Bedlam

Luke 2:8-14

Nearby shepherds were living in the fields, guarding their sheep at night. The Lord's angel stood before them, the Lord's glory shone around them, and they were terrified. The angel said, "Don't be afraid! Look! I bring good news to you—wonderful, joyous news for all people. Your savior is born today in David's city. He is Christ the Lord. This is a sign for you: you will find a newborn baby wrapped snugly and lying in a manger." Suddenly a great assembly of the heavenly forces was with the angel praising God. They said, "Glory to God in heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors."

A New Word for Madness

bed • lamn. a state of confusion or commotion

"In that place be found many men that be fallen out of their wit."

That's how William Gregory, a mid-fifteenth century mayor of London, described the institution known today as Bethlem Royal Hospital. One of the first hospitals to specialize in treating people with mental illness, Bethlem Hospital is today a modern research and treatment facility. In past centuries, however, its patients endured neglect and abuse, cruel confinements, and rough restraints. People who passed by its gated courtyard could hear "the cryings, screechings, roarings, brawlings, shaking of chains, swearings, frettings, chafings" of those inside.

The place had been named, at its founding, after Bethlehem—the "little town" where Jesus was born, lying so still in dreamless sleep (as Christmas carols tell us). But, because these sounds of suffering so came to define it, the hospital's original name gave way to another name, a word meaning, according to most dictionaries, "a state of uproar and confusion." That word? You guessed it: bedlam.

Does Christmas Drive You Crazy?

I don't know how you experience the holiday season, but more than one December has found me groaning, "Christmas is driving me crazy!" Why? The incessant advertising, for starters. This year I saw my first TV commercial starring Santa in September—a new record. And all those ads make me think about the shopping I'll be doing and the presents I'll be buying. Then there's decorating the tree and decking the halls, along with extra church commitments and neighborhood parties. And the soundtrack for all this busyness? Those radio stations that insist on playing holiday music 24-7 from Thanksgiving through December 25. Now, I like Christmas music, but I only want to hear so many renditions of "Jingle Bell Rock!"

I hope your experience of Christmas isn't a crazy one. After all, Christmas means time off from school, right? No homework for a week or two. And the adults in your family are probably the ones handling most of the holiday logistics. As a teen I never found the Christmas season crazy. It was a time for sleeping in, staying up late, plenty of free time, and lots of good food.

Of course, for many people, Christmas doesn't bring a break from life's problems and pressures. The season's emphasis on giving and receiving gifts can strain the nerves of families scraping by on tight budgets as parents look for work. Its idealized expectations of spending quality time with loved ones may only make matters worse when family members don't get along, or when some loved ones can't come home for the holidays. And its relentless insistence that it is (as one holiday radio hit claims) "the hap-happiest season of all" can strike those who are sick or grieving or anxious or alone as a tinsel-tinged slap in the face. For many people in pain—physical, emotional, mental, spiritual—Christmas doesn't feel so much crazy as it does crushing.

Don't get me wrong: Our cultural celebrations of Christmas can be a lot of fun. But they tend to ignore that Christmas is, at its core, God's gift to precisely those people who aren't full of holly jolly fa-la-las.

That's why the strange connection between the words bedlam and Bethlehem might be a good thing. When we think about Bethlehem and that first Christmas, we should remember that more than a little bedlam was involved.

To Whom? To You!

Maybe you've seen Christmas cards that picture the shepherds "living in the fields" of Bethlehem, lounging serenely on a gently rolling hillside among their woolly lambs. Maybe you even played one of the shepherds in a childhood Christmas pageant, bundled up in an old bathrobe or some bed sheets (and practicing ninja moves with your shepherd's staff when the pastor wasn't looking—admit it!).

Well, don't believe it! Our culture sentimentalizes these shepherds the way it sentimentalizes almost everything about the biblical Christmas story. Let's start with the obvious fact: Shepherds, by definition, work with sheep. Sheep are dirty and smelly. That means shepherds are going to get dirty and smelly, too! You wouldn't necessarily want to be stuck under the mistletoe with one of these guys.

In first-century Palestine, "respectable" folk held shepherds at arms' length for more reasons than bad hygiene. Shepherds' work took them far from home, at all hours of the day and night. What's more, shepherds were accused, rightly or wrongly, of letting their flocks graze in other people's fields. Low-class, lazy, louse-infected, lying losers—that's the reputation shepherds often labored under. They had good reason to feel that life was driving them crazy, to say the least.

Any craziness the shepherds experienced, however, didn't keep them from becoming the first folks to hear the good news of Christmas. In fact, God broke into the shepherds' earthbound bedlam with some bedlam on a heavenly scale! That night of Jesus' birth was anything but silent, with a sudden outbreak of divine glory and the appearance of "a great assembly of the heavenly forces" singing the praises of God (2:13).

But the cause for all this commotion is where things really get crazy. All this uproar is over the birth of "a newborn baby wrapped snugly and lying in a manger" (2:12). And why does this kid rate such a spectacular birth announcement? Because he's "Christ the Lord" (2:11). First-century Jews didn't call anyone "Lord" lightly. They didn't even use that title for the Roman Emperor, though he claimed it for himself. No, only one person deserved to be called "Lord": the God of Israel, who chose the family of Abraham and Sarah for a special relationship, freeing them from slavery in Egypt and bringing them to a Promised Land so they could be a blessing to all the families of the world.

So why is this baby's birth worth some heavenly bedlam? Because this same God, the One God whom Israel calls "Lord," is present in him. In Jesus, God has been born into our bedlam, our "craziness." In Jesus, God has been born to real people, facing real problems. As the angel proclaims, "Your savior is born today in David's city" (2:11). To you is born in Bethlehem—in bedlam—your Savior!

Keep the "Crazy" in Christmas!

Jesus' birth didn't cause the shepherds' problems to magically disappear, of course. They still had those dirty and smelly sheep to deal with, as well as all the sneering and snide remarks from their...