The First Christmas Reconsidered
Many believers have heard the sermon topic “The Meaning of Christmas” no fewer than twenty or thirty times and possess a thorough familiarity with the Gospels and biblical history. Yet does the meaning of Christmas consist solely in resisting commercialisation, proclaiming the Gospel, singing carols, or returning to church? When one approaches Christmas from the perspective of Advent—considering preparation, hope, the Incarnation, and the Lord’s second coming—how are these elements to be understood collectively? This article seeks to examine certain historical events around the New Testament era from the perspective of God’s covenant people, to elucidate an alternative understanding of Advent and Christmas, and to compare this perspective with contemporary observations within church communities. This essay is intended as reflective commentary rather than a rigorous exegetical study; the interpretations presented are not asserted as definitive.
I. A Nation in Exile
Prior to the New Testament, after the division of the kingdom, God’s covenant people endured several centuries of internal instability and external threat. Around 730 BCE, civil war between the divided kingdoms was imminent, creating a precarious political situation. Within a decade, the Assyrian armies annihilated Aram and Samaria. Under the Assyrian policy of forced population deportation, the inhabitants of Israel were dispersed across various regions. Judah, though temporarily spared, could not evade national collapse over a century later.
Beginning around 500 BCE, Judah experienced subjugation under three successive foreign powers. Although there were brief periods of autonomy, Judah ultimately could not withstand the military might of successive empires and suffered extensive oppression under foreign dominion. These people, who identified themselves as God’s chosen, perished under the hand of foreign rulers. To the wider world, the concept of a “chosen people” appeared almost paradoxical. Where, then, was God?
The prophets, of course, had foretold the coming of the Messiah. Yet by the first century BCE, several centuries had elapsed without visible fulfilment. Had the Messiah already come, unrecognised among them? During this extended historical period, there were rulers who ordered the reconstruction of the Temple, others who expelled pagans from it, and a number of monarchs wielding considerable authority. The people continued to look for the Messiah, yet historical developments repeatedly confounded their expectations. By the first century BCE, even as they clung to prophetic promises, they recognised that if centuries had passed without fulfilment, it was unlikely they would witness it within their lifetimes.
They appeared unable to perceive divine miracles or authoritative kingship; God seemed silent, absent from their temporal and spatial reality. Confronted by the might of empires, could Israel’s restoration still be expected? Would the descendants of David reclaim the throne? If God had long withdrawn from them, were His promises still meaningful? Amid nearly total despair, was God still present? Would His promises ever be realised?
It was precisely at this moment—when both divine promise and God Himself were called into question—that the Son of God quietly entered the world.
II. Hope Amid Doubt
The nativity narrative is likely familiar to the reader and will not be recounted here. Nevertheless, the sentiments described above, though not exhaustively precise, are broadly reflective of historical reality. Even Jesus’s disciples initially expected the Messiah to be a national liberator; how much more would the people, who had endured centuries of national collapse and exile, eagerly anticipate His coming? God’s silence and Judah’s despair, followed by the emergence of hope, are exemplified in the brief account of Simeon in Luke (Luke 2:25–34).
Simeon lived centuries after the last prophetic promise. His hope was not merely personal but embodied the cumulative hope of his family and community across generations. Many preceding generations had never witnessed the realisation of God’s promises. Simeon may have anticipated, like his ancestors, that he would die without seeing the Messiah. Yet he became one of the few who saw the Messiah, witnessing within his lifetime the fulfilment of long-held familial, communal, and national hope.
Thus, although Simeon declares that God may now “let [him] depart in peace,” he was not necessarily advanced in age. To behold the Messiah with one’s own eyes, to hold the holy infant, and to witness the fulfilment of God’s promise constituted an indescribable satisfaction—a lifetime of hope realised. It is therefore entirely understandable that the sight of the infant Messiah prompted him to proclaim: “Now, Lord, in accordance with your word, you may let your servant depart in peace, for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all nations: a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for the glory of your people Israel.”
III. Awakening Humanity in an Imperfect World
From this perspective, the significance of Christmas lies in the fulfilment of divine promises in circumstances that appear to offer only the faintest glimmer of hope; long-awaited expectations are not frustrated. Today, believers maintain an analogous hope regarding the coming of God’s kingdom. Over the past two millennia, the saints have devoted their lives to anticipating the Lord’s second coming, yet none have witnessed its fulfilment within their earthly lifespans. Christmas reminds us that the first coming of the Messiah occurred precisely when humanity was on the brink of despair, thereby enabling believers to hold fast to hope for His eventual return, irrespective of circumstances.
Thus, the meaning of Christmas must be grounded in the realisation of hope following patient expectation. Such waiting entails the struggles of faith and the questioning of God amid doubt. Persevering through periods of divine silence refines endurance and deepens faith. Today, believers who encounter the sick, the impoverished, or the oppressed may likewise ask: Does God see? God is not solely a personal deity; He is also sovereign over the world, actively participating in it and exercising authority within it. Yet God may seem absent from historical developments, from the truths taught in youth, from the suffering endured by the marginalised, or even from judgements executed in the name of justice. It is precisely under such circumstances that hope becomes indispensable.
When churches discourage believers from questioning God, insisting solely upon gratitude, from where does hope arise if it is not forged in the crucible of divine silence? When believers confront trials and are met with a lack of empathy—when their struggles are dismissed by the formulaic assertion that “God controls all things”—is that truly exemplary faith? In contemporary contexts, it may indeed be socially inconvenient to voice doubts, yet the church ought to be the community most aware that present reality does not supersede the ultimate fulfilment of God’s promises.
Therefore, the church must not settle into complacency, allowing gratitude to displace the eschatological hope entrusted to it. After the fervent emotion of revival meetings fades, believers must move beyond preaching merely “for the church” and return to the Gospel that has the power to awaken humanity and sustain hope.