For someone who finds it difficult to imagine how big one square meter is (yes, that’s how bad I am with Math), I was blown away with what I read in a science magazine — that approximately 1,000,000 (1 Million) earth size planets can fit into our sun. Honestly, I found great diffciulty in trying to wrap my mind around this reality. Graphically, I could not picture it in my mind. A million earth-sized planets? How big could our sun be?
Then I was completely floored when my wife told me that our sun is considered only as an average-sized sun. If this is true, can you imagine how big a giant-sized sun would be?
Now, consider further that if our sun is just one of the billions of stars in the milky way galaxy and that there are billions of galaxies in our universe. Can you imagine how big our universe is?
Perhaps this kind of thinking led a bunch of atheistic scientists aboard a space shuttle some decades ago to arrive at one unanimous conclusion: Gazing at the expansive and seemingly endless space before them, they all concluded, albeit hesitatingly, that for such a massive and unthinkable reality, there has to be a Creator out there, somewhere, somehow. And this Creator, they argued, has to be far bigger than what he created.
But this unthinkable conclusion, isn’t the most remarkable.
You see, this big, massive, large, colossal, and immensely-huge Creator they referred to, isn’t an impersonal force confined in the heavens, like an over-stuffed giant ala “Jack and the Beanstalk” perched idly on the clouds gleefully observing our day-to-day mundane and pitiful existence.
Two thousand years ago, in one ordinary and cold December evening, this enormously huge and powerful Creator, moved by so much love for His creation, dismounted his throne in the heavens and quitely slipped into human history, enveloped himself in human flesh — bald and toothless with a chubby cheek and stubby fingers and toes and all — wrapped in swaddling clothes, in a stingy stable, in a prickly manger, surrounded, not with glory, but with animal manure, and made Himself completely vulnerable to the unavoidable discomfort attached to our distressful human condition in this hopelessly fallen world.
That is what Christmas Day is all about.
It is not about a chubby guy on a red suit. Or about Frosty. Or about mommy waiting for her kiss under the mistletoe. Or about your 13th month pay. Or reunions with old friends. Not even about long awaited family get-togethers.
The aforementioned are not bad things, mind you. But they do not make Christmas, Christmas.
Christmas is about the extraordinary becoming ordinary. It is about the glorious becoming plain. The pristine becoming sullen. The untouchable becoming an arms-reach away.
This is about a big God becoming small for you and me.
So the next time you hear “Jingle Bells” booming through the mall speakers, pause for awhile and remind yourself of what Christmas is all about.
It is all about Jesus. And He is Emmanuel — God is with us!
A blessed Christmas to all of you!