“But the angel reassured them. ‘Don’t be afraid!’ he said. ‘I bring you good news that will bring great joy for all the people’” (Luke 2:10, NLT).

“He was despised and rejected—a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief. We turned our backs on him and looked the other way. He was despised, and we did not care” (Isaiah 53:3, NLT).

There needs no belaboring the point that both passages above, despite their contradicting tones, refer, in different ways, to the Christ. In the first, he is indirectly referred to by the angels in their announcement of the fact that his birth would be the source of joy for all people. In the second passage, Christ is definitely the “He”, and therefore—as grammarians say it—the subject of the passage. Our objective today will be to try to reconcile these two apparently contradicting passages. How on earth does a baby whose birth was to bring joy for all people become a person acquainted with grief, and befitting the title, “Man of Sorrows”?

To begin the discussion, we must admit the profoundness of the angels’ claim that the birth of this one child would bring joy for all people. Certain news bring joy, but scarcely so for all people. When Political Party A wins the national elections, supporters of that party rejoice, but not so supporters of Political Party B. The sentiments are the same when one party is ousted from power. We find the same thing in the classroom. Should a fellow take first place in examinations, he (and perhaps, his relatives) would rejoice, but the fellow who is first from bottom may not necessarily share this excitement. In fact, if it happens that some of the relatives of the fellow who took first position are envious of him, they might also not share his excitement. The Philistines, when they finally succeeded in capturing Samson, were definitely joyous and asked the judge of Israel to entertain them. Samson, on the other hand, felt taunted, and prayed that he might die together with the Philistines. Because what is meat for one man is poison for another, it is not often the case that a single event brings joy for all people.

That the birth and life of Jesus brought joy to the lives of many people is apparent in the Bible. Certainly, the shepherds were filled with joy (Luke 2:10), as were Anna and Simeon, at the birth of Jesus. For Simeon, seeing the baby Jesus was enough to make him die content (Luke 2:29). Anna, the prophetess, despite being an octogenarian, “praised God and talked about Jesus to all those who were waiting for God to free Jerusalem” (Luke 2:37). Mary, his mother, could not help but “treasure up all these things in her heart” (Luke 2:19). Jesus did not lose this effect as he grew up. Children were at home with him (Matt. 19:14) and the crowds listened to him with sheer delight (Mark 12:37). He revealed certain truths to his disciples, with the intention that his joy might be in them (John 15:11). At his triumphant entry into Jerusalem, the crowds went ahead of him, some shouting joyfully, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven” (Matthew 21:9)—to the disdain of the Pharisees (Luke 19:39). In fact, one time, in misguided excitement after being fed by Jesus, they wanted to make him king (John 6:15). When Jesus rose from the dead, the joy of Mary Magdalene, the other Mary (Matthew 28:8) and the disciples (John 20:20) knew no bounds.

But Bible scholars would quickly point out—and rightly so—that Jesus’ birth, life and ministry were not homogenously received with joy. From the very moment that Jesus entered the world, it seemed as though the world had conspired to reject him, time and time attempting to bring a point home, namely that he was not wanted on earth (never mind that the world was made by Him). Look at his birth, for example. King though he was, he was born in no castle. Many people think they would have believed Jesus more and had greater faith in him if they had lived in his time and walked with him. This is perhaps an illusion. Except by the Spirit (as in the case of Anna and Simeon, for example), it would have been a great struggle to believe that that boy, born in the company of cattle and horses, was indeed the Savior King. You would think that as he grew, he would finally acquire the royal abode that he was deserving of, and yet, although foxes had holes and birds had nests, the Son of Man had no place to lay his head (Matthew 8:20). Space aside, he had people as antagonists. Herod, for example, once he heard about the birth of Jesus, showed that he would tolerate no other king, a point he emphasized by arranging the massacre of all male children below the age of 2 in Bethlehem and its environs (Matt. 2:16). When he cast out evil spirits from the demon possessed man at Gadarenes, he was strangely begged to leave their city (Matt. 8:34). In another setting, he was accused of casting out evil spirits by Beelzebub (Matt. 12:24). He was attacked for doing good on the Sabbath (John 5:1-18). From his hometown, people took offence at him (Matthew 13:57); from his family, his brothers did not believe him (John 7:5). Twice, his Jewish opponents picked up stones to stone him (John 8:59; 10:31) and another time, forcing Jesus out of the city, they brought him to a cliff, intending to throw him off it (Luke 4:29). It was one of the 12, whom he dearly loved, who betrayed him. Jesus was not wrong, therefore, in his assertion that the world hated him (John 7:7). With this hatred as fuel, they were willing to have Barabbas, the insurrectionist and murderer, released for Jesus to be crucified (Acts 3:14). If you pause for a moment to picture the man in the garden of Gethsemane, prostrating in agonizing prayer, clearly wishing to escape the cross, but totally resigned to the will of his Father; and finding his backup prayer warriors deep in sleep, then you feel that it is no exaggeration to call Jesus a man of sorrows, the climax of which was the cross.

