Article
Comment
Christmas survival
9 min read

Navigating your reality of Christmas

Recounting how Christmas changed for her, Lianne Howard-Dace re-evaluates the story and experiences of the season.

Lianne Howard-Dace is a writer and trainer, with a background in church and community fundraising.

A shopping street is crowded by taxi cabs and buses while above it a Christmas illumination of an angel hangs over all.
Jamie Davies, via Unsplash.

When I became a Christian thirteen years ago, I had to figure out how I might blend the sacred and the secular and rediscover what Christmas meant to me. 

Each December, millions of people celebrate this occasion, without faith or religion necessarily playing a role. Nearly 90 per cent of people in the UK celebrate Christmas each year, despite only around 46 per cent of people identifying as Christians and only 5 per cent regularly attending church.  These people create memories for their children because they cherish the ones their parents created for them. They decorate their house because it feels good to break up the darkness of winter with a riot of light and colour. They gather with their loved ones because it’s great to have an excuse to catch up. They eat and drink together because there are few pleasures greater than enjoying Yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes with your nearest and dearest. These experiences may even be quite spiritual, though they won’t always be recognised as such. 

Of course, the secular Christmas has taken on a mythology of its own. The image I have painted above is true, but it is not the whole picture. Whatever our beliefs, we need to be careful not to make an idol of the “perfect Christmas”. Not every family can afford to eat lavishly. Not everyone has people to celebrate with. For some, late December may mark a different anniversary altogether, and be a hard time of year. Even as someone who would readily say they love Christmas, I have had my fair share of family and romantic dramas that have made some years hard.  

If all you’ve ever known each Christmas is a turkey roast and visits from Santa, how can you look beyond the gift-giving and feasting which you have previously focused on, to discover the Jesus narrative within Christmas? You do not have to discard all those other things if they bring you joy, but you will start to notice that there is more going on in the marking of this holiday than you had previously considered.  

Underneath the tinsel and baubles you will find Mary and Joseph in a cattle shed, with the infant Jesus lying in a manger. Perhaps there will be animals, and visitors bearing gifts as well. And you will think that you know the story. You’ll remember your role as a shepherd in a school play and playing silent night on the recorder. You’ll remember that Christmas is all about the birth of Jesus. And Jesus is the son of God, or something like that? 

An all-powerful God could have revealed themselves to the world in an infinite number of ways. They could have come as a giant, towering over everyone. They could have arrived in a fiery chariot pulled by snow-leopards. They could have come riding a robot, ready to overthrow the Romans. 

If the school nativity play is your primary reference point for what Christianity has to offer your life, what does it really tell you about Jesus, and why he matters? Familiarity breeds contempt. So, many people see the nativity scene year after year and dismiss it out of hand. The son of God being born as a baby 2,000 years ago is just a fairy tale. It blends in amongst the snowmen and reindeer, as just another motif of the festive season. 

The nativity has become deeply sanitised and is so far removed from our modern way of life in the Global North, that for most it can be hard to see what it is trying to tell us. And if you never enter a church or meet any Christians, who is going to show you? Even as someone who was inquisitive and interested in spiritual things, for a long time, I compartmentalised the ‘churchy’ bit of Christmas as something for other people.  

In looking again at Christmas I have found that yes, it tells us a lot about Jesus. But also, it tells us so much about God the Creator. An all-powerful God could have revealed themselves to the world in an infinite number of ways. They could have come as a giant, towering over everyone. They could have arrived in a fiery chariot pulled by snow-leopards. They could have come riding a robot, ready to overthrow the Romans.  

But instead, at a time when 30 per cent of infants didn’t live to see their first birthday, God comes to earth as a baby. A tiny human with a soft bit on the top of his head and blurry vision, who can’t stay awake for more than an hour or so, and needs his nappy changed every half hour. That speaks to me not of a God who is far, far away in some magical realm, or a God who wants to control and oppress us, but of a God who deeply understands and respects the human experience. Who is right in the amniotic fluid, and the blood, and the crap of life, with us. 

