It didn't feel much like Christmas. The gray and brown shops were still gray and brown, no cheerful decorations or colored lights anywhere. There where no Christmas carols, no Christmas trees, no parties. And to top it all off, it was cold. So there I was chilled, miserable, and wishing I was at my Grandma's Christmas party in sunny Australia.

A Christmas More Gray Than White

I had been teaching English in China for just over a year, and at Christmas and Easter more than at any other time, I was struck by the tangibly different cultural heritage of the Chinese. It wasn't just the lack of outward adornments; we could do with fewer Santas and cans of beer in Australia too. The naked storefronts reflected the barrenness of my students' Christless hearts.

There is not much to celebrate at Christmas if you don't know that God curled himself inside a womb for nine months. There is no cause for joy if you live unaware that the love that sustains us each moment of life became a man. So it was for my students.

But not for me. Even if the Siberian wind could cut through two layers of thermal underwear, it was still Christmas. I for one was going to celebrate Jesus' advent, with or without help from the surrounding culture. He put the sparkle in my life. I could probably spill a little Christmas cheer into cold classrooms.

And so my classroom began to echo with "Jingle Bells" and "Hark! the Herald Angels Sing." The students loved it, sometimes staying after the bell begging to sing "just one more."

I loved it too. "What does 'hark' mean?" the students wanted to know. "How about 'God and sinners reconciled'?"

The questions kept coming when we got to the story of the first Christmas. "What's a manger?" they asked. There was a moment of puzzled silence when I explained the baby had been laid in a feed trough for cattle. The exact relationship between Mary, Joseph, and the infant likewise raised a few eyebrows. Finally, a girl in the back raised her hand. "Who is that baby?" she asked.

"Western Cultural Festivals Program"

At Christmas week it was the "big noses" not the baby who were the focus of the first ever "Western Cultural Festivals Program" at the university. The classroom was packed to overflowing a good half-hour before 10 big-nosed Westerners trooped in, toting overhead projector, guitar, and assorted Christmas paraphernalia. The buzz of anticipation turned to applause. The Christmas show had begun.

The students soaked in every drop. They were in fits of giggles at the actions that accompanied the "Twelve Days of Christmas." Those assigned to the partridge in the pear tree good-naturedly endured the laughter.

As they listened to the Christmas story read from a storybook, the college students seemed childlike. They wondered what each turn of the page would bring. This old, old story was new to them that night.

The final notes of "O Holy Night" dropped away into a reverent hush. Hope had put her heart into it. The notes soared, and faces in the audience began to register that this night, this child, were sacred.

Scott took Hope's place on the stand, holding four small candles. The three red ones, he explained, were for the angels, shepherds, and wise men. "What does white represent?" he asked. "White represents purity," he agreed with the shouted answers, "not death like it represents in China." They murmured agreement. "This child Jesus was the only totally pure person who ever lived." He lit the candles and turned the electric lights off.

We began the final carol. Students sang along, their faces just visible in the soft glow of the candles and overhead projector. "Silent night, holy night," we sang together. "Christ the Savior is born," I sang to them, praying as I did that they would come to know this Savior's love.

"Son of God, Love's pure light." The candle flickered and gleamed. Outside the wind roared in the darkness. Inside, wide-eyed students wondered at this sacred celebration, this holy baby.

In this solemn joyous moment I wondered too. I wondered at the God who came so far from home to love us. This God had sent me around the world to refract a little of that light to these students he loved so much.
I rubbed my hands together against the cold. Warmth welled up from within. "This is Christmas!" I could have shouted. "This is it!"

I'd rather be here than Australia.

OTHER COLUMNS:
November 15, 2009 - Bringing Christ to French Guiana
November 1, 2009 - Walking the edge
October 18, 2009 - Watch what you say
October 4, 2009 - Proposing a new proverb
September 20, 2009 - Fear and trembling
September 6, 2009 - Elwyn
August 23, 2009 - Where did the Bible go?
August 9, 2009 - The public school: a local mission field
July 26, 2009 - Astonishing the judges
July 12, 2009 - Letting the past go
June 28, 2009 - Line up
June 14, 2009 - The path to spiritual growth
May 31, 2009 - A tribute to one of my heroes
May 17, 2009 - Silent soldier
April 19, 2009 - Operation Resensitization
April 5, 2009 - The temptations of ministers
March 8, 2009 - Conversation over shoes
February 22, 2009 - By their plurals you shall know them
February 8, 2009 - What is missing from your retirement plans?
January 25, 2009 - Turn the page
December 28, 2008 - Abba, Father
December 14, 2008 - Elementary truths
November 30, 2008 - The illusion
October 19, 2008 - Acting like a toddler
October 5, 2008 - Don’t miss this
September 21, 2008 - Foolish schemes
September 7, 2008 - God’s hand is everywhere
August 24, 2008 - The dance
August 10, 2008 - Strange land
July 27, 2008 - God’s amazing grace
July 13, 2008 - A best seller
June 29, 2008 - My grandfather’s clock and worship
June 1, 2008 - Reclaiming the name
May 4, 2008 - God is not our fairy godmother
April 6, 2008 - Success: what is it and who can measure up?
March 9, 2008 - Need to know
February 10, 2008 - The top three myths of singleness
January 13, 2008 - By invitation only
December 5, 2007 - Yes, Abbie, there is a Jesus
November 18, 2007 - 10 Ways to be a good Christmas customer
October 21, 2007 - The dividing line
September 23, 2007 - What do you fear?
September 9, 2007 - A life well lived
August 26, 2007 - To murmur, or not to murmur
July 29, 2007 - The cross and the Christian
July 15, 2007 - Turning the other cheek: still a valuable biblical principle
July 1, 2007 - Why the tie?
June 3, 2007 - The death of a son
May 6, 2007 - A prayer for the dying
April 8, 2007 - The omnipresent God
March 11, 2007 - Do the Amish have superheroes?
February 11, 2007 - What’s your black history?
January 14, 2007 - The split branch
December 31, 2006 - The house of regret
December 10, 2006 - The redemption of the innkeeper
November 26, 2006 - Too many choices
November 12, 2006 - Break the bashing habit: Learning to love the unsaved like Christ does: November 12, 2006
October 15, 2006 - Be ‘salt and light’ this Christmas!: October 15, 2006
September 17, 2006 - Who is a legalist?: September 17, 2006 Issue 38
July 23, 2006 - God speaks through our brokenness: July 23, 2006 Issue 38
June 25, 2006 - 'What I am looking for in my church leaders'