Christmas, the feast of the Incarnation, is here again. My family and I always rejoice in its arrival, the time in which we reflect with renewed anticipation the future peace on earth, promised by a savior who brings good will toward sinful men. We love the traditions: the carols, lights, gifts, that special feeling in the air that eludes my ability to describe each December. Now for the third year in a row, another event marks our observation of the Advent season, reading through Winter Fire: Christmas with G.K. Chesterton by Ryan Whitaker Smith. Though not intended as an overt pitch for this book, it is one you should pick up a copy of. I make mention of it to point out the reflection for day 9: “On Christmas as a Declaration of War.”
War in its most basic nature is a confrontation of ideas. Wars of ideas grow into wars of words, which grow into wars of policy. Left unresolved, those mature into wars of military action. The Christian truth claim—that men are alienated from God through sin, and reconciled through Christ—is at war with human pride, the root of all sinful activity. Lucifer fell from heaven because of pride, and kindled arrogance in the hearts of humanity over the subject of forbidden fruit, thus launching the first shot in earth’s war with its creator. Those who follow toward that fallen angel’s ultimate end do so in slavery to the same most basic character fault that fights continually to dominate us all.
The claim that a child could be born of a virgin, that God could inhabit human form, that a man crucified was raised to life is offensive to those of us bound by rules of space, time, and physics. Skeptics dismiss such as nothing more than a fable. In defying our limited, corporeal understandings, the hypostatic union of Christ as fully God and fully man offends the prideful nature of mankind.
Rich Mullins wrestled through this beautifully in one of his final songs titled Hard to Get.
“Do you who live in eternity hear the prayers of us who live in time?”
The incarnation was, and is, a declaration of war on a world in which men want to be their own kings, the masters of destiny, holding what they believe to be eternal reign despite the passing reality of every single life. The proxy king Herod the Great slaughtered an entire generation of Judean boys in the first counterattack against the incarnated Christ. Herod, as Chesterton wrote of in The Everlasting Man, felt the swaying of towers when news of the eternal king reached his ears. This birth was rightly noted by C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity as “the story of how the rightful king has landed, you might say landed in disguise, and is calling us all to take part in a great campaign of sabotage.”
My wife and I feel those words more profoundly each year. In the pagan neighborhood in which my family and I live, dark Halloween décor throughout the entire month of October far outpaces Christmas lighting in December. This visual reference reminds that the destructive gods of this age lure men into darkness, denial of reality, death, and despair now just as they have throughout all of history. The world around us brags of its enlightenment, self-assured that the arc toward justice and salvation lay in humanity’s will and hands. As in all generations, pride is unconstrained by historical era. The same demons that drove people to hellacious ends in antiquity drive moderns to the most debased acts and outcomes today. But Christmas comes each year to remind every man, woman, boy, and girl that our age will pass and an eternal age will come. The baby who came into the world humbly at the beginning of the Gospels departs victorious over the grave, commanding believers to preach the truth and teach the nations to obey the King of Kings. The humble means through which we first met the Christ child do not connote humble ends, for He literally split time in half, declared Himself God, and promised to return and retake full dominion of the universe He created.
The world warred with Christ from His first moments in the manger. It wars with Him still, intent on defeating the rightful ruler whom it views as a usurper. Despite the most fervent attempts, rebellious generations of humanity remain unable to bring an end to the observance of Christ’s entry into this world in human form. We celebrate not the birthday of Herod the Great, nor Caesar Augustus—the mighty men of their day. History most vividly remembers those who conquered. Thus we remember the babe for whom there was no room at the inn—and declare war anew with each recitation of the wonderful words Merry Christmas.
Author’s Note: You can tune in to a discussion I had with Ryan Whitaker Smith about Winter Fire and G.K. Chesterton on the Finding Your Spine podcast. Audio and Video Links.
Editor’s Note: Do you enjoy RedState's conservative reporting that takes on the radical left and woke media? Support our work so that we can continue to bring you the truth.
Join RedState VIP and use the promo code MERRY74 to receive 74% off your membership.
Join the conversation as a VIP Member