Believing that Jesus is not just the Son of God but also, somehow, Godself at the same time, can take some serious mental gymnastics when you approach it as a cerebral exercise. But when you allow yourself to see and feel the stories afresh, and ask yourself what each of them is revealing about God, God’s relationship to us and God’s relationship to our world, it can start to make an odd kind of sense.   

I remember how full my heart was when I learnt that the name you’ve maybe heard Jesus called in carols – Immanuel – actually means ‘God with us’. For me, discovering this gem hidden, tucked away beneath what I thought I knew about Christmas, was extraordinary. Because, God had been with me all along. 

God was with me that first disorientating Christmas after my parents’ divorce. God was with me when I was 19 and randomly went to Midnight Mass after four gin and tonics. God was with me when the dog ate our gingerbread house, roof and all. And God was with me when I laughed at my nephew trying his first Brussels sprout. 

But the incarnation – the humanity of Jesus – being so pivotal to my faith, I actually find great comfort in envisaging Jesus’ birth as messy and complicated, as the rest of us. 

When I think about what it means for God to become a flesh-and-blood person, I find it can be helpful to imagine the humanity of the nativity. To add a layer of realism we don’t often see. Now, I have never given birth, but unlike many childless, or childfree, people in the West, I have witnessed a birth. With the confidence gained from having endured childbirth twice already, when my mum went into labour with my brother, she refused to go to hospital. I think her exact words to my dad were, ‘The midwife can ******* come to me’.  

This happened early one June morning in 1992, and I, aged six, was awoken around 6am by my mum’s screams. Going to investigate what on earth was going on, I was surprised to find my nan open the door to my parents’ bedroom. She told me that the baby was coming, and that I should go and occupy myself by getting ready for school.  

Having had the birds and the bees talk at a relatively early age, I was quite keen to get a good look at what was going on. I couldn’t see much, as there were four or five adults crammed into the modest master bedroom of our terraced house. But I could see my mum in the birthing position, I could sense the intense nature of what was happening. And, even after my nan closed the bedroom door, I could hear the noises. Few on-screen depictions of birth have come close to really capturing what happened in our house that morning, even on my beloved Grey’s Anatomy.  

I went downstairs to make myself a bowl of cereal. I have no idea what my then three year-old sister was up to at this point, but it’s quite possible she slept through the whole thing. After watching some classic 90s kids’ TV (Playdays, anyone?) I went and changed into my little grey skirt, white polo shirt and navy sweatshirt to get ready for school. I then went to brush my teeth, only to be confronted by a disembodied umbilical cord in our bathroom sink. I must have made a commotion at this stage, because I remember the midwife coming to explain what this peculiar mass of blood and veins and tissue was, and suggest that I brush my teeth over the bath on this occasion.  

My mum couldn’t avoid hospital completely, and she and the baby went off in an ambulance; she for stitches and he for routine checks. As they were bundled off, my nan and dad came downstairs carrying the double mattress which had just welcomed my little brother into the world. It was practically soaked through and they balanced it on top of the rotary airer in our garden to dry in the spring sunshine. Of course, I delighted in the opportunity to regale my whole class with all the graphic details of this experience when I eventually arrived at school. 

It seems to me that if Jesus himself is not spared a painful, bloody death, it’s unlikely to me that Mary would be spared a painful, bloody birth. Let’s not forget that the gospels were written by men, who were likely removed from the messy women’s business of birth, and perhaps wouldn’t have seen how powerful including this might have been. 

Perhaps people find it respectful to narrate the birth of Christ in a clean and painless way. If Mary is the virgin mother of Christ, or even immaculately conceived herself, then surely she would’ve been spared the birth pains which Eve inflicted on her sisters? But the incarnation – the humanity of Jesus – being so pivotal to my faith, I actually find great comfort in envisaging Jesus’ birth as messy and complicated, as the rest of us. Perhaps Mary had terrible morning sickness throughout her pregnancy like my sister, perhaps Jesus was born earlier than expected like my cousin, perhaps he had the cord round his neck like me.  

