When my sister and I were in elementary school, she was given a solo in our church’s Christmas program. Each verse was sung from the perspective of an animal present for the birth of Jesus—the wonder of the nativity story extended even to the non-human creatures who were there.
I, being a few years older and much funnier, made up my own, slightly irreverent version of her verse. In the weeks leading up to the concert, I sang it with such gusto and consistency that when she took the stage that evening and opened her mouth to sing, my words came out instead of the actual lyrics.
She recovered quickly and finished her verse, and then had the gall to take the high road and not blame me for the slip-up. But the lesson was clear: our Christmas words matter. How we tell the Bethlehem story makes a difference.
A trusted friend recently mentioned the tension between the magic and mystery of Christmas, especially for parents. Does the true meaning of the holiday dim with every mall Santa visit or overpriced holiday light display? Can we celebrate the season with our children and help them reverently remember Immanuel, God with us?
The answer may be in the Christmas words we use. Words like Immanuel and incarnation. Or the titles for Jesus listed in Isaiah 9:6, linking the baby born in Bethlehem to his true identity as God of the universe. “For a child will be born for us, a son will be given to us, and the government will be on his shoulders. He will be named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace.”
Every year, our daughters play a game where they hide the pieces of the nativity scene in the Christmas tree, find them, and reassemble them on top of the piano. This provides hours of entertainment. This year, they played with multiple nativities in a game I heard them call “Also Jesus.” The babies were reunited, like the twins in the movie “Parent Trap,” after not knowing each other existed.
I will admit that Chris and I shared a laugh before quickly correcting that game. There is no Also Jesus, we were able to remind our girls. Just One. Because the Christmas words we use matter. Whether you’re 7 or 40 or 80. How we learn, and tell, and retell the story makes a difference in the hearts of our children, and in our own.
Meredith Day Flynn is a wife and mother of two living in Springfield. She writes on the intersection of faith, family, and current culture.