The God Who Entered the Chaos: A Christmas Reflection

A Season That Invites Reflection

Christmas is a time when we tend to reflect more than at any other point in the year—for me, that reflection sometimes begins with wondering why I continue to choose to live in a place that snows. But more seriously, we think about friends and loved ones—our careers, and especially our children. We think back to memories of Christmas past, and with the New Year right around the corner, we also think about the future. We think about the family we’ll be spending time with—and those who are no longer with us to spend time with.

Personally, I think back to my childhood—how things felt so different than they do today. I think about the sacrifices made for me by my parents, the gifts so freely given at the expense of their hard work. I think of how many memories I wish every child could have—memories they and others provided for me—and how I now try to make sure my own child has those same moments, or at least something close to them.

The Reflection Beneath All Others

For me and my family, all of these reflections are grounded in something deep and central to our lives: the incarnation of the second person of the Trinity, Jesus Christ. The Incarnation is an idea we should be thinking about all throughout the year—when we take communion, when we witness a baptism, when Easter comes around, and truly every Sunday we gather for church. For better or worse, that reality receives a little extra attention this time of year.

The Story We Revisit Each Year

During this once-a-year reflection on the Incarnation, we often receive the Hallmark version of the story—one that pulls at the hearts of parents as Christmas pageants act out the role of the young virgin and her fiancé searching for a place to deliver a child. Then come the magi and the shepherds, each with their own miraculous stories of arrival and acknowledgment of the Messiah.

Often, we reflect on these events in uniquely American—and sometimes strange—ways. We sift through Santa, elves, North Poles, and Grinch stories, all while being led—perhaps despite ourselves—to consider what a moment in history this must have been when heaven touched earth. What it would have meant not only to witness such an event, but to interact with the people who stood closest to it. I’m not condemning the Santa story, even if it carries some problematic elements. But we often create so much hustle and bustle around this season that we struggle to remember why it all exists in the first place.

The Claim at the Center of Christmas

Beneath all of it—beneath the pageants, the stories, and the sentimentality—stands the staggering claim: the Creator of the universe entered into His own creation.

He who was outside time and space humbled Himself to become a part of it.

This idea would be radical enough if He had entered the ordered creation of the beginning—but He didn’t enter that universe. He entered a sinful world full of disorder and chaos.

A world where He was pursued toward death, rejected by His own people, and ultimately crucified under a pagan ruler. And He did not stumble into that suffering—He willingly accepted the most intense disorder, injustice, and pain.

He did all of this with a mission: to redeem His creation and set all things to rights.

The story goes on to tell us of the resurrection of Jesus, where that mission is decisively accomplished. And yet, as we still live with the pains of this life, many will ask—or even proclaim—that it must not have worked. The world is still chaotic. Injustice remains.

So did Jesus fail?

The continued brokenness of the world does not mean redemption failed—it means redemption has been accomplished and secured, though not yet fully realized, giving us the opportunity to imitate our Savior by bearing our crosses as we await that final vindication.

Accomplished, Yet Not Fully Realized

This is what Christians have long described as living in the tension of the “already” and the “not yet.” Already, Christ has secured victory through His death and resurrection. Already, sin and death have been defeated at their root. And yet, the full effects of that victory have not yet been fully realized in the world we experience day to day.

That tension explains why suffering still touches our lives and why injustice still marks our societies—not because God’s plan is uncertain or incomplete, but because that accomplished redemption is still being worked out toward its final fullness.

We live, then, between promise and fulfillment—bearing crosses like our Savior, not receiving instant gratification, but plodding forward in hope. Not hope as we often think of it today—not like I hope the Cleveland Browns win the Super Bowl—but a hope marked by expectation and trust in a person who will bring about what He has promised. In doing so, we carry glimpses and shadows of that coming vindication to others and, often, to ourselves as well.

So this year, when you pass along a gift or receive one, when you share a meal or retell an old story, when you visit with family and friends and reflect on the past, present, and future, center yourself in the true reason all of this exists. The King and Creator of the world came low and poor nearly two thousand years ago, gave His life, took it back up again, and has ascended to the right hand of His Father.

From there, He conquers His enemies one broken heart and revived spirit at a time, until one day all enemies will be placed beneath His feet. As we reflect on gifts, let us also reflect on the ultimate gift given in Jesus Christ—resting in the truth that His plan will not be thwarted and He will not be defeated.

The only question that remains is which side of His victory you will be on.

Until next time, stay shaped by reason, guided by faith, and grounded in Christ.

Merry Christmas.