"Do Not Suppose That I Have Come to Bring Peace to the Earth": On the Suppression of the Gospel at Christmas

One of the most troubling mis-translations in the history of English Bible translation (at least in terms of its popular acceptance and impact) is the King James rendering of Luke 2:14 as "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." Despite the fact that nearly every modern translation has corrected this unfortunate translation, properly narrowing the scope of Christ's ministry to bringing peace "to people on whom his favor rests," the universally conciliatory rendering found in the KJV is etched on the minds of millions of the English-speaking world. Christmas, it is concluded, is primarily about tranquility and harmony everywhere.

Lest I be unduly critical of the KJV, I must concede that this problem is not limited to the modern English-speaking world. It seems, in fact, that this idea stretches all the way back to the first century. On at least two occasions we find Christ himself correcting this very misconception:

• Matthew 10:34--Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.

and

• Luke 12:51--Do you think I came to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but division.

What is my point? My point is that the Christmas holiday, which has come to be understood by the world at large as a time for suppressing religious differences and pursuing peace at all costs, is actually one uniquely suited for gently but firmly pushing the antithesis of the Christian worldview among its opponents. For earnestly reminding the unbeliever that he is enjoying God's gifts without acknowledging his person. For compassionately informing the unbeliever, in Isaiah's words, that "there is no peace for the wicked."

Hopefully I've added enough adverbs in the previous to prove that I am not understanding Christ to say that we should be pulling swords in the advance of the Gospel. But if swords are drawn against us as we give out the Gospel, we need not imagine that we have somehow failed. Indeed, this may well be an indication that we have succeeded. Because Christmas, like the Gospel, brings peace only to those on whom his favor rests. All other peace is imaginary. In a very real sense, Christmas should be as offensive as the Gospel itself, because Christmas is the Gospel.

MAS

How My New IPod Is Salvaging Christmas

Pop Quiz: Where can you go to find an ecumenical hodgepodge of postmillennial liberal theology, liberation theology, veneration of Mary, strange doctrines of angels, and just about every known 4th-5th-century Christological heresy?

A. A meeting of the World Council of Churches
B. The annual meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature
C. The Church Fathers
D. The CD collection of Christmas Music in my living room
E. All of the Above.

Answer: E. All of the Above


My wife and I got ourselves a new IPod for Christmas--our first. I know, I know, you're all thinking two things: (1) Wow, is he ever behind the times! and (2) It's not Christmas yet! Unfortunately, I can't do much about the first problem, but I'll explain the latter. Our favorite music of the year is Christmas music, so we graciously allowed ourselves an exemption from the usual rigidity of the "wait until Christmas morning" routine in order to fill the home with the sounds of the season. I had no idea how much of a delight it would be--not just because of the pure, crisp sounds that accompany the absence of any media (tapes, CDs, etc.), but also because of our newfound ability to be selective in the songs we hear from a given album.

Christmas has become, unfortunately, the most ecumenical and syncretistic of all holidays, and nowhere is this trend more glaring than in Christmas music (and I'm just talking about the self-consciously religious variety). The pooled efforts of all the "Christian" denominations and sects, while successfully producing some of the most beautiful of all music, has also given us some very bad theology. Worse, this bad theology has been carefully preserved in a popular form of sacrosanct existentialist traditionalism that one opposes only at great self-peril. (I can already hear the ad hominem cries of "YOU GRINCH, YOU!!" in the comment section.)

At any rate, I'd like to encourage all who might be reading this today to exercise theological discernment in using this IPod function, and, for those of you who select music in your churches, to persevere in the painstaking but valuable exercise of eliminating verse 2, or verses 3 and 5, or maybe even whole songs from your traditional repertoire, and then replacing them from a very large pool of less familiar, but more orthodox pieces.

Let's work hard this year to close the loophole of theological ecumenism that survives in the form of traditional Christmas music.

MAS