On Christmas
25 December 2025
Jesus the man, and Jesus the God. The Jew, who when buried, or ascended, gave root to Christianity. The sacrificed savior. Seemingly a story of contrast his whole life, and yet resolved in a way that has brought succour to millions of desperate souls for two thousand years.
To be strictly adherent to the Bible is, in equal measure, a feat of believing and of conquering disbelief.
The Saviour's very arrival begins by asking us to suspend disbelief in his creation. For we are told that Mary's conception of Jesus is as though she was a fenestra coeli, or window of heaven, by which light has passed through her to bring Jesus to her womb without breaking the glass. Her husband Joseph buries his incredulity to support her. These are relatively straightforward, if unusual, stays of disbelief.
And from belief itself there then are numerous complicated outcomes: the sword taken up by, and among, men of the faith. Brought against those outside the faith, or utilized for aims which brought misery, all in the name of God. And yes, of course, alms for the poor, the modern notion of charity, innumerable good works and actions. Belief as action – the divine wrought physical.
These consequences require a precondition because the truth is a bright vision upon which man may never clearly gaze. His limited faculties must perceive the world slightly after it occurs and much more narrowly. In this way we always see but a fraction of the whole.
The truth in darkness, of Jesus at night by the Galilee, breezes from the water lightly cuffing his robes under a sea of stars. A stillness, momentarily alone. It exists nowhere in Scripture, but it certainly happened did it not?
The suspension of disbelief is less of a jump than belief in many cases because it is a requirement of our existence. At times I have wished to receive piety, but found no answer. So while I may not find belief, at least I may hold my disbelief for a thing or two, once in a while.
And so my friends, I wish you a very Merry Christmas.