The Christmas season has come again. I know that because a) it’s December, b) everyone and his brother and his brother’s uncle’s friend’s pet dog is wearing festive red Santa hats, and c) the WalMart greeters have taken to saying “Merry Christmas!” instead of “have a nice day!”

I’ve had probably a hundred people wish me a Merry Christmas in the past week. It’s kind of heartwarming. Brings a smile to my face every time. But do they ever stop to wonder what that phrase means? Do they ever think about what this holiday really stands for, or what it really looked like to the characters who were most intimately involved in the story of the Christ?

There are many things that we think of when we hear the name “Christ.” Who is this Man to us? He is the Messiah. The Savior. The Lion of the tribe of Judah. The Root of Jesse. The Hope of Israel. Immanuel. The Prince of Peace. The Redeemer. The Ruler. The fulfillment of an age-old promise of redemption given to our forebears at the beginning of time. He is God incarnate. He is perfect man. He is the author and finisher of our faith. He is our High Priest, the one who sanctifies us. He is the Payment of our ransom, the Restorer of our standing with God.

And yet, who was Christ to the men and women of his day? An illegitimate child. The son of an unknown father. The bastard offspring of a lowbred woman, raised in a town of no consequence, part of an insignificant family made up of working class men and women.

And because of who He appeared to be, the Jews and the Gentiles alike missed the reality of Who He truly was. They failed to recognize that our God is a God who uses the ordinary to accomplish the extraordinary, that He allows our frailty to showcase His strength, and that He possesses a wisdom which confounds the minds of the wise.

I thought of this as I was out running errands yesterday, watching the endless streams of humanity bustle about doing their last minute Christmas shopping.

Each one of these men, women, and children appear to be one thing or another, I thought, and yet, who are they REALLY? If I could see deep down inside, could read the thoughts, could sense the emotions, could know their past, could feel the inner hurt that each one feels, could understand the struggles they face…what would I find? WHO would I find? Who would they find in me? What enormous depths of meaning am I missing as I look merely on the outside? If Christ came today, would I pass Him by?

I left the mall that day somewhat sobered by the realization that I, like many others, often fall into the trap of judging the man by his appearance, by his family, by his geographic location, by his hobbies—how often do I really invest in people and get to KNOW them like they deserve to be known?

It’s a question I can’t afford not to answer. Because today, just as for the Jews of 2,000 years ago, it is entirely possible to pass by Christ without recognizing Him. He tells us that what we have done to the least—those that society didn’t value, couldn’t see the worth in—we have done to Him.

I hope that this Christmas season is a valuable reminder for each one of us of the fact that how we treat the most vulnerable members of our society—the least desirable men and women, from a social standpoint—is a reflection of what our character really is, what our values truly are, and what effect our love for Christ has truly made on us as persons…