I grew up in a small town called St. Peter’s in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. Every year, around Christmas, for about two weeks the local business agents would play Christmas carols over an outdoor audio system. The holiday music was heard all over the small town of about 1500 people – even at the community rink.
I distinctly recall one Christmas when I was twelve. As I made my way to the outdoor rink, I heard the distant sound of carols in the night air. A few snowflakes drifted to the ground as I walked along. I stopped and watched the snow fall. It was beautiful, yet I was painfully aware that something was wrong. Something was missing–I felt an emptiness that I always felt this time of year. I enjoyed the carols. I enjoyed the snow. So what was wrong? What bothered me was that I couldn’t be part of all this celebrating. “Glory to the newborn King,” and “Joy to the World, the Lord is Come” were words that didn’t belong to me. I was not yet a Christian.
While at McGill University in Montreal, I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord – which was the singular most important decision of my life. Even now, some twenty years out of university I still recall that walk to our local rink – especially when I hear certain Christmas carols. The emptiness now long gone, the thoughts of that one evening make me smile since I understand why one would want to “let everyone rejoice” or why that night in Bethlehem was so divine.
Over the years as I have grown in my understanding of the Scriptures, I have learned that Jesus Christ was not actually born on December 25th. The research of respected Bible scholars places his birth at September 11, 3BC – though I have no doubt this date will live in infamy for far less noble reasons.
To tell you the truth, I have no desire to argue about the precise date of the Lord’s birth. I am just very thankful that someone at some time saw fit to celebrate the birth of the Lord.
I also understand that there is considerable emotionalism surrounding this season. Some say that since Christ was never in Christmas that we ought to take him out. Others say that we ought to do what we can to put him back in. Others don’t care. Though I must agree that it is sad when Santa Claus is more popular than the Lord Jesus Christ in a child’s heart. I do not claim allegiance to any of the above camps. I am quite thankful that the Lord lives in my heart – because no one needs to put him in any more and there isn’t anyone who can ever take him out. The emptiness of my youth is gone forever and for that I am grateful, in season and out of season.
So, I will again this Christmas watch with quiet, heartfelt thankfulness as the little figure of Linus takes the spotlight, stands on that empty stage and declares to all those taking a lone walk to some skating rink,
Luke 2:10, 11
“And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.”
May God’s richest blessings be yours during this holiday season.