(Re)Thinking Christmas

Last night, during the Christmas Eve service, our pastor pointed out the word “Savior” from Luke 2:11:

Fear not, for behold, I bring you tidings of great joy which will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.

A Savior, who is Christ the LORD.

A Redeemer…who is Christ the LORD.

A Deliverer…who is Christ the LORD.

A Deliverer…

 

I need delivering from so many things:

my sin,

my self,

my troubles.

The judges in Judges were deliverers. They were not like judges in our world today. They were great warriors who fought battles to rescue God’s people from the consequence of their sin:  captivity.

Oh, Lord, how I am like them:

doing what is right in my own eyes;
being held captive by my sin;

And as I sit here on Christmas morning, I am reminded of my need for a Deliverer.

And there He lays:

a little baby…

in a manger.

The angel’s good news to the shepherds is as needed today as it was over 2,000 years ago:

Behold I bring you tidings of great joy which shall be for all the people. For unto you, is born this day, in the city of David, a [Deliverer] who is Christ the LORD.

And now I better understand, “tidings of great joy.”

Joy to the World the LORD is come.
Let earth receive her King.

Houses throughout the country right now are filled with the sounds of children pattering down stairs and giggling with delight as they stare at the toys a fat man with some reindeer and a sleigh magically left for them last night. There are sounds of wrapping paper being ripped, of ohs and ahs, of thank yous, and of cheer.

But my house…well…my house is quiet.

There seems to be something inherently wrong about a quiet house on Christmas morning.

The rooms are not filled with people.
The kitchen is not busy with food preparations.
The sounds of the clacking of silverware on plates is nowhere to be heard.

It is simply quiet.

In Christmases past, the quiet house would go unnoticed because of the clatter in my head. While my house was quiet, my heart was not, yet it felt more empty than the rooms. The silence made my soul ache for life-long dreams unfulfilled.

A quiet house is not how I imagined my 39th Christmas on this earth.

There should be a husband.
There should be children.
There should be toys and presents piled high.
My living room should be cluttered with chunks of wrapping paper right now.

No. This is not how I envisioned my 39th Christmas because for the first time I am grateful for the quiet.

You see…I have what few people have this morning:

…time to think about its uniqueness,
…space to cherish its significance,
…a moment to ponder the holiness of this day.

I am reminded of:

…a faithful God;
…and a promise kept.

I am grateful to sit – not in a living room littered with clutter and clatter – but in the throne room of my King.

One day – God willing – my house will not be silent on this blessed day, but for now I will relish its stillness.

No.  It is not how I imagined my 39th Christmas on this earth.

It is better.

Oh come, let us adore Him.

Deep in our spirit lays the knowledge that we were made for more than this world. We crave happy endings and harmonious relationships. We crave work that isn’t labor and a heart that doesn’t break. We long to linger in beauty, to escape the precipice of death, and we search for community when into our hearts loneliness creeps.

We were, indeed, made for something immensely better. We were made for Eden. Our sadness is the cry of our hearts and the longing of our spirit for that perfect land where there is no more death, no more crying and no more pain. When He returns again, for those that know Him and remain faithful, it will be so.

This Christmas, as we celebrate the newborn King, let us rejoice in knowing that He who was faithful to come once, will come again. Let the plea of John be ours as well:

“AMEN. COME, LORD JESUS!”

Wishing you & yours a blessed and merry Christmas!