Christmas

Louie Giglio magnifies the significance of the word “behold” in the Bible. He is “Be” (Exodus 3:13-15), and as we look at the miracle of Mary holding Jesus in her arms, we acknowledge the miracle of us being held in His.

Now that we know what we have—Jesus, this great High Priest with ready access to God—let’s not let it slip through our fingers. We don’t have a priest who is out of touch with our reality. He’s been through weakness and testing, experienced it all—all but the sin. So let’s walk right up to him and get what he is so ready to give. Take the mercy, accept the help.Hebrews 4:16 O Come All Ye Faithful has forever been one of my favorite Christmas songs! While every self-respecting musician has recorded their own rendition, I wanted to know the origins of the earliest hymn. It was written in Latin by John Francis Wade, a music copyist, and later adapted to English by Frederick Oakeley, an Anglican minister. Oakeley’s first attempt at an English title was, “Ye Faithful, Approach Ye.” While the original title didn’t stick around, the word “approach” stuck with me. It’s a word full of invitation and desire. It’s a request for our presence. It says, “Come near.” And it’s a reminder that God is not far off. He is not distant or hiding himself from us. And that is the story and miracle of Christmas. “And the angel said unto them, ‘Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.’” Luke 2:10-11 After four hundred years of silence, hope of our redemption was birthed once more. “Word of the Father now in flesh appearing.” Jesus came from Heaven to Earth to close the gap between God and man, to pay the price for our sin so that we might approach His throne of grace with confidence. Because He knows it’s at His throne that we “receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need” (Hebrews 4:16). The invitation for us today is to come adore the one who bought our healing, our wholeness and our peace with God. Come, encounter the compassion, comfort and kindness of our Savior. Come, approach with our heartache and our brokenness, with our wounds and our scars. Come, joyful and triumphant for our victor over sin, hurt and pain has arrived! -Melodie Malone

Highlighting the detail of “the myrrh” in the Christmas story, Louie Giglio shows listeners how death’s place in the story is that of a defeated enemy. Our God is acquainted with death and very familiar with its sting, but He has also conquered it once and for all through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

What does the Cross have to do with Christmas? Ben Stuart shares a unique Christmas message from the final hours of Jesus’ ministry. At Christmas, we celebrate that our Savior was born, but it’s at the Cross that we fully understand the reason why He came.

Brad Jones leads us further into the Christmas season by pointing to the anticipation of Simeon, who longed to see the King who was to come. By looking to the promises of God and the examples in Scripture, we can wait on God in our own lives with patience, anticipation, and godliness.

Louie Giglio leads into the Christmas and Advent season with a talk about acquiring “Heavenly Peace.” While it is expected to have a sense of peace when things are going well, Jesus’ birth shows us that we can have peace despite any circumstance.

A few Christmases ago, we decided to forgo traditional gifts and instead do one big family gift in the form of a trip to Yellowstone National Park the following summer. In the coming months, we sat in the tension between the promise of the upcoming trip and the angst of knowing it was still several LONG months away. One dilemma I faced related to this time gap was whether or not to go ahead and show our daughters the many websites and pictures that capture the amazingness of Yellowstone or to hold off so that they would experience the wonders of Yellowstone firsthand with fresh eyes. I landed somewhere in between these two extremes.  Over those long months, when I sensed they were having a hard day, I would open my laptop, pull them in tight on the couch, and give them insight into what was ahead for us at Yellowstone. These occasional glimpses of what was to come would lift their minds and hearts off their difficulties and redirect them toward a place of delight, helping them see the promise of better days ahead. Throughout the Old Testament, we see God acting similarly when giving prophetic messages of good news promises to his chosen people of Israel.  Prophecy is understood to be the gift of communicating God’s revealed truth, with prophets being those human vessels appointed to both possess the gift and communicate the revealed truth to the people (Jeremiah 23:18-22).  For no prophecy was ever produced by the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit. 2 Peter 1:21 Theologian Matthew Henry (1662-1714) noted that God’s timing in prophetic instruction to his people always came during times of despair and loss, highlighting the reality that “divine comforts most delight the soul when under the pressure of perplexed thoughts.”  Scripture shows that God desires to reveal his love to his people, and he often accomplished this aim through prophecy. There are more than 300 prophecies found in the Old Testament, each serving to communicate God-ordained good news to a people in desperate need of good news. The prophecies that contained the best news concerned the promise of a coming Messiah. These prophecies acted as megaphones for God’s loving voice, revealing His plans and promises for their deliverance.  Not only did these Messianic prophecies foretell a coming Savior, but they also foretold that: The Messiah would be in the ancestral line of Abraham and the tribe of Judah. (Genesis 12:3; 17:19; Numbers 24:17; Genesis 49:10; Matthew 1:1-16)The place of his birth would be Bethlehem. (Micah 5:2; Luke 2:4-7)He would be miraculously born of a virgin. (Isaiah 7:14; Luke 1:27)His name would be Immanuel. (Isaiah 7:14; Matthew 1:23) Every detail of these remarkable Messianic prophecies was fulfilled in the person of Jesus at his birth. We need to hear the Good News and God’s promises for our lives like the Israelites. Almost everyone reading this article is likely navigating strife. Perhaps it’s a financial challenge, relationship struggle, battle with depression, anxiety, or sickness. Just like the Israelites, our daily experiences demonstrate the brokenness of this world and reveal our desperate need to hear the voice of God. Thanks be to God that he has given us his Holy Word full of prophetic promises of what’s to come that far surpass our temporary suffering.  One that I’m clinging to this Christmas season is God’s prophetic promise to one day wipe every tear from every eye and put to death, death. (Revelation 21:4) Another is God’s promise that, through his divine power and mystery, he will “work all things for the good of those who love him and who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28) My prayer for you and me is that we will allow the prophetic promises of God to wash over our souls and redirect our minds and hearts this Christmas. Just as the hearts and minds of my daughters were shifted toward delight by those small glimpses of Yellowstone, let’s allow the prophetic promises of God to redirect our hearts to delight as we glimpse the majesty of Jesus.

