Christmas in One Word: Rescue

By Pastor John Erickson

If you stripped Christmas down to one word, what would it be?

Presents might get a few votes. So would family, joy, peace, and perhaps exhaustion.

I would choose rescue.

Underneath the decorations and traditions is the announcement that God has come toward a world that cannot fix itself. Jesus has entered our darkness.

Christmas is not simply a beautiful scene to look at. It is the beginning of a rescue that reaches all the way to the cross and the empty tomb.

God comes to us

Matthew's account of Jesus' birth connects his name with saving his people from their sins. It also identifies him as Immanuel: God with us.

Those belong together.

The child is not only evidence that God has noticed our trouble from a distance. In Jesus, he has come near.

We do not have to climb high enough, become impressive enough, or organize the world well enough to persuade him to care.

He takes the initiative.

That should unsettle the idea that Christianity is mainly advice for people who already have the strength to follow it.

We need more than advice. We need forgiveness, reconciliation, and a life we cannot supply for ourselves.

The Christmas story begins with God's gift.

Darkness is real

John introduces Jesus as the Word who became flesh. He speaks of life and light, and of darkness that has not overcome the light.

That is not a denial that the world is dark.

There is cruelty, injustice, loneliness, and grief. There is also the brokenness I contribute through my own choices. It is easier to identify the world's trouble than admit my part in it, but Christmas will not let me pretend I only need rescuing from other people.

Sin damages our relationship with God and one another.

The child in the manger comes into that reality. His life will reveal the Father's character, his death will confront sin, and his resurrection will announce victory over death.

The tenderness of the birth story belongs to a costly mission of love.

The light offers a direction

Jesus later calls himself the light of the world and invites people to follow him.

That is a more substantial promise than a brief improvement in mood.

His light gives life and direction. It reveals what is true, exposes what needs to change, and leads us into relationship with God.

Receiving him does not mean that sorrow disappears or that a person who struggles with depression has failed to follow. People who love Christ still need care, companionship, and sometimes professional help.

It means darkness no longer has an uncontested claim on our future.

We can face what hurts without concluding that hurt is all there is.

We can confess what we have done without deciding it must define us forever.

The Savior has come into the very place where we need him.

Put Christ at the center

I appreciate the symbolism of a candle placed at the center of an Advent wreath.

The point is not that the object itself carries spiritual power. It is a reminder about the shape of our lives.

It is easy to fit Jesus into whichever spaces remain after everything else has been arranged. A little prayer here. A service there. Help when a problem becomes too large.

But if he is Lord, the center belongs to him.

That may change how I use my time, respond to conflict, spend money, or treat someone who has no obvious benefit to offer me.

His rescue is not permission to remain the sole authority over an otherwise unchanged life. It brings us into a new relationship.

We receive his love and begin learning to live from it.

A gift received becomes a gift shared

One of the things I love about candlelight is the way a room can be illuminated from one flame passed onward.

The first candle does not become darker because another one is lit.

It is a helpful picture of what we are invited to do with the light of Christ. We receive something we did not create, and then we share it.

That can include speaking about Jesus clearly. It can also include a patient conversation, an act of generosity, or a welcome offered to someone who expects to be overlooked.

We are not the savior in that picture. We are people helping others encounter the Savior.

There is freedom in that. I do not have to become the source of light. I need to remain close to the One whose light I have received.

Receive what you cannot earn

Perhaps this Christmas has brought your need into sharper focus.

You are tired of pretending. You have tried to manage the darkness and discovered that determination alone is not enough.

You can bring that honestly to Jesus.

You do not need an elaborate speech. You can ask for mercy, forgiveness, and help learning to follow him. You can tell someone trustworthy that you would like to understand more.

The best gift of Christmas is not another thing to fit into a crowded life.

It is the One who comes to give us life.

The decorations can remain. Enjoy the food and the people you love.

But remember the word underneath the celebration.

Rescue.