Who Cares?

This morning I was asked the question I knew was coming. In fact, it eventually comes every year about this time. Why should this year be any different?

The question? "Chaplain, why do we celebrate Christmas on December 25? You know, Jesus wasn't born in December. He was born in April!"
I've also been told with great assurance over the years that He was born in August, September, and May. One went so far as to tell me it was an absolute certainty that Jesus was born on August 22, 4BC. (That young man said he could prove it.)

After giving the inmate my answer this morning, (the same answer I've given every time the question is asked) I was curious. So I Googled the question "When was Jesus born?" Try it. Without exaggeration, there were 1,160,000 results to my query.
Again, the various determinations as to the 'real' exact date of the birth of Christ ranged from early spring to late autumn. And every one (of the nine or ten I purused) worked hard to prove its validity with much intellectual wrangling.

Maybe you're wondering what my answer to the inquiring inmate was? Well, with as much scholarly wisdom as I could possibly muster, I replied, "Who cares?"

That's really how I feel about it. Does it matter? Is there any real benefit to knowing for sure the exact date of His birth? I think not.
What really matters is that He came. He became "Emmanuel." I don't care when. But its vital to me that He did.

I'm afraid that too many who choose to enter the fray of such debates end up missing out on the simple truth: "They shall call His Name, Emmanuel," which translated, means "God with us."