It is heartwarming to open up the decorations at the beginning of the Christmas season—to unwrap the crèche that we so carefully stored away last year. We set up the makeshift stable stall and then deposit all the characters in their traditional place—the shepherds with their sheep standing nearby, the ox and the donkey quietly kneeling with head bowed toward the scene before them the Gloria Angel atop the stall (hanging from a well hidden finishing nail), the wisemen in their caravan traveling in to see the newborn king. Finally we unwrap Mary and Joseph placing them just so, leaving space for the star of the show: the Baby Jesus, lying in the manger.
What is not so heartwarming—what we neglect to think of at this special time—is that this Baby is more than the star of this show. He’s the star of all the shows. He is born with the purpose of placing himself upon a cross hewn of rough timber. This other scene is not nearly so pleasant—the scene of a man (the God-Man, the Son of Man) hanging blood-soaked and weary, dying for my sin. Sin that I must admit earned no one the sentence He suffers but me. He was born to take my place. He died taking my place.
He is also the star of the final show. The one which brings to mind the triumphant picture of an empty tomb and ends with the shattering of the sky as we know it. Do you know this Jesus? Have you told your friends?
This entry was posted
on 21 December 2006
at 9:46 AM
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Christmas
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