IF CHRIST were to be born in Ballyhaunis, just prior to the census of 2011, what reaction would be likely and who would welcome him?
Our shepherds would probably issue a cautious statement through their press office. Our rich kings would follow the light of an equally rich radio star to vent their manufactured anger at how the lack of hotel beds affects the most vulnerable people in our society; there would be calls for the minister for tourism to resign; then the most vulnerable people in our society would crawl back into the quiver until they’d be required for the next interview.
Yet from Ballyhaunis to Belfast and from Bantry to Ballybricken there are many people who cherish the birth of Jesus, his leadership, teachings and celebrity, as relevant today as it has always been.
The sentimental duvet with which we wrap our cribs smothers the revolutionary story that we encounter at Christmas. A child, far greater than any other, did not choose birth within the obscene wealth of the elite of his day. God among us chose simplicity and humanity over the jewels and comforts of fame and fortune. Ironically, we choose to celebrate Christmas as a day of excess!
The market laments unexpectedly low sales and warns us to spend or face unemployment. The festival of spending borrowed money is a contradiction of the crib. As our feast sinks indistinguishably into the bottomless mire of Saturnalia maybe we should celebrate the coming of the Christ on a different day?
Enjoying a meal and exchanging trinkets never offended the feast. Gluttony and excess does. Even for those who do not believe in Christ or God, there is an undeniable, uncomfortable truth beneath the cosy tale of a baby in a manger and everybody dropping by (angels too) bringing gifts.
The birth of the most influential and memorable person who has ever walked our earth is not a comforting overture to the classical rags-to-riches story that we like to attach to history’s personalities. There were never to be any riches in Jesus’ life.
The storyline is unique and only found in the life of Jesus of Nazareth. He was born in rags, lived in rags and was executed in rags. He was killed off but his words inspire and motivate people 80 generations later. That is a remarkable achievement among a people who, generally, could not even name their own great-grandparents. It is truly humbling for people who value perception, fame and renown above any other value. The truth of this story is that greatness is not to be found in any of the areas where we traditionally seek it.
Do any of us truly believe that the huge deposits of digital images and blogs that we have left in our memory will not be dismissed and deleted as irrelevant tosh in a century or two? A few novels and other things might survive and people in office might be mentioned in schools and universities. We might quote Joyce and Heaney as we quote Homer and Shakespeare; but we won’t live our lives according to their
words. The baby in the manger achieved far greater things than any of these.
Jesus’ legacy is never contradicted and informs even his most entrenched non-followers.
His recorded words are still employed as a yardstick by which his followers live and fail. People disagree with the Pope, the bishops; theologians argue among themselves; fanatics kill in his name, but nobody ever says that Jesus was wrong, even though the meek don't appear to have inherited the earth. But visit the crib and ask yourself: did he inherit the earth? – FMacE