The fields were quiet, save for the softened, constant bleating of the herds of sheep on the ranging hillside. Outside of a small town that would likely be left off the maps of the day, a group of shepherds huddled together. They may have been cold. They may have been content. But one thing is certain. They had no idea that a heavenly celebration would erupt over their heads. “Hark! The herald angels sing, ‘Glory to the newborn King!’” Originally written by Charles Wesley in the early 18th century, this hymn was inspired by what happened on that night on a field outside of Bethlehem. Drawn almost directly from Chapter 2 of Luke’s gospel, this hymn reflects the moment when a heavenly host appeared to the least-suspecting and arguably the least-likely group of men to proclaim in exaltation that glory be to God, and on earth, peace to those on whom his favor rests. The hymn may start in Luke 2, but as it progresses from line to line, it moves and weaves throughout the Scripture, capturing a thread of praise and proclamation that still moves hearts and souls today. Christ, by highest heaven adored (Philippians 2). Christ, the everlasting Lord (Psalm 90). Pleased, as man, with men to dwell (Colossians 1), Jesus, our Emmanuel (Matthew 1).  This Prince of Peace, this son of Righteousness, this person of the eternal and triune God, was now veiled in flesh as the incarnate deity. Born of Mary, and yet fully God. Born that man no more may die, and yet even then, on that night, while the triumph of the God-man was spread throughout the skies, the Cross loomed in the foreground. The hill of Calvary is just a dozen miles away from the manger.  Hark! The herald angels sing, “Glory to the newborn King!” Although Charles Wesley originally penned this now-famous carol, the hymn was slightly adjusted by another famous pastor and preacher, George Whitefield. Keeping the original inspiration from Luke 2, Whitefield tweaked some lines, most notably helping create the opening lyric we all know and from which the song derives its title. “Hark! The herald angels sing.”  It wasn’t until roughly halfway through the 19th century that an English musician, William Hayman Cummings, would set this adapted hymn to music, matching the deep and moving words with a beautiful melody from one of the greatest composers of the time: Felix Mendelssohn. By melding the tune and the lyrics, Cummings helped craft what has since been sung hundreds of thousands of times worldwide and will certainly be sung this Advent season again. The words help lift our spirits as they point towards a great and glorious God worth celebrating. It is a song of excitement, awe, and wonder. It is a declaration of goodness; the manifestation of the gospel come to life and now in flesh and blood.  The long-awaited Savior and Messiah of God’s people has finally arrived and is brought forth into the world to the roar of Heaven’s chorus, as men and angels alike looked upon this swaddled infant with reverent curiosity.  But even more than this, we glimpse in this song the truth that this glorious God has been working out a greater plan than any one of us could have ever imagined. Like the song, which bears the fingerprints of Wesley, Whitefield, Cummings, and Mendelssohn (and that was intertwined over nearly two centuries), the plan of God had been in motion long before the night’s interruption outside of Bethlehem. That’s what the Gospel writer Luke was referencing just verses before he recorded the divine heralding that inspired this hymn. He wrote in chapter two, verses 10-11, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that 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.” This text is one of many examples throughout the Scripture that tell us that the birth of Jesus wasn’t happenstance. It wasn’t just a random act of a bored God with nothing better to do. The birth of Jesus and the