Dragons on Christmas?

If you ask my kids what my favorite Christmas Bible passage is, they’ll probably say, “Revelation 12; you know, the one about the dragon.” However, I’ve yet to visit any Christmas service where Revelation 12 is read (besides one that I organized in Texas many years ago). As we sing “Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright,” visions of ravenous dragons would ruin the mood. As we sing “Away in a Manger” about the tiny Christ child who apparently never cried (doubtful), pictures of babies being devoured would shatter our peace.

But behind the gentle shepherds and the lowing cattle of our sweet nativity, Satan lines up to crush Mary’s child in fiery jaws. He incites Herod to slaughter every baby boy in Bethlehem to ensure that the Messiah is eliminated before he can disrupt the status quo. He dedicates himself exclusively to ruining the ministry of Jesus by whatever means possible: dangerous temptations, religious corruption, betrayal of friends, public rejection, and Roman execution.

The dragon licks his lips as Christ arrives in the world because he is hoping for a feast, not only to gobble up God’s own Son but all God’s People as well (see verse 17). He may hate the fragile creatures as much as he loathes their mighty Creator, and he longs to crush them all.

Several years ago, my son Sam began the new tradition of adding a large, plastic red dragon to our peaceful European, hand-painted manger scene. I’m sure visitors to our home thought it a bit odd, but it served as a sobering reminder to our family that Christmas is not just a sweet tale to make us feel good about ourselves; it’s the beginning of a daring rescue mission into a world gone mad.

I’m not trying to dampen your holiday spirits. I certainly don’t want begin an austere Christmas movement reminiscent of the dour Lutherans in Babette’s Feast. I love the lights, the presents, the songs, and the pie. But I never want to forget what a war the eternal Christ threw himself into to save me. If I hadn’t gone and made such a mess of things, he wouldn’t be in that manger, and the dragon wouldn’t be drooling over the thought of devouring Him. As Christ’s first blood is shed with the cutting of the cord that binds him to his mother, I want to remember that eventually “Nails and spears shall pierce him through; the cross he’ll bear for me, for you.” And I want to remember that, “for the joy set before him, he endured the cross, scorning its shame” for us (Hebrews 12:2). The uncontainable Christ squeezed down into 6 or 7 pounds of vulnerable flesh because he couldn’t stand the thought of eternity without us.

So, bring on the lights, the presents, and the songs (even the slightly sappy ones)! Christ was born; Christ lived; Christ died; and Christ rose. So, “Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God, and the authority of his Messiah. For the accuser of our brothers and sisters, who accuses them before our God day and night, has been hurled down” (Revelation 12:10).