards, songs, gift exchange, and all that has become part of the “Christmas Holiday” (or “Holy Day”) season.
It’s just we’ve got to keep this little phrase in mind: “Jesus is the Reason for the Season”. It’s a birthday party for Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of God the Father. What bothers me is with all of this established tradition, there are those who want to turn this time into some sort of “Politically Correct” generic “Happy Holiday”, rather than admit it is the birthday celebration for the King of all creation.
The one big difference that separates Jesus from all other religious leaders is that He is actually God Himself; He was more than a prophet, more than a teacher, but the long-awaited Messiah, the Savior of the world. He is God’s greatest gift!
Merry Christmas! God Is Good; All The Time; Amen!
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