heavenly proclamation resulted from a purposed and sure plan God had worked out for all of history. It spanned back even before the foundation of the world. “For he chose us in him before the world’s creation to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love…” (Ephesians 1:4). Can you see the blueprint fragments revealed in these verses? The angel claims to bring “good news,” or the Greek word euangelizō, often used throughout the Old Testament to communicate “the joyful tidings of God’s kindness, in particular, of the Messianic blessings.” For generations, God had sown seeds of messianic expectation (Micah 5:1-2) and promise throughout his people, and now, the angel declares, this is that blessing.  This is the good news you’ve been waiting for.  The angel goes on to say that the good news is “for all the people,” which doesn’t sound strange to our ears but would have been slightly concerning to the 1st-century Jew. Historically, the messianic blessings were thought to be only for the Jews. But suppose you look back at God’s original promise to Abraham in Genesis 12. In that case, we see that within the first unconditional covenant of Scripture, God promises that through Abraham, and eventually through Israel, “all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” Again, the angel is saying that Jesus will fulfill that plan.  Lastly, the angel references the “city of David” and a “Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” Not only do we get the thread tied back to David, thus the culmination of the Davidic Covenant from 2 Samuel 7 and the many texts that refer to the eternal Davidic king (Jeremiah 33:17), but the angel uses three distinct and significant words to refer to Jesus: Savior, Christ, and Lord. To the Jewish audience of that day, this trifecta of titles would have been mind-blowing. This Jesus was to be the Savior (sōtēr), a title often associated with God throughout the Old Testament (Psalm 25:5, Isaiah 62:11, Micah 7:7). This Jesus was to be the Christ (Christos), a term that in the Old Testament often meant “anointed one” and would be used 529 times in the New Testament.  Christ wasn’t Jesus’ last name; it was his God-planned and God-ordained title. And finally, the angel uses the title Lord (Kyrios). This term would have been shocking, as it was used over 7,000 times in nearly 6,000 scriptures throughout the Old Testament. It is a title that is practically on every page of the Scripture, and the angel says to these Shepherds, “For unto you, a child is born, and he is the LORD.” “Hark! The herald angels sing, ‘Glory to the newborn king!’” Why is this important to you today?  Because the same God who formed and followed through on his plan of salvation through his son Jesus Christ is the same God who is actively ordering and fulfilling his plan for your life today. We know that the holidays are busy and can often be a hectic time of year. For many, advent is a season of mourning and grieving just as much as a time of celebration. It can feel like in a season meant to focus on the life and work of Jesus, He is the furthest thing from our minds. But even here, in this very moment, God is working out his plan of redemption and salvation, making you more like Jesus.  He’s very good at following through on his plans. He has never dropped the ball or missed the window of opportunity. He has always shown up right on time, and he has always done what he has promised he would do. On that night, with the shepherds keeping watch of their flocks outside of Bethlehem, God showed up and did what only he could do. He made a way back home for everyone. God is still doing that today.  As we step into this Advent season, may we, with new gratitude, sing out these words and join our hearts to that heavenly declaration made some two thousand years ago, “Hark! The herald angels sing, ‘Glory to the newborn king.’”

