Christmas Thoughts

“In the Beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were made. In Him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it. ….The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through Him, the world did not recognize Him. …Yet to all who received Him, to those who believed in His name, he gave the right to become children of God—children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.” ~John 1:1-13
That passage has stuck with me this Christmas season. It has made me think about a couple different things since I’ve been in Sudan. First, the beauty of the poetic writings of John about Jesus’ coming—he doesn’t explain it dry, like a history textbook nor lofty like an analyst, but illustrative and beautiful. It is written clearly, and yet I am interested to read more. Each sentence builds on the other. Word--> Him--> life--> light--> darkness misunderstands light --> those who receive light, receive adoption.
John could have just as easily typed out a flow chart to be presented at the members’ meeting using Excel and Power Point to illustrate the processes of Jesus’ birth and the reason for Jesus’ birth and the whole Christmas story, but instead he used the power of language…a love note to the world, from God. When one wants to express something beautiful they don’t write it in a memo and spreadsheets and flow charts are not used. They instead write out poetry, so that the reader can understand the emotions in the words written. John was trying to make an appeal to the world—God was trying to make an appeal to the world—to make it clear that something great has been overlooked and this is the invitation to look again.
Christmas time, as we have come to know it, is the example of the greatest thing overlooked. We spend so much time in a buying frenzy, family frenzy, party frenzy, that we overlook what happened—the light came into the world and we, the darkness, have misunderstood it. We have completely misunderstood it. We dropped the ball, fumbled, did not collect the money after passing GO, missed the beat—misunderstood it.
The main event that hit me this year was not Black Friday, or crowded malls, but it was a girl named Lilly. Lilly is about 12 years old and comes from a poor family here in Ikotos (that is saying something because everyone is poor, but she is poorer). One morning I woke up, walked outside, and there was Lilly sitting on my porch. I said “Good Morning” and asked her if she was getting ready for Christmas. People here in Ikotos also have their way of getting ready for Christmas: re-mudding their huts, making alcohol, buying a goat, and buying new dresses, shirts, trousers, and shoes. So, I was really just making small talk with her, and not really expecting much of a response; but she replied “no, I don’t have any dress for Christmas.” Then, I asked her why that meant she could not celebrate Christmas. See, in Ikotos everyone goes to their church for an all-night celebration of singing and dancing and eating, wearing their new Christmas clothes. Those who cannot afford new Christmas clothes are too embarrassed to attend the church celebration so they just sit at home and maybe drink a soda or homebrew.
I felt prompted to talk to Lilly about the meaning of Christmas and how it really doesn’t matter what you’re wearing on Christmas, but it’s about what you are understanding at Christmas. After we spoke for a bit, Lilly left the compound, and I was left in my thoughts. I don’t actually know why she had come in the first place, but I do know that her response to Christmas sunk me. Later, I was listening to music and the song of “The Little Drummer Boy” caused me to tear. I know its just a song, but I really listened to the lyrics and thought about what the drummer boy might have been thinking on that day to see the baby Jesus. He sings of having no gift to give the baby Jesus, his new savior, the light of the world, but all he does have is his drum and his ability to play something beautiful for the new king. He probably was wearing rags like the children wear here in Sudan and he probably made his drum out of found materials (if it was in Sudan, it would have been made out of a Nescafé tin). The drummer boy probably heard of the new Messiah’s coming and probably was extremely excited from the news; but then he probably looked down at his clothes and remembered he was poor. I’m sure that he ran the scenario through his head several times before going to the manger, imagining what people would say and if the new king would even accept him. He had nothing to bring to the occasion, he smelled like the outdoors, and he looked poor. But finally it clicked and he understood. He realized that he did not need a thing… not one thing but the belief and understanding that the light had just come into the darkness. That thought overpowered him and he started running towards the manger—running and smiling, and deciding which song to play on his drum. He got there, and with adrenaline pumping, he didn’t care what other people thought, he just played for the one who mattered and played his heart out—he played a love song with passion.
That is what I want this Christmas. That is also what I want others to realize this Christmas. Whether you are in the United States, or Sudan, or any other place in the world, it is so simple: Light came -->darkness misunderstood -->those who understood are children of God—no matter what you are wearing or how many presents you have bought for others.