We can take what is good and true and life-giving from wherever we find it during the Christmas period. 

It would be easy to end this article by saying that once you become a Christian and you know what Christmas is really all about, you should become worried about it being secularised and not taken seriously. You should drastically change your own behaviours and practices around Christmas. But this would miss the fact that God was already with us all along, even if we didn’t realise it.  

For those of us with a foot in both camps of the sacred and secular Christmas, the journey doesn’t end when we find faith. There are certainly things we’ll want to re-evaluate - the rampant commercialism of Christmas for one thing - but we don’t need to throw the baby out with the bath water. Having unpicked what we thought we knew about the Christian Christmas, we can rebuild, reconnect and redefine what Christmas means to us now. We can create our own traditions and work out how to interweave them with those of our friends and family who may not share our faith.  

I’ve never actually been to church on Christmas morning, because there are traditions in my family that I do not want to miss. The croissants and jam we eat for breakfast in our PJs every Christmas morning are a sign of God’s abundance. I will find a lull in the day, when others are snoozing or watching TV, to pray a prayer of gratitude for them. I will have spent the month leading up-to Christmas attending services and events to help me reflect on and anticipate the coming celebration of Christ’s birth. I’ll also have eaten a chocolate every day to help me count down to the day itself. And after we’ve had our Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve (very Scandinavian, I know), I will go to Midnight Mass. That is the moment when it works for me to really immerse myself in the faith aspects of Christmas. 

We can take what is good and true and life-giving from wherever we find it during the Christmas period. We can celebrate loved ones reuniting, and that the days will soon become longer, not in spite of what we now know about God and Jesus, but because of it – because of the richness and new dimensions it adds to our lives. When we know that everything is a gift from God, it makes the presents our friends and family have chosen for us all the more significant, not less. 

Article
Character
Comment
Leading
Politics
9 min read

Jimmy Carter: five takeaways from a life well-lived

Lessons for budding politicians and the rest of us.

Roger is a Baptist minister, author and Senior Research Fellow at Spurgeon’s College in London. 

Jimmy Cater stands on a convention stage looking out over the crowd.
Accepting the presidential nomination, 1980.
Carter Center.

The year was 2014. Jimmy Carter was writing his concluding remarks for a new book of reflections to mark his 90th birthday. He and Rosalynn had already been married over 68 years. He wrote: 

“The life we have now is the best of all. … We are blessed with good health and look to the future with eagerness and confidence, but are prepared for inevitable adversity when it comes.”

Amazing. 

Of course, I am partial when it comes to Jimmy Carter. He was one of a small handful of people who I’ve found to be genuinely inspirational. Here was a man who seemed to epitomise decency, hard work, public service and humility. 

Yet his failure to be elected for a second presidential term led to him leaving the White House to calls of derision and a common assessment that he was, ‘the worst president ever!’ By contrast, his subsequent work as a peacemaker, housebuilder and humanitarian was exemplary.  

Since his death on December 29 a great deal has been written. From factual obituaries to celebratory eulogies the column inches have been vast. The tributes have been fulsome. 

“He was a committed public servant, and devoted his life to promoting peace and human rights. His dedication and humility served as an inspiration to many, and I remember with great fondness his visit to the United Kingdom in 1977.” 

King Charles 

 

 “… he taught all of us what it means to live a life of grace, dignity, justice, and service.” 

Barak Obama. 

 

“… he truly loved and respected our Country, and all it stands for. He worked hard to make America a better place, and for that I give him my highest respect.” 

Donald Trump 

In more recent years his time in office has been subject to a re-evaluation. His presidency in no longer seen as the debacle of a ‘hapless and weak’ leader that it was caricatured as for so long. Not given to short-termism and often ahead of his time, as Stuart Eizenstat wrote in 2018, ‘[he] delivered results, many of which were realized only after he left office.’ 

