The Miracle of Christmas

The Miracle of Christmas

            Today is Christmas Eve.  What better day to reflect on the miracle of Christ’s birth as we prepare our hearts for celebrating tomorrow His first coming to save us all.  The Christmas story.  Many tales have survived through the generations and have been passed down for decades and centuries, but can you think of any other story that has been so widely told and preserved for two thousand and twelve years?  Or any other story that has touched so many lives and continues to move hearts?  To think of how lost our world was before He came on that silent night so long ago.  It humbles me to think of where I would be were it not for Jesus’ birth on Christmas Day.  Think about it.  Where would I be today?  Where would you be?  The miracle of Christmas.

            The streets of Bethlehem were silent that night.  The roads so crowded and bustling during the day with shoppers, travelers, and vendor’s pushcarts were now void of any activity, leaving the city in a cloak of quiet.  Lamplight shone through the upper windows of houses lining the street, movement within casting shadows against the drawn curtains over the window holes.  But on the stone-paved street below came the solemn creak of wheels as a lone burro dutifully pulled along a small cart with its precious cargo.

            Atop its seat sat a young woman well expecting a child.  She caught her breath, and her hand flew to her middle as it came again.  Time was wearing fast.  “Joseph-”

            “I know, Mary.”  The reassuring voice came from the front of the cart where a man was leading the burro quietly along the road.  “Maybe this will be it though.”  He drew the donkey to a halt before a door, and as the hoof beats fell silent, Mary felt the wheels of the cart come to a stop beneath her.  She watched as Joseph stepped up to the doorstep and knocked.  Peering in through the exposed window nearby to where she sat, she saw a crowd of other travelers laughing gaily about a large table filled with dishes of steaming food.  Women bustled in and out of the kitchen off the room, busy with the dinner preparations. 

            Joseph knocked again and waited.  He cast an anxious glance back toward the cart and watched as Mary silently endured the pain of another contraction.  Exhaustion from the long day of travel showed in her face as she met his gaze worriedly.  He forced a weary smile of reassurance.

            The door finally opened.  A burst of the aroma of fresh-baked bread wafted through the doorway and set Joseph’s stomach in a knot of hunger.  It had been such a long journey.  The innkeeper surveyed the fatigued man standing before him on his doorstep.  “Yes?”

            Joseph spoke.  “We’re looking for a place to stay for the night.  You see, we’ve been traveling all day from Nazareth and were hoping you would have-”  

            The man shook his head.  “Sorry, no room left tonight.  You’re not the only one here in town that’s come up to be registered for the census, and I’ve got a full inn this evening,” he explained, motioning over his shoulder to behind him where sounds of laughter, conversation, and merriment came from.

            Desperation struck.  “But, sir, please, can’t you see my wife’s expecting?” Joseph pleaded, indicating to the young woman seated in the cart nearby.  He evened his voice again and met the man’s gaze steadily.  “Please.  Nowhere else has any vacancies, but we need a room.  My wife’s about to have the baby.”

            The innkeeper turned his gaze from the desperate man before him to the young woman in the cart and then back to Joseph.  He nodded.  “All right,” he consented.  “I don’t have a room to offer, but follow me.”  The couple exchanged a glance of relief as the man stepped out into the street and closed the door behind him.  Then as he started down the road, Joseph took hold of the burro’s rope again and led him forward to follow. 

            They made their way around the corner of the inn and to the back of the building where a little wooden hut stood.  The innkeeper stopped before the stable, and Joseph brought the donkey to a halt.  “It isn’t much I know,” the man confessed.  “But you’re welcome to make use of it.”

            Joseph cast a glance up at Mary.  The man was right; it wasn’t much at all, but it was a place to stay at least, though it was a common stable.  Mary gave a slight nod, and Joseph turned back to the innkeeper.  “Thank you.  This will be just fine,” he assured him.

            Their gracious host gave a nod.  “Well, good night to you, and best wishes,” he said kindly.  He handed Joseph the tin lantern he had carried, and then turning back toward the inn, disappeared into the darkness.

            Joseph watched until he was gone from sight and then drawing a deep breath, forced the weary muscles in his body back into motion.  He made his way to the side of the cart, and reached up, helping Mary down as gently as possible.

            She caught her breath again as she landed heavily.

            “Mary, are you all right?”

