“And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.” vs 7
Luke’s precious story detailing the birth of Jesus is at its core a tale of hope. When we look at our family stories it’s amazing how regularly the accounts of death are accompanied by the report of a birth. A beloved grandmother dies and a week later a grandchild is born–the pain of loss is tempered by the new life. Tears disappear when the swaddled babe is introduced to the family. The cooing and cries of the infant are a sign of hope, the DNA is being passed on, and there is a future worth living for. Magnify those stories a million times and we have some sense of why the story of Jesus’ birth has had such staying power and why we’re longing today to hear it just one more time. Granted, this night will be different from Christmases past. Gone are the crowded sanctuaries and the candlelight singing of “Silent Night.” But we’ll be figuring out ways to hear the story–it’s just too important for our world. We’ll read it around the tree in family rooms, hear it over the radio in church parking lots, and watch it as part of a YouTube telecast from our congregation. And we’ll feel the hope: the pandemic will end, peace will reign, the poor will be fed, goodness will prevail. The Prince of Peace is in the world and Hope springs eternal!
Thought for the Day: What is my deepest hope?