Editorial: Will the Christ be stolen from you this Christmas?

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The headline gets right to the point: “Thieves taking the Christ out of Christmas. Literally.” But the story isn’t another installment in the long saga of the so-called “Christmas wars” (which, by the way, conservatives apparently are winning.) 

Turns out, America is experiencing a rash of burglaries from nativity scenes, according to the news website Religion Dispatches

knox newEditor Marv KnoxThieves steel their nerves on the periphery of parks, churchyards, manicured lawns and other public places where the Holy Family resides. And then, sometime between dark and dawn, they rush in and steal the Baby Jesus.

But that’s not all. Some Christological kleptomaniacs even burgle the Babe from store shelves. For example, shoppers who want to buy a manger at Scheels Home & Hardware in Fargo, N.D., will discover a sign that tells them: “Please ask for Baby Jesus.”

Nativity nabbers have struck from California to Minnesota to New Jersey and New York, as well as up to Boston, where one crèche has been robbed three times, Religion Dispatches reports.

Redeemer robbers didn’t start heisting the Holy One this Christmas season. Awhile back, I reported on the BrickHouse security firm, which created the “Saving Jesus” program. BrickHouse will provide crèche owners a free GPS device they can hide on or imbed in the Jesus figure. An owner of a stolen Savior receives a text or an email, reporting the nativity nabbing. Then the system enables the owner or police to track the robbers and retrieve the Christ Child.

All this information about literally “taking the Christ out of Christmas” poses a question: How do we allow others—other people, circumstances, activities—and, worse yet, ourselves to steal the Christ from us at Christmas?

You don’t need to look far to find Christians for whom Christmas is anything but a joyous season. In fact, for many folks, it’s the most painful time of the year.

Some sources of sorrow steer straight at our hearts. We remember absence. We think of family and friends who have died, as well as divorce, strained and estranged relationships, war and other calls of duty, illness and distance. Naturally, we experience sadness in this season, when the intensity of all emotions is heightened and when loss or absence of loved ones feels all the more acute.


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Similar feelings trail behind disparate experiences of loss—jobs, security and health come readily to mind. You can think of others. They may not have anything to do with Christmas, and we may feel them every other day. But when they contrast with apparent—real or otherwise—happiness all around, their pangs stab sharply.

So, sadness at Christmas sometimes is unavoidable and completely understandable. Like other seasons of life, the goal simply may be to survive, to hope for happier seasons to follow.

But for many of us, the failure to experience joyful Christmas is self-inflicted. We do this to ourselves. We crowd out glad tidings with bad vibrations, which resonate from dissonant chords of our own composition. Culprits include:

Pressure of perfection. Sometimes, we emphasize the wrong things about Christmas. We idealize it to be “just so.” We want everything to be perfect. Perfect decorations. Perfect gifts. Perfect cards. Perfect parties and meals. Even perfect spiritual events, such as cantatas and Christmas Eve services.

Of course, nothing is perfect. When the reality of our accomplishments fails to match the romanticism of our aspirations, we wind up disappointed. And even when the trappings of Christmas are “practically perfect in every way,” we realize perfect isn’t good enough.

We need to relax. What if we all aspire to a “good-enough” Christmas? Maybe we’ll find more energy for joy, love and gladness.

Forced frivolity. Feigning happiness because it’s expected is exhausting. Of course, Christmas points us to the source of deepest joy. But joy never denies sorrow, hurt and sadness. Christians can be joyful about Christmas without all the external trappings of happiness.

When we attempt to project only happiness because we believe only happiness will do, we strain credulity. And even if we fool everyone else, we don’t fool ourselves. Bearing untruth is a heavy spiritual burden.

So, let us take joy in remembering the birth of our Savior. But let us not pretend that birth papers over all our present realities.

Too much of a good thing. Sometimes, we overdo Christmas, don’t we? Do you remember children who experienced the worst moments of the year on Christmas afternoon or evening? Too many gifts, too much celebration, too many sweets, too much attention. The little body—not to mention the little spirit—simply couldn’t sustain the excitement. And it all came crashing down.

Of course, preschoolers aren’t the only ones who suffer from too much of a good thing. Adults likewise go overboard. And usually, the more we whip up Christmas excitement, the more we feel we’re missing something. This, of course, leads to the final Christmas-stealing culprit …

Too little of the best thing. Between shopping and wrapping, parades and parties, festivals and cantatas, mailing cards and decorating the yard and a million other details, we can lose track of reality. We declare, “Jesus is the reason for the season,” but even well-meaning Christians can get so busy and/or distracted we miss Jesus in all the hubbub.

A handful of days stand between us and Christmas. Can we set aside time each day to reflect on the depth and breadth of God’s love expressed when our Creator took on human flesh and ultimate sacrifice? If we celebrate faithfully, then no matter what happens to the baby in our front-yard manger, nobody will be able to steal the Christ from our Christmas.


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