FINDING FAITH IN THE CHRISTMAS PARADOX: where life in Syria meets faith in New Zealand

Christmas is a celebration of contradictions.  And even though it is filled with profound paradoxes, it reveals deep spiritual mysteries:

• Divinity in humanity — Jesus, fully God, chose to become fully man, entering the world as a vulnerable infant.
• The King in a stable — While Caesar Augustus ruled with wealth and armies, the true King of kings was born in poverty, laid in a manger.
• Strength in weakness — The One who holds the universe in His hand came as a helpless baby, dependent on Mary and Joseph.
• Glory in obscurity — Heaven’s host announced His birth, yet the world barely noticed; shepherds saw what kings missed.
• Life through death — The child born at Christmas came to carry death, so that life might be revealed (echoing 2 Corinthians 4:10).

The paradox of Christmas is not confusion but revelation. It shows us that God’s ways overturn human expectations: greatness is found in meekness, confidence in humility, victory in surrender, joy in brokenness and hope in places the world overlooks. For believers, this paradox is the heart of faith — that the light of the world entered our darkness, not with force, but with fragile love.

There are moments when this paradox becomes deeply personal, as I occasionally move between worlds so far removed, they seem separated not by borders, but by galaxies.

For me, on a personal level, 2025 was the year that stitched these paradoxes together — a year of contrasts, collisions, and yet quiet acts of coexistence. This paradox is not foreign to faith; it is the tension of a life in Christ: brokenness and beauty, suffering and joy, strength and weakness – all bound together by the same DNA of God’s presence.

In Syria, I stood inside a church scarred by war. The building bore the scars of grief untold, where homes were turned into graveyards, cities reduced to rubble, and worship services carried out under the shadow of uncertainty.

And then my galaxies shifted.  Only a few weeks later, I found myself in New Zealand, where peace seemed effortless, freedom abundant, and the comfort of worship risked being taken for granted.

The tension between these two opposing realities is almost unbearable at times — yet deeply revealing. It reminds us that the body in pain and the bride in waiting are not opposites but companions, both yearning for light that shines even in the darkest places.

Christianity thrives on paradoxes—truths that seem contradictory yet reveal a deeper harmony when held together.

2 Corinthians 4:7–10 – “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.”

This is the paradox of a mystic faith —

• A treasure beyond measure, hidden in the frailty of a clay jar.
• A power that surpasses all, yet not to be used but for display.
• A faith that is squeezed but never squashed.
• Compressed but never crushed
• A life threatened by shadows and uncertainties, yet never lost to despair.
• Hunted by hatred, yet never abandoned.
• Struck down by blows, yet never destroyed.
• We carry death within us,
• so that life — radiant, unbreakable —
• may be revealed.

Welcome to the beauty of the Christian paradox

This paradox is never a mere abstraction, nor a puzzle meant to confuse. It is a living mystery — one that presses upon us three questions. Questions that do not settle for answers alone, but call forth a response:

• What is the common thread within the paradox of faith?
• How are we to dwell faithfully within this paradox?
• What responsibilities are entrusted to us because of this paradox?

1. FIRSTLY: WHAT IS THE COMMON THREAD WITHIN A PARADOX OF FAITH?

• WE SHARE SACRED SPACES:

We all seek the sacred spaces that will sustain our spirits.  Regardless whether we live under the darkness of persecution or the light of freedom, all yearn to find the presence of a Sovereign sustaining Creator

Whether in ruins or in beauty, both are places where people have sought God, prayed, and carried hope

• WE SHARE HUMAN LONGING:

We  all seek to belong

Both those who dwell in the comfort of freedom and those who who find themselves under the yoke of persecution will testify to the universal desire for meaning, belonging, and purpose

Think about Romans 12:4  that describes the Church as one body with many members – who, even though they do not share the same function, belong to the same body
Think about Ephesians 5:30  where we are reminded that we belong, as members, to one body. 
Think about 1 Corinthians 12:26 where we are reminded that belonging means sharing – both pain and joy

• WE SHARE FRAGILITY AND RESILIENCE:

Churches in both contexts remind us that faith communities can be fragile (destroyed in a moment) yet resilient (rebuilt, remembered, reimagined).

Persecution should never be viewed as permanent and freedom should not be embraced as a given.  Both are fragile and should be handled with care

2. SECONDLY: HOW DO WE LIVE WITHIN THIS PARADOX?

• REFUSE TO FLATTEN THE CONTRAST:

We live in a world where we seek simple answers.  Don’t rush to resolve a paradox which, when explored, can add richness and maturity to faith.

We need to let the paradox sharpen our awareness of both suffering and beauty.

Contrast creates opportunities

• PRACTICE SOLIDARITY AND GRATITUDE TOGETHER:

Pray with the persecuted, lament with the broken, and give thanks for freedom and beauty.

The Bible encourages believers to rejoice and give thanks even in persecution, most clearly in passages like Matthew 5:10–12 and Acts 5:41.

Matthew 5:10–12 — “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven… Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven.”
Acts 5:41 — After being flogged, the apostles “left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name.”

The paradox of Christian faith is that persecution is not only endured but embraced as a sign of sharing in Christ’s sufferings. Giving thanks in persecution is not about denying pain, but about affirming hope — that God’s presence transforms suffering into testimony, and weakness into witness.

So when Scripture calls us to rejoice in persecution, it’s pointing us to a deeper truth: gratitude is possible because suffering is never wasted in Christ.

Holding both at once keeps your heart alive.

• LET THE TENSION BECOME FUEL:

Instead of trying to ease it, let it drive us to involvement, advocacy, storytelling, and ministry.

We can be a bridge—bringing the cries of Syria into the comfort of New Zealand, and reminding the free that freedom is not guaranteed.

• ANCHOR IN PARADOX:

The Christian story itself is crucifixion and resurrection, suffering and glory. Living in that paradox is not a flaw—it’s the shape of faith.

3. THIRDLY: WHAT ARE OUR JOINT RESPONSIBILITIES WITHIN THIS PARADOX?

1 Corinthians 12:25-26  so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other.   If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. 

• EQUAL CONCERN:

We should have a deep concern, pray for, remember, and speak of the persecuted church.  Our concern is that they remain faithful and obedient

They should have an equal concern that our freedom does not result in compromise and irrelevance

• SOLIDARITY AND JOY:

The nervous system should be a constant reminder of pain within the body.  If we don’t feel it, there is a spiritual leprosy

In the same way ALL members of the body should share in the joy of our freedom

So, in closing, allow me to affirm.  The Christian life is always crucifixion and resurrection, lament and joy.  We Carry both Syria’s wounds and New Zealand’s blessings in prayer.

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5).