            She nodded.  “I’m fine,” she assured him, more confidently than she was.  With Joseph’s help, she slowly entered the outbuilding and with some effort, lowered to the bed of fresh hay Joseph arranged for her on the floor away from the penned livestock.  She closed her eyes and leaned back on a hay bale, willing herself strength as a fresh contraction came with a new intensity than those before it. 

            “I’ll be right back,” she heard Joseph whisper.  “I’m going to unload the cart and bring the burro in.”  She gave a weak nod and heard his footsteps grow softer as he stepped outside the stable. 

            A few minutes later, the footsteps returned, and Mary opened her eyes to see through the shadows, Joseph enter.  His arms were heavy-laden with supplies from the cart, particularly those he knew they would need in the hours of labor ahead.  Depositing them in a dark corner nearby, he disappeared again and then entered leading the donkey.  Mary watched as he secured the animal in an empty stall.  Then he came and took a seat beside her on the hay where the rays of the lantern drew a circle of light from where it stood on the bale at Mary’s head.  He reached up and with a sigh of exhaustion, slid the head covering from his dark hair, making comfortable for the long evening of anxious waiting.

            The hours of the night slowly wore on.  Mary gritted her teeth and squeezed Joseph’s hand as another wave of pain came.  When would the baby come?  How much longer?  The soft sounds of the livestock grazing in their stalls reached her ears.  The lulling of the oxen, the heavy snort of the horse, the restless shifting of their burro.  She felt Joseph’s carpenter-rough touch against her forehead, tenderly brushing aside the damp tendrils of her hair sticking fast with the beads of sweat.  She opened her eyes to see him bending over her anxiously.  “Joseph, I’m afraid,” she confessed in a weak whisper.  “I don’t know how to do this.”

            “You’ll be fine, Mary,” he assured her gently.  He forced an encouraging smile.  “You’ll make a wonderful mother.”  But fear plagued even his thoughts.  He had helped horses and sheep deliver their young in his time, but this was different.  This was Mary and… and the Son of God.  Was even he ready for this?

All of their careful preparations for this moment, their plans for a peaceful birth at home, were of no use in that unexpected timing.  Even the beautiful cradle he had lovingly built for his new son would stand unoccupied that night in the upper room of their home in Nazareth.  But the Lord’s timing was best, though he couldn’t understand His reasons, he reminded himself as he held Mary’s hand.

            It was well into the night when the sleepy streets of Bethlehem were awoken with sounds once again.  Eager footsteps ran along the road accompanied by the occasional thump of a staff and the bleating of a few wandering sheep that had followed from the flock left behind.  They drew to a stop as the shepherds looked up searchingly to the night sky overhead.  “Where is it?” one asked.  “I can’t see it.”

            Another drew close to the wall of a building lining the street.  He pressed his back against it, straining to see more of the sky that peeked around the corner of the two-story inn.  He stepped out from underneath the archway over the road.  “There it is,” he exclaimed.  “I see it again.  This way.”  He pointed up to where a brilliant star hung in the night sky, its rays shining down and illuminating the dark street with its light brighter than that of any full moon.  The shepherds were off again in their joyful hunt.  They rounded the corner of the inn and then drew to a stop as ahead stood a dark stable.  Inside shone a bright dot of beaming lamplight coming from a lantern, and in its light moved the silhouette of a man.  But above, the bright star rested in the sky and flooded the thatched roof of the meager housing in the glory of its heavenly white light.

            Slowly the shepherds made their way forward and silently entered the stable, awe-struck and speechless in wonder.  The donkey bayed a greeting from his stall.  At their appearance, Joseph straightened from where he bent over a manger, and Mary turned her gaze to them with a tired but welcoming smile.  The shepherds looked to Joseph again, and with a smile, he nodded his permission.  The shepherds felt their throats go dry; no explanation for their entrance would’ve been possible, but no words were needed.  The visitors had miraculously been guided to the little stable, but stranger things had happened within the past months.  For as the angel Gabriel had reminded Mary, nothing is impossible with God.

