We begin a Christmas miniseries entitled The 3 E’s of Christmas. In this series, we are going to take three looks at Christmas. First, Incarnation, where we will explain the faith content of this holiday. Second, Charm, where we will study the influence of modernity and postmodernity on Christmas. Finally, Listen, where we will formulate some proposals to recover the contemplative capacity.
The Incarnation: A Fundamental Narrative
The West was born from the conjunction of Greek thought, the Roman order, and the Judeo-Christian religion. Without the Book of Genesis and the Psalms, Homer’s Iliad, Plato’s Republic, Aristotle’s Ethics, Virgil’s Georgics, or Cassian’s Institutions, we would not be able to understand each other. However, the cornerstone text of our civilization is not an essay or a law, but the following short story of 118 words and 536 characters in its official translation into Spanish:
“It happened in those days that a decree went out from the Emperor Augustus ordering that the entire Empire be registered. This first registration was made when Cyrinus was governor of Syria, and everyone went to register, each one to his city. Joseph also, because he was of the house and lineage of David, went up from the city of Nazareth in Galilee to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem in Judea, to register with his wife Mary, who was pregnant. And it happened that, while they were there, the time came for her to give birth and she gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn.”
The God Who Acts
Philosophical reflection deduced the need for a first unmoved motor, but it could not suspect that the absolute, to the attributes of omniscience and omnipotence, would add that of facticity. The God of revelation is a God who acts, who enters into history, who relates to men. That is why wisdom with a capital W, which is a participation in the logic of God, has a narrative structure. The deepest truths are formulated in contingent stories, and among them the story of Christmas stands out.
The Miracle of the Human Condition
Every birth supposes the appearance of someone new. The newborn is not just another example of the Homo sapiens species, but a “who” who did not exist before. According to the Jewish sociologist Hannah Arendt, there is nothing as revolutionary as birth because it introduces new freedoms into the world. That is the miracle of the human condition. That is why a birth is good news and we usually congratulate the parents. However, the unique character of each human being casts a shadow of ambiguity over his birth: the child who is in the arms of his mother today can be a hero or a villain tomorrow.
The Life of Jesus
Every narrative consists of a beginning, a middle and a middle. It is necessary to wait until the end of a dramatic work to know if it is a comedy or a tragedy. That is why the Letter to the Hebrews says: “Remember your leaders who announced the word of God to you; look at the outcome of their life and imitate their faith.” This is what Antonio Maria Sicari intends with his compendium of happy endings entitled “Thus the Saints Die.” The Church celebrates its best children not on the anniversary of their birth on earth, but in heaven.
The Luminosity of a Birth
Birth gives off a lunar luminosity; it does not spring from itself, but rather receives it from the unfolding of the entire existence. How did the life of this child from Bethlehem unfold? In a brief summary of events we can say that he grew up in a poor family in a village called Nazareth, where he worked as a carpenter until, around the age of 30, he began an itinerant life of preaching, considered blasphemous by the established power, which condemned him to death by crucifixion.
The Presence of the Living God
Some Roman and Jewish historians from the beginning of the second century, such as Pliny the Younger, Tacitus, Suetonius and Flavius Josephus, echo all this. But if we do not stop at the surface of external facts and carefully consider what the circle of his acquaintances has transmitted to us about Jesus through liturgy, literature, painting, architecture, music, the testimony of their lives and a handful of writings called the New Testament, we discover a surprising personality.
The new rabbi of Nazareth places himself above the sacred institutions of Israel. “You have heard that it was said to the ancients, but I say to you: Here is he who is greater than the temple: the Son of Man is lord of the Sabbath.” Unlike the Pharisees, his words are lively, they clarify the meaning, they touch the heart. He expresses himself with a scandalous radicality: “He who loves his father or his mother more than me is not worthy of me. He who loses his life for my sake will be saved. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.”
A Surprising Man
He has a bearing and presence capable of imposing himself on a crowd of Nazarenes scandalized by their former carpenter, or on a multitude of tough men who earn their bare necessities by trading on the esplanade of the temple. From within him springs a power that commands illness, death, the sea and the elements, and they obey him. He attracts the pure hearts of children and the simple. Wherever he goes, he leaves a breath of life. What can we call him? In this man we can sense the presence of the living God.
At the beginning of his public life, Jesus chose a group of disciples who accompanied him everywhere. After a while, he wanted to test their progress and he subjected them to a brief examination of two questions: “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” It was obvious to everyone that he was someone special, but they tried to explain it using familiar categories such as teacher or prophet. Answers very similar to those you would hear from people walking down the street right now. But Jesus is most interested in the second question: “And you, who do you say that I am?” And Peter, representing the twelve, answers: “You are the Son of the living God.”
This confession is made up of two experiences: the perception of Jesus’ uniqueness and the recognition of his divine identity. Christmas, therefore, is not just a historical event, but a mystery that continues to resonate in our lives. Through the Incarnation, God makes himself present in our history, showing us his love and closeness. In the next chapter of this series, we will explore the Enchantment of Christmas and its transformation throughout modernity and postmodernity.
With this first installment on the Incarnation, we hope to have given you a deeper insight into the meaning of Christmas and its relevance in our faith. Stay tuned for our upcoming posts, where we will continue to unravel the 3 E’s of Christmas. Happy Holidays!
