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Saturday, December 25, 2010

Something Greater

Merry Christmas!

Today you may be celebrating Christmas with gifts, family, friends, and a plethora of edible delicacies. All good things which I, myself, enjoy.

But there is something greater. Don't be satisfied with the temporal delights provided by savory ham, sweet desserts, warm friendships and a new iPhone (especially not the iPhone because you know there will be an updated one out in about 5 minutes).

There is a much more glorious story at work. A "true myth," as C.S. Lewis said, because it's so fantastical it seems like the stuff of fiction. But it's true. There is a God. The God of the Universe who confined himself to human flesh. 2,000 years ago fully human and fully God, Christ was delivered to Mary and Joseph in all the gruesomeness and beauty of birth in a stable full of animal excrement. The maker of the universe received no glorious welcome that day.

But that is only the beginning of the story.

He came to live a sinless life so that one day He could take on the sins of mankind, and suffer the punishment that we deserved. Satisfying the justice and demonstrating the mercy of God so that we all may partake in His reward. That is what He did when he was crucified.

But that's not the end of the story.

He rose again. And that is the reason for our hope. He destroyed death and gave life to men! And He will come again to finish His work. May you celebrate His birth today and everyday!


I love this song "Labor of Love" from Andrew Peterson's CD Behold the Lamb of God:


It was not a silent night
There was blood on the ground
You could hear a woman cry
In the alleyways that night
On the streets of David's town

And the stable was not clean
And the cobblestones were cold
And little Mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
Had no mother's hand to hold

It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
With every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of love

Noble Joseph at her side
Callused hands and weary eyes
There were no midwives to be found
In the streets of David's town
In the middle of the night

So he held her and he prayed
Shafts of moonlight on his face
But the baby in her womb
He was the maker of the moon
He was the Author of the faith
That could make the mountains move

It was a labor of pain
It was a cold sky above
But for the girl on the ground in the dark
With every beat of her beautiful heart
It was a labor of love
For little Mary full of grace
With the tears upon her face
It was a labor of love

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