CHRISTMAS REMINDS ME OF A QUESTION I often ask myself: Why do I care so much about Jesus? Would I have been in those crowds who followed him when he lived in Galilee? What would have convinced me to follow him? His kindness and grace? His power to heal sick people? Would I have recognized my own calling to participate in his mission—destroying oppression, injustice, and self-absorption? Would I have been willing to bind up the brokenhearted?

A lot of people thought it was amazing that Jesus could provide food for thousands. That he could turn water into wine. And that he even had the divine authority to raise his friend Lazarus from the dead. They showed up to see these extraordinary exhibits of spiritual power. But most of them didn’t stay around to find out how he did those things. It’s likely they were content to be fed when they were hungry (see Matt. 14:15–21), delighted with the wine at the wedding, (see John 2:1–11), and grateful for Lazarus to return to them from the grave (see John 11). But these earthly successes were side effects—not the goals—of Jesus’ spiritual mastery. Searching for material comforts and accomplishments, most of them missed the spiritual wake-up call. In today’s world, I wonder: Do our Christmas distractions keep us, too, from the spiritual wake-up call?

Jesus’ guidance to the pearl of great price

I hope if I’d made the rounds with Jesus and heard him talking in parables about the kingdom of God, I would have caught the idea that this kingdom is far more valuable than getting bread and fish, wine, or even relief from physical ailments. The kingdom Jesus was teaching about was a “pearl of great price” (Matt. 13:46). It’s something to cherish—but it costs something. Another of his parables, now known as “The Prodigal Son,” sheds more light on this kingdom as it feels like a guide home to a safe and loving Parent after a long nightmare. Like so many who were in the crowds following Jesus, the prodigal was much more interested in worldly excitement and success than learning the lessons of spiritual maturity. But the pain of his suffering jogged his memory of the pearl he’d left at home—the unconditional love of his father.

Many of us might have wanted to linger longer when Jesus taught the basic principle of happiness and its connection with this kingdom. In one of his major lessons now called the Sermon on the Mount (see Matthew 5–7), Jesus explained how permanent joy comes from replacing earthly longings with God’s treasures. But these promises are followed by some of his most challenging teachings. “Love your enemies,” he said. I ask myself from time to time how ready I am for that assignment! And there is more in that sermon, such as not even secretly wanting recognition for my good deeds, or not even thinking sensuous or angry thoughts. Again, the message for today could mean that our motivation for doing good has nothing to do with personal contentment or world success. It has everything to do with how much we love.

Leaving behind comfort and discomfort zones

It’s clear that getting close to Jesus and his teachings also requires the courage of getting close to our own thoughts. While we may never need to admit our secret motivations, rage, or lust to others, the Christ exposes them in our hearts. We can’t hide from them. But the most comforting part about honestly looking at our shortcomings is the way Jesus’ teachings inspire us to turn our lives around and to even forsake a comfortable life in order to live the life of love that Jesus taught. And he taught this lesson wherever he went.

For instance, Zacchaeus was a tax collector and known as a “sinner,” but when Jesus came to town the force of the Master’s presence and unequivocal love caused Zacchaeus to abandon greed for generosity (see Luke 19). A woman whose adulterous relationship was made into a public spectacle was protected by Jesus and guided to a safer and more productive way of living. Watching her accusers drop their stones moments after they were ready to kill her made her a witness to the power of the love that transforms, which surely must have transformed her life as well (see John 8). And a man suffering from a paralyzing disease felt the impact of Jesus’ forgiveness when he was lowered through an open roof to hear Jesus speak to the throng. Jesus “said unto the sick of the palsy, Son, thy sins be forgiven thee” (Mark 2:5), and the man was healed. Evidently the man knew his own mistakes well enough to experience the impact of Jesus’ forgiveness and its power to restore his innocence and his health.

The heart of Christmas lies in stories such as these because they illustrate what we’re truly drawn to. Each one is a rebuke to greed, sensuality, or some form of self-centered life. And it’s an affirmation of living for the purpose of loving.

God’s gift of “another Comforter”

Jesus told his closest followers during his final meal with them that there was a greater gift yet to follow. How surprised they must have been to hear him say that the best thing he could do for them was to leave them! He promised that God, his Father and ours, would send “another Comforter” (John 14:16)—but that it couldn’t happen until he left them. If I’d heard those words alongside the disciples, I might have wondered what good it would do for Jesus to leave, when he was accomplishing so much good. But this new Comforter would not come until Jesus left. After a brutal trial and crucifixion, his triumph over the grave and his resurrection provided even further incentive for people to strive to follow him. Soon he was lifted up from earth altogether, in what has since been called the ascension.

His absence made very clear to everyone who had been drawn to him that now it was their turn. Who else was going to console others and rebuke earthly attractions? Who would point the way to the pearl of great price, making plain the fact that sacrifice would be necessary, and shortcomings could no longer remain hidden? Who would bind up the brokenhearted and heal the sick? Who would face the opposition of the world’s hatred against all that Jesus taught concerning his Father’s kingdom? Those who learned to love—as Jesus taught.

The Comforter is here

Would I still have been there? I hope the meaning of the new Comforter would have come alive for me! All the men and women who were prepared to give their lives to the task before them knew they could not take a single step without the guidance, encouragement, rebuke, and inspiration of the Comforter. Jesus would not do their work for them. Mary Baker Eddy, one of those followers who took on the full responsibility of discipleship some 1900 years later, identified the Comforter as that which is “… revealing the divine Principle, Love, and leading into all truth” (Science and Health, p. 332). Clearly, this Comforter is still calling on us to live as disciples, finding truth in that spiritual realm of harmony that Jesus guides us to.

Christmas is a quiet reminder that we live for the purpose of loving and that Jesus sent us the Comforter we need. I pray once again to guard against the self-satisfying side effects of Jesus’ mission and to renew my commitment to the love-motivated life of discipleship.