I love Christmas. I love the lights, the music, the trees, the decorations, the parties, and
the gathering of family. But my favorite part of Christmas is during the Christmas Eve service when we Silent Night or O Holy Night a cappella light our candles. The room is darkened, and we hold our empty candles, waiting as the light passes from one person to the next, slowly lighting the room one candle at a time. It reminds me of the light of Jesus that we spread throughout the world when we share it with others who are waiting with empty hearts. I stare at my flickering candle and savor the beauty of singing. I am always moved to tears. There is a peaceful unity as together we celebrate the birth of Christ. I honestly feel sad for anyone who doesn’t get to experience this moment of quiet reflection each year.
I know that His birth isn’t the end of the story, and I am also aware that His death is more
significant. But for me, reflecting on His birth is where I connect with God’s love. The idea that the King of the Universe humbled Himself and became a diaper-wetting, milk-spitting, gassy-bellied, crying-with-hunger-in-the-middle-of-the-night baby is mind-boggling. How did He even fit inside that little tiny body? The miracle of the incarnation is impossible to grasp. This baby was fully human and fully God. And talk about being humble! The King of the Universe was born in a stable, wrapped in rags, and laid in a box next to a tradesman and his young wife. A gift for the world hidden in a little, humble package. He did not become a baby just to experience life as a human. He chose to come to earth to one day die an excruciating death in our place. He knew this when He left heaven. The God who spoke creation into existence was going to lower Himself to cover the cost of our disobedience, pride, and arrogance. Jesus would come to take our place. But he wouldn’t come as a Mighty King; he would come as a vulnerable baby.
His life and death changed the world. Now, we can go boldly before the throne of God,
because Jesus made a way. One day, He will return for us. He will come as the King of Kings in all His glory and with great fanfare. On that day, we won’t be singing a quiet song by candlelight. We will be shouting our songs of praise as His light completely fills all of heaven and earth. My little flickering candle on Christmas Eve reminds me that now we see dimly, but one day we will see Him as He is...not a little package, but a gift that has been ripped open and its contents spilled out to cover our unworthiness. A gift that allows us to enter into the presence of the Almighty God. A gift freely given to anyone who accepts it. The gift of Jesus, our Savior and King.