As Joseph stepped back and returned to Mary’s side, the shepherds stepped forward to crowd around the manger the young father had stood protectively over.  Inside laid a sleeping newborn baby boy swaddled in a homespun blanket, his exposed face still ruddy from birth.  He was a baby… but he was more.  He was perfect, flawless, and beautiful, and as they peered down at him sleeping, it as though all of the glory of the Lord that had shone round them in the fields at the angels’ appearance was manifested there in the form of the babe.  “Do not be afraid.  I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people,” the angel had said.  “Today in the town of David a Savior has been borne to you; he is Christ the Lord.”  A Savior had been born.  Jesus the Lamb of God, the Christ child, the perfect Gift to all men.  The Messiah had come.*

 Merry Christmas to all and God bless.

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”

Luke 2:14

 

 *See the biblical account in Matthew 1:18-2:23 and Luke 1:26-2:20.

 Photo courtesy: www.123rf.com

~We’ve all heard of the phrase “pulling on her/ his heartstrings,” but heart-chords?  I was struggling to decide what to name my blog.  I wanted it to be a name that was both creative and meaningful.  As I pondered, my gaze fell upon my acoustic guitar where it stands in my bedroom, and the Lord reminded me that our hearts- our lives- are instruments.  They are constantly in song, but what melody our heart plays is each of our own decisions.  They can play a melody for praise or for entertainment.  A musician selects his songs according to his audience.  So do we.  Whether our audience is the world or the Lord, our song will be different.  This blog is designed to first, increase my awareness in finding God and His guidance in my every day and second, to share the music lessons He teaches me in tuning my heart to learn the chords of praise He longs to play on my heart-instrument.  Music is a powerful tool.  Use it for His glory.  “He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.  Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord.” Psalm 40:3

 

 

           

           

             

Judas Iscariot: the Man

Judas Iscariot: the Man

            Welcome back as we begin to go deeper into our study of lessons we can learn from Judas Iscariot.  If you’ve not read the introduction post to the series Judas Iscariot: the Man, the Mistake, & the Message, I encourage you to go back and do so before continuing.

            In my last post, I gave you a little recap of some of the main points the Bible tells us about this man’s life, and I mentioned that Judas was the keeper of the Twelve’s money bag.  Judas was in charge of the funds.  But what I didn’t mention is that Judas had a money problem.

            Let’s take a close look at the passage of Scripture when Jesus was anointed at Bethany just before the part in the story when Judas agrees to betray Jesus. 

            It was afternoon in the city of Bethany, the hometown of Jesus’ friends Lazarus, Martha, and Mary.  The late sunlight scorched down upon the dirt streets outside, hardening it like clay until it cracked, but inside the house of Simon the Leper, dinner guests sat about a table.  It was cool indoors out of the heat of the day and all were in good temperament.  Lively conversation was exchanged around as dishes of food were passed from hand to hand while Martha’s willing hands voluntarily helped with the meal preparations.  It was a grand feast.  Among those at the table sat Lazarus and the twelve disciples.  And at the head of the table was the most important guest of all, the guest of honor… Jesus. 

            Toward the end of the meal, Mary stole away from the kitchen where she was working with her sister and brought forth a pint of pure nard, the dearly expensive perfume she had secretly admired on the wooden shelf of one of the stores in the village for so long.  Entering the dining room of the house where the men were reclining around the table, satisfied after the meal, she made her way to the head of the table where one of the men sat.  But he wasn’t just a man.  Mary knew that.

            Quietly she took a seat on the earthen floor at his feet, her favorite place.  To just sit and listen to his words.  But this time she sat not to listen but to serve.  She had heard that Jesus had predicted his time of death would come, and though she knew not when, something within her told her she should wait no longer to show her love and gratitude for the man, the friend of her family.  So with heart beating fast and fully conscious of all of the eyes turned upon her in wonder, she broke the alabaster jar she carried in her hands and poured its contents on Jesus’ feet.  The rays of sunlight shining in from the windows fell across his wet feet as the light dappled patterns across the floor on which Mary sat, and drawing her long hair forward from beneath her head covering, she bent and began wiping his feet with her hair.  The brittle leather of his sandals grew soft again, infused with the perfume as her hair passed over them.

            The men reclining around the table still looked on, and silence lingered in the room at her action.  No one spoke at first, not even Jesus.  But at the far end of the table, one of the twelve disciples watched critically, the woman’s beautiful display of humility hardening further his calloused heart.  As she began wiping Jesus’ feet with her hair, he could finally take it no longer.  “Why this waste?” he objected indignantly.  Judas rose to his feet as he spoke, motioning to the woman seated at Jesus’ feet.  “Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor?  It was worth a year’s wages.”  But his heart was not thinking of those in need but of the money the perfume had cost.

