by Rev. Mark Creech
RevMarkCreech.org
During Christmastime, my father loved making the season magical for children.
Every year, when my sister and I were small, Daddy would remind us to set out cookies and milk for Santa on Christmas Eve. On Christmas morning, I would wake with giddy excitement to find an empty plate and glass beneath the tree, right beside my toys.
One Christmas morning, I was nearly beside myself as I followed Santa’s tracks through the living room. He had stepped into the ashes of our wood-burning fireplace after coming down the chimney, leaving footprints all the way to where my gifts sat. I gathered every kid in the neighborhood and brought them in to see. They stood in awe, staring at St. Nick’s very own footprints. Of course, I wasn’t old enough to recognize that those tracks looked remarkably, in fact, identically like my daddy’s fireman boots kept in the closet at the end of the hall.
On the night Santa was to come, I would lie awake, desperately trying to fall asleep, afraid he might find me awake when he arrived. One Christmas Eve, when sleep fled entirely, I heard sleigh bells outside my bedroom window. I could hardly believe my ears. I threw the covers over my head and buried my face in the pillow, thinking, It’s Santa! It’s really Santa and his reindeer and sleigh! It never occurred to me on this occasion that the new strap of sleigh bells Daddy had hung near my stocking was meant for more than decoration.
But of all these enchantments, nothing matched the magic of Christmas critters. As the holiday approached, if there was an animal – or even an insect – nearby – Daddy would say, “Hey, hey – look at that. Do you see that squirrel on the side of that tree?”
“Yes sir,” I’d answer.
“Do you know what that is?” he’d ask. “That’s a Christmas squirrel. He’s spying on you to see if you’re being naughty or nice, and he reports back to Santa Claus. That’s how Santa gets a lot of his information on little children.”
Those are precious memories. As you might imagine, when I became a father, I wanted to pass along the same tradition.
One year, about three weeks before Christmas, when my children were still small, I took them to visit their grandparents. That day, I noticed an unusually large beetle clinging to the big picture window of their house. I called my son over.
“Hey, hey – look at that. Do you see that huge beetle?”
“Yes sir,” he said.
“Do you know what that is?” I asked. “That’s a Christmas Bug. He’s spying on you to see if you’re being good or not, and he’s going to report back to Santa Claus. That’s how Santa gets a lot of his information about those who are naughty and nice.”
My son rushed off to play.
Not long afterward, while I was inside with the grandparents and the children were outside having fun, I was startled by a sudden, loud noise from the front of the house – the picture window, I thought. “BLAM! BLAM! “ I ran to see what had happened, only to find the Christmas Bug splattered across the window like an insect on a car windshield. I stuck my head out the front door and called, “Son, what in the world just happened?”
He answered, “Daddy, that Christmas Bug ain’t telling Santa Claus nothing!”
I’m sure you’ll be relieved to know I didn’t raise a criminal. My son turned out to be a wonderful man. Today, he’s the mayor of Lucama, North Carolina.
You know, this story gives me a chance to say this: Christmas is about something very real. It isn’t actually about Santa, reindeer, sleigh bells, or Christmas critters – fun as those games may be for children. Christmas is about the Lord Jesus Christ, the One who came to make us real.
Let me say that again: He came to make us real.
Christmas is about getting real with God. And the first step is recognizing that we are sinners – fallen, broken rebels against His holy law, remarkably skilled at being double-minded, double-tongued, and double-trouble. Christ, the Son of God, the Messiah, the Savior of the world, came to transform and renew us with His saving power. We cannot overcome our depravity or experience redemption apart from Him. He was born to identify with us so that He might save to the uttermost all who trust and follow Him.
Christmas is also about getting real with ourselves and with others. When we refuse to live authentically, we lose our very souls. We must not pretend or cover up, deceiving ourselves and persuading others that we are something we are not. That was Adam and Eve’s mistake when they hid behind fig leaves in the Garden. No -God calls us to come clean and live in the truth.
The Christ of Christmas is real. He is “the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). Everything pursued apart from Him – apart from His grace and His will – ultimately proves to be an illusion, unable to satisfy the deepest longings of the human heart.
Christmas is a time to get real.
