Reclaiming the Wonder of Christmas

Dr. Spencer R. Fusselman

In the rhythm of the Christian calendar, few seasons are as fraught with contradiction as Advent. We label it a time of peace, yet we fill it with a frantic chaos of obligation. We call it a season of reflection, yet our minds are often cluttered with financial anxiety, social performance, or the quiet ache of loneliness. But perhaps the most dangerous threat to our spiritual vitality during this season is not distraction, but familiarity.

We suffer from a spiritual numbness born of repetition. We have heard the account of the manger, the shepherds, and the star so many times that the shock of the Incarnation has worn off. We approach the nativity scene with the casual indifference of a museum patron viewing a painting they have seen a thousand times. We think, “I know this story.”

However, the Apostle Paul reminds us in Philippians 3:1 that repetition is not tedious; it is a safety mechanism for our souls. The story of Christ’s birth is not a static fable; it is a living, dangerous, and dangerously beautiful interruption of history. To approach Advent properly, we must strip away the veneer of holiday sentimentality and stare directly into the blinding light of the miraculous. We must move from being passive observers of a holiday to active owners of the Advent truth.

To own Advent, we must first recover a theology of Awe. We live in an age that demands the demystification of the world. We rely on science to explain our biology and logic to govern our decisions. Yet, the narrative of Luke 1 forces us to confront a God who refuses to be bound by the laws of nature He created.

Luke presents us with a God of the impossible. We see this in the physical realm: an elderly, barren woman conceiving a prophet, and a young virgin conceiving the Messiah. Zechariah, the priest, stumbled over this reality. He looked at his aging body and his wife’s history and calculated the odds. His math was sound, but his theology was flawed. He was looking with natural eyes at a supernatural God.

Mary, conversely, demonstrates the response of faith. When confronted with the biologically impossible news that she would carry the Son of God, she did not appeal to logic. She appealed to the character of God. The angel Gabriel’s declaration that “with God nothing will be impossible” (Luke 1:37) is the thesis statement of the Incarnation.

The miracle of Christmas is not merely that a baby was born; it is that the Infinite became an infant. The Architect of the universe confined Himself to a womb. The One who spoke galaxies into existence learned to babble. This union of deity and humanity—the hypostatic union—is the greatest miracle of all time. It is a sign (in Greek, sēmeion) and a display of power (dynamis) intended to shatter our self-reliance. If God can bridge the infinite gap between heaven and earth, is there any situation in your life too complex for His intervention? To own Advent is to look at the "dead" areas of your life—your broken relationships, your hidden addictions, your deepest fears—and believe that the God of the virgin birth is still the God of the resurrection.

In order to recover our sense of Awe, we must choose to see God for who he is! He is, the alpha and omega, beginning and the end, He is the creator and master of the universe, the sustainer of life, and thus He is larger than life itself.

Once we recover our awe, the natural outflow is Rejoicing. But this is not the fragile happiness of the season that depends on perfect gifts or harmonious family dinners. It is the rugged, defiant joy of the Magnificat and the Benedictus.

In Luke 1:68-79, Zechariah prophesies about the purpose of this coming birth. He does not sing about a silent night; he sings about war and victory. He declares that God has visited His people to redeem them and to save them “from the hand of all who hate us.” The birth of Jesus was a military strike against the kingdom of darkness. Sin, death, the devil, and the flesh were put on notice the moment Christ drew His first breath.

This theological reality changes how we live. Zechariah says we have been delivered “that we might serve Him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before Him all the days of our life.” This is the crux of the Advent response. We do not serve God to earn His favor; we serve Him because His favor has already arrived in the person of Jesus. We are no longer slaves to the fear of judgment or the fear of death. The "Sunrise from on high" has visited us, not to expose us to shame, but to guide our feet into the way of peace.

The world will try to reduce Christmas to a slogan. We are told to "Keep Christ in Christmas," but a slogan is insufficient for a soul-deep transformation. You must do more than acknowledge Him; you must own the reality of His coming. You must internalize the victory.

How do we do this practically? How do we wipe the dust off our spiritual lenses and see the manger with fresh eyes?

1. The "Audit of the Impossible" (Recovering Awe) Stop living as a functional deist who believes God created the world and then left it to run on its own.

• Action: This week, take 15 minutes to write down three areas of your life where you have stopped praying because you stopped believing God could intervene. These are your "Zechariah moments"—places where you are looking at the "old age" of the problem rather than the power of God.
• Application: Repent of your disbelief. Pray specifically over these three areas, prefacing your request with Gabriel’s words: “Lord, I believe that with You, nothing is impossible.”

2. The "Liturgy of the Ordinary" (Service Without Fear) The text reminds us that we are saved to serve Him in "holiness and righteousness." This isn't about grand gestures; it’s about sanctifying the mundane.

• Action: Choose one "ordinary" task this week—washing dishes, the morning commute, or a difficult meeting at work—and intentionally dedicate it as an act of worship.
• Application: As you do the task, whisper a prayer of ownership: “Lord, because You came to serve me, I do this task in Your name, without fear and with a grateful heart.” This turns a chore into a liturgy.

3. The "Sunrise Intercession" (Spreading the Light) Zechariah described Jesus as the light for those "sitting in darkness." You cannot own Advent if you hoard the light.

• Action: Identify one person in your sphere of influence who is currently "sitting in darkness"—whether that be grief, confusion, or unbelief.
• Application: Do not just pray for them; pray light into them. Send them a text, write them a note, or buy them a coffee, and explicitly share a specific encouragement based on the hope of Jesus. Be the "precursor" like John the Baptist, preparing the way for the Lord to enter their situation.

This Advent, refuse to be bored. Refuse to be anxious. Stand in the terrifying, beautiful awe of a God who became flesh, and let that awe erupt into a joy that the world cannot explain and cannot take away. The King has come. Let us serve Him without fear.