            At his angry voice, Martha appeared from the kitchen, dishtowel in hand, and listened from the doorway while Mary’s cheeks burned hot with embarrassment, and in shame, she bent her head to hide the painful blushes, keeping her gaze lowered to Jesus’ wet feet.

            But then Jesus spoke, and at his voice, all turned their eyes upon him.  His words had a way of commanding attention.  “Leave her alone.  Why are you bothering her?” he confronted the disciple.  “She has done a beautiful thing to me.  The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want.  But you will not always have me,” he reminded them all.  “She did what she could.  It was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial.  She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial,” he explained.  “I tell you the truth, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.” 

And at the conclusion of his words, all was silent again.  No one ventured to speak.  Not even Judas dared to further protest with a contradiction.  But as he glanced around the table at the faces lowered to the leftover scraps on their plates in the uncomfortable moment, humiliation caused his face to flush and resentment arose.  He quietly took his seat again without a further remark, but in his heart, anger burned against the man at the head of the table.  Over and over in his memory, he replayed the man’s public rebuke of him, boiling, seething, as he nursed the wounds of his hurt pride.  But he spoke not another word.*

The Gospel of Matthew tells us that the disciples were indignant and questioning the woman’s action; the Gospel of Mark tells us that some of those present were the ones upset over the anointing and rebuking the woman harshly.  But it’s in the disciple John’s account that we learn that the woman anointing Jesus’ feet with perfume was Mary and that the protestor was Judas Iscariot.  It’s also in his account of the event that we’re told of Judas’s money problem, and his later actions concerning the payment he accepted for betraying Jesus confirms this statement.  Take a look at John 12:6: “But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected, ‘Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor?  It was worth a year’s wages.’  He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it.”  Like I said, a serious money problem.  Judas seemingly was a lover of money.

When we think of a “lover of money,” we oftentimes think of a tight-fisted miser, a cheapskate, a get-rich-quick money-grabber.  But a love of money doesn’t always come in the form of an Ebenezer Scrooge.  More often, it comes so subtly, we don’t even recognize its existence.

Judas’s comment reveals materialism.  He was thinking more of the cost of the perfume than of the spiritual significance of Mary’s action.  We live in a very selfish world, don’t we?  Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, was a stark reminder to me of this truth.  Hectic running about Christmas shopping, big heaps of brilliantly-wrapped packages piled high, the credit card being swiped left and right… it’s all come to be accepted as the “mood” of the season.  But Christmas isn’t about a “mood”; it’s about a spirit, and that spirit is the celebration of the greatest Gift of all.  And that Gift wasn’t a thing- it wasn’t an iPhone 5 stuffed in a fuzzy red stocking.  It was a person- a Baby; it was mercy, grace, salvation… love.  Hope for all mankind.  The best things in life aren’t things.  Materialism isn’t what life is about.

The Bible has a lot to say about the love of money.  I encourage you to look the word money up in your Bible encyclopedia if you have one or if not, to look on Google for Bible verses about money.  Here are just a few.  Some are well-known; others I had never encountered before.  “Whoever loves money never has money enough; whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with his income.  This too is meaningless.” (Ecc 5:10)  “For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it.  People who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge men into ruin and destruction.  For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.  Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.” (1Ti 6:7, 9&10)  “Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have because God has said, ‘Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.’” (Heb 13:5)

Sometimes a love of money can present itself in disguise though.  Judas’s comment sounded perfectly natural and his reasoning logical.  He had a good point.  So what was wrong with his objection?  The heart behind it.  His motive was wrong.  Although the basis of his protest- concern for the poor- was valid, he had the wrong perspective.  Sometimes a love of money can disguise itself beneath the cloak of good intentions and legitimate concerns.  First Samuel tells us that “The Lord does not look at the things man looks at.  Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1Sa 16:7)  Clearly, motives are important to God, so therefore, should we not take care to evaluate our motives and judge them honestly according to His Word?

Furthermore, in the Gospel of John, remember we’re told that Judas “did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it.”  But whose money bag was that?  It was Jesus’ and his twelve disciples’.  The money they used for their ministry.  Therefore, essentially, Judas was stealing from Jesus.  How many times I wonder though do we rob from Jesus, keeping for ourselves what belongs to Him.  In reality, all we “own” belongs to Him.  But, true, like the hottest media devices on the market, some areas are more frequently abused than others.  Robbery occurs more commonly in some areas than others, like tithes and offerings for example, service, praise, time with Him even… a trip-up point in my own life, I admit, amidst those busy days and full schedules.       

