How Do We Keep Christmas Wonder-Filled?
by David Jeremiah
Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip
that started from this tropic port, aboard this tiny ship . . . .
Recognize that tune? Does it remind you of Christmas? Put you in mind of the happiest time of the year?
No?
Well, did you know the composer who penned the great classic . . . well, the great television classic, “The Ballad of Gilligan’s Island,” also wrote a popular Christmas song? He was George Wyle, born in New York City in
1916. In 1946, he moved to Los Angeles where he worked extensively on early radio and television programs
like The Alan Young Show, The Dinah Shore Show, The Jerry Lewis Show, and The Andy Williams Show.
Wyle said, “America doesn’t want great music themes, just something it can remember,” and he gave us several
songs to remember including “Gilligan’s Isle” and his popular toe-tapping song about the hap-happiest time of
the year.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year
With the kids jingle belling
And everyone telling you “Be of good cheer”
It’s the most wonderful time of the year
Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year; but remember—the word wonderful means full of wonder,
which is exactly how we should feel when we consider the incredible entrance of God into human life in Bethlehem. After all, His very name is Wonderful, and the people of His day were amazed at every aspect of His life
and ministry. Mark 9:15 says, “As soon as all the people saw Jesus, they were overwhelmed with wonder and
ran to greet Him” (NIV).
We should feel the same! Gypsy Smith, the old evangelist who sang and preached his way around the world,
was once asked the secret of his vitality and vigor. He replied, “I have never lost the wonder.” G. K. Chesterton
once said he had learned more about life by observing children in the nursery than he ever did by reflecting on
the writings of philosophers. Jesus himself suggested we be child-like—not childish in immaturity, but childlike in our sense of simple trust and wonder.
Fatigue Can Wipe Out Our Wonder
One reason we’ve lost the wonder is that we’re too rushed to ponder the meaning of Christmas, and our fatigue
overwhelms our sense of marvel. One woman said, “It’s not even Thanksgiving, and I’m already feeling Christmas fatigue. I see the lights and the decorations in store windows and think, ‘Oh, no, not again!’ Isn’t it possible
just to skip it all?”
But notice these three little words in Isaiah 29:9, “Pause and wonder . . . .”
We’ve got to find ways of pausing, of being still, or quieting our lives and our hearts. You might want to get out
your calendar right now and make an appointment with yourself for two or three nights during the holidays in
which you’ll accept no invitations, entertain no friends, and schedule no activities. You might even decide to
“farm out the kids” one evening so you can be alone by the Christmas tree—just you and the Lord—reading
Luke 2 and singing the great carols of Christmas as private solos to Him. I know it’s a radical idea!—but even
Jesus needed to steal away by himself from time to time.
And why not get to church early this Sunday? Too many people dash in after the first hymn or opening prayer;
but what if you arrived early enough to sit quietly and prayerfully, to listen to the prelude, and to think through
the carols you’ll be singing? Don’t you think it’d be good for your nerves?
And there’s one more thing. I know you’d like to find that perfect gift for everyone on your list; but maybe it’s
better to give a twenty dollar bill or a gift certificate—accompanied by a personal note of appreciation—if doing so will keep you from collapsing from fatigue. You can’t wonder if you’re weary, and it’s hard to be excited
when you’re exhausted. This season, try our Lord’s advice: “Come . . . apart . . . and rest a while” (Mark 6:31,
KJV).
Doubt Can Wipe Out Our Wonder
Doubt and disbelief can also wipe out our wonder. One of the reasons the world has turned Christmas into a harried holiday instead of a hushed holy day is because of the skeptical secularism of our times.
Ravi Zacharias warns that when we reduce the universe to purely mechanistic or random terms, there inevitably
follows an accompanying loss of childlike wonder; and that reduces all of life, for everything ultimately becomes chemical or molecular. That leads to a loss of gratitude, for there’s no one left to be grateful to. Thanksgiving Day becomes Turkey Day, and Christmas becomes a holiday rather than a holy day. This results in an
avoidable slide into emptiness.
“I think particularly of our present generation,” says Zacharias, “which enjoys more sophisticated toys than
ever before, yet each toy has a shorter thrill-span than the previous one . . . . When wonder ceases, boredom and
emptiness begin to stalk existence.”1
There’s something very wise and wonderful about childlike faith. Missionary Rosalind Goforth told of a time in
her younger days when she was walking with her aged father, a retired artist. It was early summer and wild violets were in full bloom. “Father stopped and plucked a single violet,” said Rosalind. “He remained examining
it for so long that I became impatient and said, ‘Father, dear, do come on.’ Gently he laid a restraining hand on
mine as he said, almost in a tone of awe, ‘Child, just look at the exquisite beauty of this tiny flower—its color
and delicate tracery! Oh, how wonderful it is!”
Then, as they started on, he exclaimed with deep feeling, as though speaking to himself, “What a wonderful
artist God is!” It was a moment Rosalind never forgot, and it encouraged her to keep her own heart open to the
beauties of God’s creation, to the incredible truths of His Word, and to the special days of His calendar.
How sad to miss the violets. How tragic to take God’s work for granted. How wrong to sit in church and yawn
at the very truths for which Christ came to share with us.
1
Ravi Zacharias, Can Man Live Without God (Dallas: Word Publishing, 1994), 88.
Pride Can Wipe Out Our Wonder
Self-centered pride can also dilute our feelings of awe toward our great Savior, and Christmas has become very
materialistic and selfish for many people. But only by being Christ-centered can we be wonder-filled.
Holocaust survivor Corrie ten Boom told of an old monk who sang a carol every Christmas Eve for his brothers
in the monastery and for visitors who would come from the village for the special service. His voice was rough,
but he loved the Lord and sang from his heart. One year the director of the cloister said, “I’m sorry, Brother
Don, we won’t need you this Christmas. We have a new monk with a beautiful voice.”
The new man did sing beautifully, and everyone was happy. But that night an angel came to the superior and
said, “Why didn’t you have a Christmas Eve song?”
The superior was surprised. “We had a beautiful song,” he replied. “Didn’t you hear it?” The angel shook his
head sadly. “It may have been inspiring to you, but we didn’t hear it in heaven.”
“You see,” Corrie explained, “the old monk with the raspy voice had a personal relationship with the Lord Jesus, but the young monk was singing for his own benefit, not for that of the Lord.”2
Don’t think of what you’ll get out of Christmas this year. Think of others, and think of Him! Share His love.
When the shepherds received the angelic message that the Messiah had been born just a mile or so from where
they were, they went with haste and found the Babe lying in a manger; and when they had seen Him, they
spread the news. Luke 2:18 says: “And all who heard it wondered at the things which were told them by the
shepherds” (NASV).
It’s still wonder-full news. This Christmas, don’t let fatigue, doubt, or pride steal the wonder from your heart.
Take time to marvel at the miracle of the manger, to stand amazed in His presence, and to worship Him who
alone makes it the most wonderful time of the year, the hap-hap-happiest season of all.
2
Adapted from Corrie ten Boom, In My Father’s House (Old Tappan, NJ: Fleming H. Revel Company, 1976), 136-137.