Christmas and Freedom

(Two Narratives one Sunday)

Since 1838, the Christmas display windows of David Jones, one of Sydney's department stores, have told a story. Throughout December, Christmas shoppers make a particular point of visiting these windows to breathe in the magic of Christmas, pausing to rest before plunging again into the river of consumers on a quest for the perfect Christmas.

These displays have created stories involving Santa, elves, polar bears, toys, and nativity scenes. In more recent years, the stories have begun to embrace less conventional themes, opting instead for stories of generosity, love, and kindness.

I recently passed by the displays at David Jones. This year the story on display is My Pet Star, written by author Corrinne Averiss and illustrated by Rosalind Beardshaw. The story invites you to consider that you are never too young to be a carer. In the story, a star comes down from his place in space. He “bumped and tumbled, scratched his face.” The child in the story enters the world of the star, bringing care, kindness, empathy, and healing. The child proudly proclaims, “I would be his cosmic super vet.” With all this attention, the star becomes whole, shining so brightly that he is given the option of being free. The star chooses freedom and returns to the cosmos with a smile while continuing to shine brightly overhead.

There is something innocent and beautiful about this encounter with the star. You can't help feeling that the world would be a better place if we could all just be like cosmic super vets.

Opposite the display in the department store, a less innocent scene was unfolding on the same day that I visited. Thousands gathered to protest. The protesters waved Australian flags and flags that asked people to vote for a former American President again in 2024. They protested about lockdowns and the impost of a vaccine.

As protesters' megaphones increased our anxiety with their loud and angry voices, “Frosty the Snowman” played from the department store's external speakers. The watching crowds freely embraced these contradictions in the hot Australian sun.

The narratives of the star and the protesters have much in common. Both alert us that all is not well. The protesters raised allegations of the abuse of power, and the pet star is bumped and tumbled and scratched on his face. 

The solutions also share affinities; both narratives are about freedom. The protesters wanted freedom and saw themselves as obligated to work for the freedom and rights of everyone. While in My Pet Star, the ultimate obligation of the child is to offer the star his freedom. The star chooses freedom. The truth is it is inconceivable that the star would choose anything else but freedom.

These two freedoms are linked not just by the spaces in which these narratives were enacted. Put simply, the same desire of the star to be whole and free is the same desire that underlay the protesters’ actions. There is much to commend about these freedom narratives as they both seek to make the world a better place. But pause and consider the complexities. For a start, the freedoms that the protesters were advocating for are not the freedoms that the majority of Sydneysiders would choose, with virtually 95% of the adult population double vaccinated.

The challenge is that we are complex human beings full of unspoken expectations and values. We assume our motives are purer than others’ and think that our choice of freedoms is better than others’ choices of freedoms. Furthermore, these freedoms have produced significant anxiety. Clive Hamilton observes:

“The very openness of modern life—the demand for independence that has left us with the freedom and the obligation to ‘author’ our own lives—entails forms of risk to which we were previously immune. For if we must take responsibility for our own lives we are confronted daily with the possibility that we will take the wrong path…The spectre of personal failure haunts us at every turn.” The Freedom Paradox 2008 pg 55-56

This presents us with a real dilemma, for it appears it will take more than our own actions, stories, and personal freedoms to address being bumped, tumbled and scratched.

As we dig a little deeper, what becomes evident is that our own actions, stories, and freedoms are infected by our own inability to stand outside ourselves and the worlds we live in. Our own stories entrap us. It will take more than becoming cosmic super vets to fix the scratches on our faces.

The original Christmas story is under no illusions that things are simple. The baby Jesus arrives in poverty under the menacing reign of the Romans. The Romans administer crippling taxes, rule without mercy, and kill two-year-olds. The oppression of power is real, as are the people who have been “bumped and tumbled.”

The story of Jesus is the story of a very different cosmic star. He comes down from his place in space, not bumped and tumbled and not in need of a cosmic super vet but rather as one who comes to us. He comes to bring peace, heals the sick, mends the broken-hearted, and frees the captive because he knows our incongruities and knows that we cannot fix ourselves despite our best attempts. If you think about it, that makes sense. We need someone who is compassionate and understands us deeply but provides help not from the inside out but from the outside in.

Unlike the narratives of My Pet Star and the protesters, this story removes us from being the hero of our story and is realistic about the chances of us securing our freedoms. The Christmas narrative asks us to embrace a different narrative and to start by acknowledging our need for a cosmic doctor.

Jesus will say in Luke 5: 31-32:

“It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.

Here Jesus sees our world as it really is—sick—and yet is compassionate and kind. He invites us to humility and repentance. Jesus invites us to acknowledge our place in getting things wrong and to acknowledge that we all have scratched faces. But Jesus does more than this. He also offers us freedom as a gift, not as a demand or as something we achieve.

Jesus will go on to say:

“I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” John 10:1

St. Paul, meanwhile, will say:

“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.” Galatians 5:1

In this narrative, true freedom is found in Jesus' story, not my own story. His is a narrative that frees us from the anxiety of our own stories and embraces a much grander story. Ultimately it is His story that sets us free and then empowers us to care and be kind.

Wishing you a joy-filled Christmas.