Christmas: Clandestine Celebration

Christmas day is a celebration, which Herod must not hear of—it is a whispered celebration. What would it feel like to celebrate Christmas with a whisper?

The dead of winter seems to welcome whispers. Why is Christmas celebrated on December 25th? The winter solstice—the longest night of the year—signifies much the incarnation. Palestine, under the Roman Empire, felt like winter. The population was poor, and it suffered under heavy taxation. Selfish puppet kings ruled Israel, and the emperor was honoured almost as a god. For Israel this was a time of exile—a return to Egypt. This was the long night of Herod’s reign, and the long night of proud, honour-hungry priests. Where was God?

Into this dark winter, a child is born. Not a full-grown, adult king, but a child. The incarnation is a glorious whisper, not a shout. The season has turned. Spring is around the corner, though it is not with us just yet. The nights are becoming shorter, night-by-night. The incarnation is joyful to be sure, and yet it is not the full-blooded victory celebration of Easter Sunday. Rather the incarnation is whispered into the night. The wise men slinked away, undercover, for fear of Herod. And a dreadful slaughter of infants follows. To be sure, Herod still rules in Palestine, for now.

In the Northern hemisphere today, we celebrate Christmas at a particular point within the seasonal calendar, in the dead of winter. The Christmas festival signifies the end of death, and the beginning of new life. We whisper about new life. New life isn’t yet our full reality, for Herod is still alive and well in our world. 

This narrative raises the question: how can we celebrate advent and Christmas in a way that corresponds to this sacred story, this seasonal movement? How can we experience a strain of warmth, deep within Herod’s winter?

Here is my favourite clandestine-Christmas song: When the Glory of the Lord Returns, by Tom Wuest.

https://tomwuest.bandcamp.com/track/when-the-glory-of-the-lord-descends