What is interesting about the antagonism against Jesus is its baselessness. Hatred, in itself, is no noble virtue, but certain circumstances justify the expression of hatred. We are told to hate evil (Psalm 97:10; Romans 12:9). It was this hatred for evil that caused Phinehas to stab the Israelite man and Midianite woman who were making out in the assembly of the Lord, an act which pushed God to make a covenant with Phinehas, although in a different circumstance, he would have been charged with murder (Numbers 25:1-13). There are seven things the Lord hates: haughty eyes, lying tongues, hands that shed innocent blood, hearts that devise wicked schemes, false witnesses who pour out lies, and people who stir conflicts in communities (Proverbs 6:16). There is some justification, therefore, in hating people who practice these things, although this hatred should be directed more towards the character traits than the persons. When we consider Jesus, however, his character (i.e., the fact that he knew no sin (2 Cor. 5:21), and no man convinced him of sin (John 8:46)), his ministry (i.e., the fact that he came to do the will of the father (John 6:38), to heal the sick, to preach the gospel, to save sinners (Luke 4:18)), one is struck with awe that he could be hated by anyone. Spurgeon is right, therefore, to say about the Christ that “from his very first moment to the cross… it seemed as if all the world were in league against him and all men sought to destroy him.” Though he lived in no ostentatious manner (although as king, he could have), though he stole no man’s wife/ cattle, though he marshalled no army, had no fine possessions, or any extraordinary good looks (which are some of the triggers of envy, and therefore, hatred), he was hated—without a cause. Even the testimonies which formed the basis of his crucifixion did not agree (Mark 14: 56) and, therefore, did not fulfil the basic condition that only at the mouth of two or three witnesses shall a matter be established (Deut. 19:15).

Now, if we focus on the matter of Christ’s birth bringing joy for all people, what emerges poignantly, first of all, is that Jesus’ birth connects all human beings everywhere. Despite our differences in space and time, the birth of Jesus, and the angels’ audacious claim that this birth is to be joy for all people speaks to a basic shared need of salvation, because of our basic shared characteristic of being sinners who fall short of God’s glory (Romans 3:23). Men’s hatred towards Jesus, rather than invalidating the claim of the angels that his birth would bring joy for all the people, inadvertently strengthens the point of our shared state of sin (and needing salvation) because it emphasizes the enormity of the depravity of man, that is, to the extent of being willing to kill his Savior, if need be, in order to keep wallowing in the comfort that sin pretends to offer. This hatred, therefore, lends credence to Jesus’ claim that men are by default lovers of darkness, rather than of light (John 3:19).

Second, for one person to be the source of joy for all people points to the fact that from the very beginning, the angels were making a special declaration that this was no ordinary child. This theme consistently features in the New Testament. His parents were overwhelmed when after three days of looking for the lost Jesus, they found him in the Temple, discussing a thing or two with the teachers of the law (Luke 2:45,46). It’s sad that Luke is unable to give us more details, for example, about what the 12-year-old boy had been doing all the while. How was he surviving? Who was feeding him? Where was he sleeping? Why was he not hanging out with other kids? I can only imagine the shock on his parents’ face when he asked them if they didn’t know that he had to be in his father’s house (Luke 2:49). As a young man, he was a source of amazement for many people. “What manner of man is this?” asked the disciples (Matthew 8:27). In his hometown, as he taught, the people could not help being amazed. This amazement triggered a long string of rhetorical questions: “Where did this man get this wisdom and these miraculous powers? Isn’t this the carpenter’s son? Isn’t his mother’s name Mary and aren’t his brothers James, Joseph, Simon and Judas? Where then did this man get all these things?” (Matt. 10:55,56). Thus, they bore witness that it was not from them that Jesus got his qualities. When he cast out evil spirits, the crowd testified that it was never so seen in Israel (Matt. 9:33). Once, when soldiers were sent to arrest Jesus, they were so struck by his oratory flair that they returned to their bosses, conceding that “No man ever spoke like this man” (John 7:46). Pilate, who was to deliver the verdict against Jesus, was amazed by Jesus (Matthew 27:14). He wondered if Jesus could not hear the charges brought against him. And of course, his resurrection from the dead, never to die again is the single most important event that distinguishes him from every other human being. Jesus is definitely sui generis, in that in everything, he has the pre-eminence (Col. 1:18).

I think that the point I would like to come out clearest in the juxtaposition of our two key texts is that the joy that the Christmas comes with (and here, I’m thinking more about the spirit of Christmas than the Christmas season), should not make us forget that it came at the giver of the joy’s expense. There are those who believe that the Christmas season ought not to be celebrated for a host of valid reasons, inclusive of which are the facts that Christ was not born in December, even (to begin with); that unlike Easter, which Christ asked to be commemorated, the celebration of Christmas is not a command; and also that Christmas has pagan origins. To my mind, this debate falls neatly in the category of food and the esteeming of some days as holier than others (Romans 14). These matters, as the Apostle Paul argues, because there are no Scriptural foundations to explicitly condemn or justify them, and because their (non)observance do not necessarily make us better or worse, are a matter of conscience (1 Cor. 8). The one who feels it wrong to celebrate Christmas should not celebrate it, while the one who feels no qualms about celebrating it may do so, even if it is at a time of their choosing (i.e., not in December). For neither celebration nor non-celebration would make a person more/ less saved.

I make a distinction between the Christmas season and the Christmas spirit for a reason. Worldwide, the latter part of December is regarded as the season of Christmas. The spirit of Christmas, however, is always alive and ever-present with us. You may not call it so. You may simply refer to it as the birth of Jesus, as the virgin birth, or something else. But it is alive, every time you thank God for sending his son to die for the sin of the world, whenever the gospel is preached, whenever a person confesses Jesus as Lord and Savior. In that sense, the good news of Jesus’ birth brings joy for all people, not just Israelites, not just those living in the time of Jesus, but those as yet unborn and those long dead (1 Peter 3:19). This spirit of Christmas is also present in Easter, for common sense tells us Jesus could not have died if he had not first been born.

What’s more, the joy from the birth of Jesus teaches us the extent of God’s love, which in turn should be a source of constant reassurance for the Christian. When the angels said peace and goodwill to all dwelling on the earth, they were announcing a unique occurrence. They were talking about something that had never happened before. They were saying, “Look, men and women, we are those who stand before God day and night. And yet, we have to admit that God is today doing something new that has never been heard of.” We learn from Paul that if God gave his son freely, he is more willing to give us all other good things that we ask him (Romans 8:32).

Joy to the World!