So, what are the lessons that Jimmy Carter’s life can offer budding politicians and, indeed, the rest of us too? What is there to be learnt from this life well-lived in which Playboy Magazine, the Guinea Worm and a ‘killer rabbit’ all feature? 

Here are five takeaways from Carter’s life and experience. 

# 1. You can never control what happens

There is an apocryphal story in which a journalist asks Prime Minister Harold Macmillan what the most difficult thing was about running the country. Macmillan’s insightful, if fictional, response was genius, ‘Events, dear boy, events!’ 

In many ways Carter’s election to the White House was clearly a reaction against the events that had engulfed the previous administration. He was very definitely not ‘Tricky Dicky’ Richard Nixon. Yet it was to be events that undermined his presidency. 

From double-digit inflation of over twenty per cent to the oil crisis and the soaring price of fuel following the Iranian revolution, the economy was not in good shape. His policy was ridiculed as ‘stag-flation’ (low growth, high inflation) and the experience of ‘gasoline lines’ alienated many who had supported him. 

The nation’s anxieties about energy were only further heightened by the Three Mile Island nuclear accident in 1979. 

In many ways Carter was ahead of his time on environmental issues. He had solar panels installed on the White House roof. His successor, Ronald Reagan, had them removed. 

Then, when an Iranian mob seized the US embassy in Tehran and 52 Americans were held hostage for 444 days, the clamour was for something to be done. The attempted rescue mission was an unmitigated disaster. Two aircraft collided on the ground in the Iranian desert and eight service personnel were killed.  

It all added to the narrative that Carter was not up to the job.  

He was president at a particularly difficult moment of history and was himself a hostage to events. Sometimes you can do your very best, make the best calls available to you and still lose.  

Part of the reassessment of his time in power is that his economic strategy did work, it was just that Reagan benefited from it.  

It is also believed that there were politics involved in the timing of the release of the hostages from Iran. Carter had completed the negotiations, but their release on January 20, 1981, minutes after Reagan’s inauguration was certainly no coincidence. 

#2. Honesty is the best policy

During his presidential campaign in 1976, Carter famously pledged: 

“If I ever lie to you, if I ever make a misleading statement, don’t vote for me. I would not deserve to be your president.” 

There is no doubt that Carter’s reputation for speaking the truth underpinned many of his administration’s successes.  

The Camp David accords brought an enduring peace between Israel and Egypt. His role as a trusted, truth-telling mediator for their leaders was pivotal for the process. It also anticipated much of his post-presidential work that ultimately led to his being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2002. The Nobel citation lauded him for: 

“… his decades of untiring effort to find peaceful solutions to international conflicts, to advance democracy and human rights, and to promote economic and social development.” 

Carter, however, also learned that truth-telling was also a double-edged sword. In his first presidential campaign he did an extended interview with Playboy magazine. The interviewer raised the concern that some voters were uneasy about his religious beliefs and feared he would be an unbending moralist. Carter attempted to say that he was no better than anyone else. He confessed: 

“I’ve looked on a lot of women with lust in my heart. I’ve committed adultery in my heart many times. This is something God recognizes I will do – and I have done it – and God forgives me for it.” 

On the TV Saturday Night Live mocked him; secular pundits painted him as a ‘redneck Baptist with a hotline to God’, while Conservative Christians questioned whether he had the moral character to lead the country having granted an interview to such a salacious publication. 

Then, while in office in 1979, concerned about the mood of the country, he held intense discussions with a cross-section of guests at Camp David to help address the situation. It resulted in a speech where he talked about the “crisis of the American spirit”. He suggested, “we are at a turning point in our history” and warned against choosing 

“… the path that leads to fragmentation and self-interest. Down that road lies a mistaken idea of freedom, the right to grasp for ourselves some advantage over others. That path would be one of constant conflict between narrow interests ending in chaos and immobility. It is a certain route to failure.” 

Initially well received, media coverage quickly turned it against Carter. They maintained he was blaming the American people for the failings of his own administration. They labelled it ‘the malaise speech’’. Now political pundits see its forewarning of political paralysis and fragmentation as ‘prescient’. 

