What is Christmas about?
A simple way to set your heart on Christ this season
One of the sillier disagreements Carson and I have had was over a Christmas tree.
It was last year, our first Christmas in our house, and I was convinced that the tree we had was just too small. Sure, it had done a fine job of lighting up our 1000-square-foot apartment for two years, but it was about time for an upgrade!
Somewhere along the way, the endless social media posts featuring elaborate, Griswold-sized Christmas installations had sunk into my brain. That’s why I shed a few tears when we realized that our budget that year simply couldn’t support an additional expense of several hundred dollars.
A few weeks after that sad conversation, I anxiously pulled our old tree out of the garage, convinced that it would look like something Charlie Brown picked out once I tried to set it up in our new space.
But, to my surprise, that’s not what happened at all. Instead, I found that the tree was actually a perfect fit for the corner of the living room I had reserved for it. In fact, it was so perfect that I didn’t even consider trying to find a new tree this year.
Yes, I had to add extra strings of lights to illuminate the branches that have gone inexplicably dark over the last few years, but there’s nothing I love more during this season than sitting on the couch and admiring our small, slowly growing collection of heirloom ornaments on that tree.
My problem last year wasn’t money, or the tree, at all. I was so caught up in the pageant of Christmas that I didn’t pause to take stock of my priorities.
To be clear, I definitely don’t think it’s wrong to go all out on Christmas decorations. I adore seeing (and creating) beautiful displays that illustrate the joy, warmth, and excitement of the season. But, I do think the glitz and glam make it easy to supplant intentionality with image.
Here’s something to meditate on as you seek to orient your heart, soul, and strength toward Christ this season.
Mary Consoles Eve
by Sister Grace Remington
I don’t know exactly how long ago I saw this photo for the first time, but I know that it made a deep, lasting impression on me then.
Originally drawn in 2005 by Sister Grace Remington, a Cistercian nun at Our Lady of the Mississippi Abbey in Iowa, “Mary Consoles Eve” depicts the meeting between Eve after taking a bite of the forbidden fruit and Mary, pregnant with Jesus.
Remington originally didn’t intend for the image to be seen by anyone outside of the abbey, but the drawing gained traction after a sister used it for the abbey’s community Christmas card. If you haven’t seen Remington’s rendition, you may be familiar with recreations by artists like
on Instagram.
A few things from the original that I want to point out:
1. Eve’s eyes.
We get a few clues that tell us exactly what Eve is feeling during this moment. First, we see the apple in her hand that’s missing a bite. We see her body, hunched over and shrouded by her hair. And we see her eyes, not quite able to rise and meet Mary’s.
Eve is the depiction of shame. Yet, there’s something else I see there. As Eve contemplates the hope that Mary presents, her gaze seems to ask a question: “Even me?”
The hope of Christ is the only power able to lift Eve’s head. Even Eve, the embodiment of sin, is redeemable.
2. The women’s hands.
As I consider Mary and Eve’s posture toward each other, I don’t think that Eve reached out and touched Mary’s stomach of her own volition. Instead, I like to think that in this meeting, Mary grabbed Eve’s hand and placed it there herself.
Eve clutches the apple close to her chest—but Mary, aware she carries the light of the world, reaches out toward her, cradling her head.
Eve is forbidden to reenter the Garden of Eden, unable to walk with God in the cool of the evening again; Mary is the vehicle that will deliver the incarnate God to earth once again, and she invites Eve to glory in that revelation with her.
3. The snake.
To get the full impact of the illustration, first consider Genesis 3:15, the end of the curse that God pronounces on the snake after it tempts Adam and Eve into sin:
“I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.”
There are (at least) two ways to read this. The first is the most obvious: snakes (and similar creatures) will be enemies of mankind, and there will be constant distrust between the two groups.
But the meaning that Remington highlights in her illustration stretches far beyond the first pages of the Bible. Ultimately, the woman’s “offspring” that is discussed here doesn’t just refer to Adam and Eve’s children, or even mankind as a whole, but someone far greater: Christ.
The image of the snake (or dragon, or sea monster) appears all throughout the Bible, from the first chapters to the last, and tends to be associated with any person or institution that stands against God’s people and his plan. (See the recommendation below for more detail on this.)
In the drawing, the snake still has a grasp on Eve, its tail wrapped around her ankles, entrapping her in sin and shame. But, as it travels toward Mary, it meets its final match.
Consider the image of Christ’s ultimate victory in Revelation 12:9-11:
And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world—he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him. And I heard a loud voice in heaven, saying, ‘Now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Christ have come, for the accuser of our brothers has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God. And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death.’”
Remington’s illustration reminds believers of the ultimate hope found in Christ: that the curse of Genesis will not last forever; that there is redemption for our wandering; that there is victory in the blood of Christ Jesus. Praise the Lord!
Now, LMK:
What images or other art orients your heart toward worship during the holiday season? Give me recommendations in the comments!
And two recommendations:
I came across this interview with Sr. Grace Remington while I was preparing this post. It’s a quick read with lots of beautiful tidbits—and it also gives a fascinating peek into convent life in the Midwest.
And, as promised, some context to the “snake/dragon/sea monster” paragraph above. If you’re intrigued by this short video, BibleProject has an (at least) 18-part podcast series that explores the topic further.