And lastly, Mary wiped Jesus’ feet with her hair.  First Corinthians says that a woman’s long hair is her glory (1Co 11:15), and yet Mary used it to dry Jesus’ feet.  In contrast to a materialistic heart like Judas’s, we see that a humble heart like Mary’s is prized and applauded by Jesus.  In addition to monetary gifts, do we go above and beyond in our giving to Christ?  Are we willing, friends, to sacrifice our own pride and glory for His service?

In this holiday season particularly, it’s so easy to get caught up in the rush of our self-centered, materialistic world, but let’s guard our hearts against the contagious Judas outlook.  Money isn’t necessarily bad; it’d be difficult in our world to survive without it.  God understands that, but the Bible does say, “For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.” (1Ti 6:10)  Note though that it doesn’t say it’s the root of all kinds of evil, as the verse is often misquoted, but only a root.  Still it’s a root though.  Let’s rid our hearts from any sprouting seeds of greed that are about to germinate into a rapidly-growing weedy system.  The love of money is easier to exterminate before it finds ripe soil in a materialistic heart.  Sadly, it found its way into Judas’s heart and, as we’ll see, impacted the entire course of his life.

 

“No one can serve two masters.  Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other.  You cannot serve both God and Money.”  Matthew 6:24

 

*A note of clarification: as I expounded the few verses of Scripture into the narrative above, I took some liberties.  The Bible does not give us minor details nor does it describe for us the emotions of the people involved in the story of Jesus’ anointing at Bethany, but in this narrative and likewise in those in succeeding posts in this series, all facts expressly stated in the Bible will never be distorted, nor will there ever be any dialogue other than that which has been written in the biblical account.  I encourage you to read the passage for yourself in Matthew 26:6-13, Mark 14:1-11, and John 12:1-11.  I combined the accounts of all three in the narrative.

           

** Note: Looking for some new Christmas songs to help you get in the Christmas spirit and align your focus on the true Reason for the Season?  Check out two of my favorites: The Night Before Christmas by Brandon Heath and Asleep In the Hay by Jonny Diaz. 

Also, many of you will remember my former project horse Sterling, whom I was training and had used as an illustration in my blog posts Lesson from Sterling, Thoroughly Thoroughbred, Out of Control, and Time to Say Goodbye.  You’ll also remember from Time to Say Goodbye that Sterling had been sold back in early October to a family with triplet daughters.  I had said then that “people pass in and out of lives every day… or sometimes, animals.”  Well, Sterling has passed back into my life again.  After rearing or taking off with one of the girls- we’re not sure exactly what happened- the girl fell, received a minor concussion, and Sterling was returned to the farm.  Fortunately, the girl is fine now.  This past Wednesday though, a week from today, I chose to ride him again and resume my training of him.  Am I crazy?  Maybe so. :)  It reminds me of God’s grace and makes me so thankful though that His love is great enough to still embrace us even when we rebel against His will.  Okay, that was a bonus devotional. 

On another note, as I post this, my parents and I are off again, this time driving down to Florida for our annual family Christmas gathering.  I’m looking forward to happy times with family and making good memories and pray you all are taking the time to enjoy quality-time with your loved ones this holiday season as well, blog-readers. 

 

 Photo courtesy: www.123rf.com

 

 ~We’ve all heard of the phrase “pulling on her/ his heartstrings,” but heart-chords?  I was struggling to decide what to name my blog.  I wanted it to be a name that was both creative and meaningful.  As I pondered, my gaze fell upon my acoustic guitar where it stands in my bedroom, and the Lord reminded me that our hearts- our lives- are instruments.  They are constantly in song, but what melody our heart plays is each of our own decisions.  They can play a melody for praise or for entertainment.  A musician selects his songs according to his audience.  So do we.  Whether our audience is the world or the Lord, our song will be different.  This blog is designed to first, increase my awareness in finding God and His guidance in my every day and second, to share the music lessons He teaches me in tuning my heart to learn the chords of praise He longs to play on my heart-instrument.  Music is a powerful tool.  Use it for His glory.  “He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.  Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord.” Psalm 40:3