I’ve always had a fascination with Charles Dickens’ classic “A Christmas Carol.” From childhood, I’ve seen many retellings of this ghostly holiday tale of miserly transformation (yes, Muppets included), and we even got to reenact a miniature version of our own just a couple months ago. I’ve since acquired a reproduction copy of the original book and spent weeks deep diving into this writing—surprisingly, for the first time—developing a greater appreciation of the author, the story, and even of old Scrooge himself.
As this story takes me back to my youth, including how scary some of those ghosts could be, a different theme has emerged to rival those upsetting apparitions. From memories of his own lonely childhood, to a boy and girl representing Ignorance and Want, to the struggle and faith of Tiny Tim, Scrooge is repeatedly confronted with kids as the spirits push him to process his world as it was, is and may be. Through all his joyless “humbugs,” there is something Scrooge has long forgotten—or, perhaps more accurately, never fully knew. Fear has overshadowed imagination. He has lost what it means to be simply childlike.
It’s no accident, then, that those spirits point Scrooge to Christmas, the very season and celebration designed to remind us of a particularly special child named Jesus. And this child’s story was given to help us reframe our own past, present and future.
Like Scrooge, we might be haunted by our past. But a better story rings out from a more distant time: “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given,” and, “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel,” (or “God with us”). These words precede those proclaimed by angels at Jesus’ birth, “...unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. ...you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.” God with us. A baby. This should spark our imagination.
We may be disturbed by our present, becoming classically “Scrooge-like” in response to things happening around or within us. But in Jesus, we see God Himself coming as a child so we can become God’s children too. Even as He grew, rather than growing bitter, Jesus maintained innocence in an unfriendly world—living and loving others as God says we should, forgiving His enemies, giving his whole life, even to the death, so that to everyone who has “believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” If we trust Jesus, He extends His forgiveness to us so we also can forgive and live joyfully.
We might fear our future, like Scrooge forced to face his own mortality. But because of Jesus, we can find even death has no sting. For anyone who receives “the kingdom of God like a child,” He “has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus,” who is “firstborn of the dead.” Dread turns to delight as His return to life guarantees our own.
In the end, Scrooge’s “merry as a school-boy” dancing and delight represent the possibility of childlike belief and joy we can all sometimes forget—or may have never known. Of course, this can all seem like a childish humbug if we’ve lost the plot. If that’s you, ask Jesus to help you learn to trust God and love others in an appropriately childlike way. And I pray you’ll know the joy of having faith like a child in the one who came as a child.
Merry Christmas!
Scripture (ESV): Isaiah 9:6; 7:14; Luke 2:11-12; John 1:12; 1 Corinthians 15:55; Mark 10:15/Luke 18:17; 1 Peter 1:3; Revelation 1:5