Brad Jones brings a meaningful talk highlighting the theological significance of Jesus’ arrival: When Jesus came, grace came. This reality was of massive significance to a people steeped in religiosity. As people who have received grace, we are now to grow in grace – toward others and ourselves.

The song has undoubtedly withstood the test of time as it was first played on Christmas Eve of 1818 in Austria. A Priest named Joseph Mohr insisted on having a unique musical element for their Christmas Eve service each year.  Still, on one particular year, as he made final preparations for the Christmas Eve service, he realized that the organ wasn’t working. Deflated and in a panic, Mohr remembered the words he had penned in a poem several years prior entitled “Stille Nacht,” which translated into English as “Silent Night.”   The words were without music, so he quickly contacted a musician friend named Franz Guber the night before Christmas Eve. In one night, Guber brought instrumentation to the song that has become one of, if not the most popular Christmas song of all time. Take a minute to read these words written over 200 years ago. Silent night, holy night! All is calm, all is bright. Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child. Holy infant so tender and mild, Sleep in heavenly peace, Sleep in heavenly peace.  Silent night, holy night! Shepherds quake at the sight. Glories stream from heaven afar Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia, Christ the Saviour is born! Christ the Saviour is born  Silent night, holy night! Son of God love’s pure light. Radiant beams from Thy holy face With the dawn of redeeming grace, Jesus Lord, at Thy birth Jesus Lord, at Thy birth The imagery in Mohr’s words echoes the words we find in the gospel accounts of the birth of the Messiah in Bethlehem, stories found in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. The thought of a Holy infant should unlock a sense of extraordinary wonder in us. Jesus, who spoke everything into creation, chose to enter into that same creation. The painter became paint on His own canvas. The Alpha and the Omega, the one who is outside of time and space, chose to enter into it, wrapped in skin and bones as a tiny, innocent, and vulnerable baby. Mohr writes that the shepherds quake at the sight of this Holy infant. Luke records that an angel of the Lord appears to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified as you and I would be as well.  There is significance in the fact that the first announcement of the arrival of the promised Messiah was to shepherds. We know that shepherds were ceremonially unclean- they were the working-class people of the day. Their work was dirty, hard work. It wasn’t a career that you would want for your children. And yet, the first announcement of Israel’s King went to them, not to the high and mighty or those with societal status. One thing about Jesus is that He doesn’t do things by accident. Everything is intentional. Maybe He chose to be announced first to the shepherds because you can relate to what it is like to not be in the highest position in society. Perhaps He was letting us know that the good news of the King’s arrival is genuinely for everyone. Luke also tells us that to ensure that the shepherds didn’t miss the message, there was a choir of angels that formed and sang, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom His favor rests.” This scene is what Mohr is referencing when he writes of the Heavenly Hosts singing alleluia. One of the beautiful things about the song Silent Night is that its story is as powerful as the song itself. Just as Mohr sat quietly, hoping in despair while waiting desperately for a solution, the people of Israel knew what it was like to wait quietly. They knew all too well what a silent night was like. In fact, they had experienced over 400 years of what must have felt like silent nights. Our Bibles are broken into two sections: the Old Testament and the New Testament. As the Old Testament comes to a close with the book of Malachi, we turn our page quickly and start to read about the arrival of the promised King. However, historically, there were over 400 years between the end of Malachi and the coming of Jesus. As far as we know, God seemed silent during this intertestamental period. No prophets were speaking, no king from the line of David on the throne, and no new Scriptures were being penned. The Israelites must have wondered, what happened? Did we finally cross the line? Has God officially given up on us? After 400 years of waiting, Heaven speaks through an angel to a man named Zechariah. In Luke 1:11, the angel says, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John.” The meaning of names is incredibly important in Holy Scripture. After 400 years of seemingly nothing from God, heaven speaks to a man whose name means “God remembers,” and his wife is named Elizabeth, whose name means “God’s covenant,” or “God’s promises.” So Heaven speaks after 400 years of what feels like Silent Nights to a couple whose names mean, “God remembers God’s promises.” We now know, looking back through the lens of history, that even though God’s people must have felt like God was silent, He was, in fact, working the entire time. He was moving through rulers and empires to set the stage for the arrival of the promised Messiah. What a comfort that is for us. To know that the message of Christmas boiled down into a nutshell is that God keeps His promises. He hasn’t forgotten what He promised. He is working while we wait. Whether you can see it or feel it or not, God is always working. As we approach the Christmas season, maybe you find yourself in what seems to be a string of silent nights. Let the arrival of the promised King in Bethlehem remind you today that God always keeps His promises. Jesus truly is love’s pure light, as Mohr writes in the closing stanza. So loving that He left heaven because He knew we would never be able to climb our way up, so He humbled Himself and came down in the form of a baby to live the perfect life we couldn’t live and die the death that we deserved. On a hill in Calvary, our blame and guilt were placed upon Him, and His innocence transferred to us. While the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus is the crux of our faith…we know that there would be no Calvary if there weren’t first a baby born in a manger on a silent night in Bethlehem.

