“In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.2 (This was the first census that took place while[a]Quirinius was governor of Syria.) 3 And everyone went to their own town to register. 4 So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David.5 He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born,7 and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.” Luke 2.1-7
It’s always fun to think about celebrating Christmas in summer. But I have never really found it to be a huge success. I just asked Siri, and we are 143 days until Christmas—143 days until our world celebrates the birth of the Messiah, until we have Christmas programs and snow in some places, when our culture is consumed with consumerism but also with giving to those who are in need. Just the spirit of Christmas stirs something in our Western culture—a sense of hope, excitement, and well-being.
Today, as we read this passage, Christmas has just happened. The birth of Christ just fell upon us without a huge amount of fanfare, lighting of Advent candles, or personal spiritual preparation. Reading the story anew in Luke, Christ was just born. And where I sit, as I write this in summer—August, to be exact—it’s cool this morning because of rain but typically very hot during the day. No sweater or jacket weather. No snow falling around evergreen trees or carolers singing on the streets (if that is actually still a thing!).
My point is, the mood is all off. It shouldn’t seem like Christmas has just come. Even in the story itself, there is much we build up in anticipation of Christ’s birth, but in truth, just reading from Luke’s Gospel, it’s significant but doesn’t look like New York’s Rockefeller Center!
Let’s review this account: a census was required of the entire Roman world. Joseph took his pregnant wife, Mary, to Bethlehem because this was his hometown, and he was a member of the line of David. They arrived, the baby came, and was placed in a manger (presumably inside a barn) because there were no guest rooms available. Now we will get to the angels, shepherds, wise men, and fanfare, but for now, that’s it. Christ came, and it was really uneventful—kind of like Christmas in summer. It happened when no one expected it, to a couple no one thought would bear the Son of God.
And yet, God came near, as Max Lucado titled a book once upon a time. God. Came. Near. No fanfare is needed when God shows up. Be it in a castle or a cradle, a mansion or a manger, when God appears, people will know it and take notice.
This is God’s greatest gift to humanity—Himself. It’s not unlike the allotment He gave the Levites. He did not give them land like the other eleven tribes; He gave them His presence. And this is what God gives us—Himself.
And even though it’s Christmas in summer in my reading, and the world is unaware, Jesus makes an entrance to earth that will shape all of humanity. His life changed billions. Will it change yours?
“O Lord God, thank You for loving me. Thank You for allowing me to find strength and purpose in Your name. You have given me life; even in the midst of battles, You help me overcome. Your birth in Bethlehem two thousand years ago changed everything. I praise You for that selfless act of love. Come now, Holy Spirit, fill me with Your power. For You are good, and Your love endures forever.” Amen