Over the decades Carter’s commitment to tell the truth has borne fruit. Truthful consistency over the years established a secure foundation for trust. Such trust has then provided the opportunity to work for good outcomes in difficult, dangerous and demanding situations.  

#3. ‘All people are equal’

Carter grew up in relative poverty with no running water or electricity in Archery, Georgia. His mother was the community midwife, and his father farmed. Of the 200 residents only two families were white. The boys he played with and worked with were all African American.  

In his 1971 inaugural address as Governor of Georgia, he made his stance and agenda abundantly clear: 

“I say to you quite frankly that the time for racial discrimination is over.” 

This was no mere sloganeering or political positioning. As governor he appointed more minorities and women to state government positions than all of his predecessors combined. This was a habit he continued as president appointing a then-record number to federal posts.  

Civil rights activist, Andrew Young, said of Carter: 

“All the liberals I had worked with got nervous in a room full of Black people, and Jimmy Carter didn’t” 

#4. Reputation is about character, legacy is the result of hard work

It is a wonder that any politician aspires to high office. The attention of the media is relentless and their scrutiny forensic: mistakes are highlighted, misjudgements castigated and personal flaws relentlessly scorned. 

Carter never courted the media, and they did him no favours. When he left the White House after his landslide defeat to Reagan, his standing and reputation were shot. But he did not take up lucrative opportunities in industry or the world of celebrity. Rather, through the Carter Center he established in Atlanta, he set about his peace-making and humanitarian work under the banner of ‘Waging Peace. Fighting Disease. Building Hope’. 

The work accomplished is impressive from the monitoring of 125 elections in 40 countries to their leadership of a coalition of agencies committed to the eradication of the Guinea Worm parasite. With the latter, the 3.5 million cases reported each year in the 1980s, by 2023 had fallen to a mere 14. As James Fallows observed in The Atlantic

“… as unglamourous as it sounds, [it] represents an increase in human well-being greater than most leaders have achieved.” 

For over 40 years since leaving the White House, Carter put in the hard yards. His consistency of character, integrity and respect for others have ensured his reputation as well as his legacy. As Rolling Stone headlined in their obituary,  

“the 39th president will be remembered for his extraordinary decency and philanthropic legacy.” 

#5. A moral centre

Jimmy Carter was clear about how his faith defined, motivated and sustained him.  

Speaking to a convention of Methodists he shared: 

“I am a peanut farmer and a Christian. I am a father, and I am a Christian. I am a businessman and a Christian. I am a politician and a Christian. The single most important factor in my own life is Jesus Christ.” 

It was his grasp of the message of Jesus that inspired and animated his life of service. It was his faith relationship with Jesus that nourished and energised him.  

On another occasion he was quite clear: 

“My faith demands — this is not optional — my faith demands that I do whatever I can, wherever I am, whenever I can, for as long as I can, with whatever I have to try to make a difference.” 

That just leaves the tale of the ‘killer rabbit’.  

While out fishing in 1979 a swamp rabbit began swimming toward his boat. Taking an oar, Carter chased the creature off with a few flicks of water. It was the sort of stupidly trivial incident that no one involved would ever normally remember – until the press got hold of it. The Washington Post ran the headline “President Attacked by Rabbit” along with a cartoon entitled “PAWS”, parodying the hit movie “JAWS”. 

The story was a PR nightmare and was milked by a hostile press for a week. It reinforced their narrative of Carter as a helpless laughingstock, a bumbler flailing around and not up to the task.  

The story was a cheap shot. But Carter appeared not to have been left bitter about it. When his biographer Jonathan Alter raised the story for discussion, “He smiled ruefully.”  

Jimmy Carter (1924-2024). As his friend Bob Dylan said: 

“He was a kindred spirit to me of a rare kind. The kind of man you don’t meet every day, and that you’re lucky to meet if you ever do.” 

 

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