Christmas through a Child’s Eyes

I folded like an accordion. I caved when confronted by the crassest of our culture. I sold my soul. And I’m glad I did.

            What did I do that was so horrible?

Thank you for asking. I played Santa at St. Andrew’s (Tucson) Christmas Festival. As a pastor I was something of a purest regarding keeping the boundaries between the sacred and the secular – no Santa, no Jingle Bells for me. My congregations were commercial free zones! I felt so righteous.

Then I was asked to play Santa. My first inclination was to refuse, but I knew the one asking was desperate as the Christmas Festival was drawing nigh (I’m such an enabler!). Also, the festival was designed as a “bridge event” for the community, a way to connect outward with families who otherwise would have no contact with the congregation. How can a church grow if there is no contact with others beyond the current church family?

Should I have said no? Perhaps, but I said yes.

Upon entering the fellowship hall I was hit by a palpable wave of love and adoration. Children’s eyes lit up with delight bordering on awe. I knew the children’s reaction had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the suit. Yes, definitely the suit.

I was reminded of the wisdom of Ian Pitt-Watson, a preaching professor at Fuller Seminary, who counseled his students to avoid the complicated sermon illustration and always favor the simple, the common, the universal. That is, rather than an explanation of how quantum physics expresses the love of God at levels we can only imagine, an illustration that serves only to highlight the preacher’s scholarly ways, a better way to express the love of God is to connect it to a little girl with her Raggedy Ann. The rag doll’s value is not counted in the cost of the cloth, thread and yarn but in the inestimable worth of a little girl’s love, imputed, credited, attached to Raggedy Ann no matter how raggedy the doll has become. Such is our worth: of inestimable value because of the lover from whom it comes.

That’s how these children loved me (as Santa). I don’t really know what to make of this experience. A part of me remains mortified that I blended the sacred and the secular, yet a part of me has a renewed sense of awe and wonder. When was the last time I looked at Jesus the way those children looked at me? What was the last time I heard the Christmas story with new ears? Heard the challenge implicit in Zechariah’s prophecy regarding his son, John? Was amazed by the fierceness of Mary’s faith in the Annunciation or was dazzled by the audacity of her Magnificat? Have I felt recently the sting of John the Baptizer’s accusation about being part of a brood of vipers? Have I dropped everything to journey to Bethlehem recently to see this thing the Lord has done for us? Have I mourned with Rachel at the loss of her children who are no more?

As the advent of the Christ Child approaches, I pray we will all take moments to look and to listen with awe and wonder. I pray we will kneel before the Christ that we may walk beside those for whom He died. I pray we may all see Jesus through a child’s eyes.

Happy Advent and Merry Christmas,

Brad Munroe