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven,     and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” Luke 2:13-14 Perhaps no time of year puts on display the difference between the idyllic presented life and the reality of living quite as starkly as the Christmas season. Count ten people, and you’ll count ten stories, circumstances, and celebrations. Life is, after all, the simultaneous combination of joy and sorrow, the comingling of what has been lost, what is, and what is hoped for.  For the Christian, this well of gratitude and grief runs deep, beyond fleeting feelings, into the soul where the presence of something striking exists. (Ecclesiastes 3:11) When we have seen and cannot help but see the impermanence of what is around us, there may be a sense of grief and longing that rushes in to fill the moments where life slows down just long enough for reflection. So, as we arrive at the twelfth and final month of each year, and the perfect pictures of family dinners, gifts, and matching sweaters fill our eyes, your heart may sink rather than leap.  And if it does, and if it ever has, hear the angels’ cry today: “Peace to those on whom His favor rests.”  There is an inherent danger in an article like this that these words or the sentiment behind them, even when coupled with Holy Scripture, can come off as trite, a simple phrase thrown like a bandage towards a heart needing surgery. This is not lost on me, nor am I immune to the tragedy of life that may precipitate such a silent grimace. Instead, it is a paraphrasing of that heavenly declaration that brings me great solace this year.  “Peace on Earth, goodwill to men.”  This is the ending line of all seven stanzas of Henry Wordsworth Longfellow’s poem, Christmas Bells. You may know it as the carol, “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day,” and for the sake of dispelling the notion that they are easily stated, here is the entire poem, including the sections traditionally abandoned in our current renditions: I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, and wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!  And thought how, as the day had come, The belfries of all Christendom Had rolled along The unbroken song Of peace on earth, goodwill to men! Till ringing, singing on its way, The world revolved from night to day, A voice, a chime, A chant sublime Of peace on earth, goodwill to men! Then from each black, accursed mouth The cannon thundered in the South, And with the sound The carols drowned Of peace on earth, goodwill to men! It was as if an earthquake rent The hearth-stones of a continent, And made forlorn The households born Of peace on earth, goodwill to men! And in despair I bowed my head; “There is no peace on earth,” I said; “For hate is strong, And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good-will to men!” Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: “God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail, With peace on earth, goodwill to men.” Written on Christmas Day, 1863, these words would have almost certainly been accompanied by the same sensation of loss and lament that you may feel this year. As Longfellow sat in his home and listened to church bells in the distance, the 57-year-old widower and father of six had with him a telegram informing him that his eldest had been critically injured in a war pitting his country against itself.  Having never fully recovered physically or emotionally from the same fire that took his wife’s life, we can only imagine the agony of the heart that such a telegram delivered with it. And so, as the sound of church bells reached his ears that Christmas morning, a man who had lost and was losing even more began to mock the idea of peace on earth.  You see, despair and hope almost always accompany one another, a truth perhaps never more apparent than at Christmas when our need for a savior is most recognizable and the hope of Jesus is most revealed.  The stark difference between what we hope life is and the reality of our days casts our need for Heavenly rescue in sharp contrast, something that David Guzik points out has been evident to observers throughout history:  (Even the pagans of the first-century world sensed this need for peace and a savior. Epictetus, a first-century pagan writer, expressed this: “While the emperor may give peace from war on land and sea, he is unable to give peace from passion, grief, and envy; he cannot give peace of heart, for which man yearns for more than even outward peace.”) The world today is not so different. Cultures come and go, languages evolve, wars begin and end, and countries expand and contract, yet the recognition that something is missing and unreachable with hands made of flesh and blood remains. Zecharaiah knew it when he prophesied over his son John: And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High;     for you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for him, to give his people the knowledge of salvation     through the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God,     by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness     and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.” Luke 1: 76-79 The angels knew it when they sang out a declaration that “the good-will of God toward men, is glory to God in the highest, and peace on the earth.” (Matthew Henry) The shepherds must have sensed it and so lost no time, hurrying off to find the child and then spread the word of Him, and Mary knew it as she carefully secured these truths in her heart to treasure for all time. The people then, as they did in the time of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and as they do now, required a savior.  Wherever you are in your faith, whatever you are sitting in or walking through this advent season, whether life has given you a reason to delight or death has returned to you a season of discontent, remind your soul today that one night in Bethlehem, the sky parted. The Heavens declared that the very thing your heart is longing for thousands of years later was then and is now available. Many are the miracles of God, but none can bring peace to your heart this Christmas season except his redemption of the world, begun magnificently that night. Your situation may not change while you’re reading this (although I earnestly pray that it does to the Glory of God), but neither did Longfellow’s. Yet, there is something about that final stanza that lifts my heart as I read it, sitting amidst my pain this season. Despite his grief, despite his suffering, despite his doubt (and in my imagination with a soft, teary smile), Henry Wordsworth Longfellow confessed and held on to the hope of Jesus:  “God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail, With peace on earth, goodwill to men.” May you have that peace.

In this advent message, Louie Giglio emphasizes a few major components of the story of Jesus’ birth: that the story—that Jesus is King—has global significance, it is staunchly opposed by the darkness, and it ends with every knee bowing to King Jesus. Let the “Wise” people seek Him today because He is who He says He is.