Silent Nights
It’s nearly here—Christmas Eve. Christmas Day. Christmas.
We stretch our energy and our emotions over a whole holiday season, but this weekend is it.
The expectations, and hopes, around this weekend are high—whether you’re five, or fifty. Will they like the gifts? Will the family get along? Will the flights be on time, will the kids sit still in church, will it snow?
For all the effort we put into shaping our holiday experience, there aren’t a lot of guarantees. There’s really only one: Jesus will be there.
Have you ever seen a nativity set where someone doesn’t put the baby in until Christmas morning? Mary and Joseph crouch around an empty manger; shepherds peer at nothing; some sheep wander around. It doesn’t make any sense without him. Christmas is like that. Our season builds to nothing if it doesn’t lead to that silent, holy night.
Because, in the morning, he’s there. Not just on December 25th, but every morning since and forever, God is with us—when you wake up on December 26th, and February 3rd, and August 9th.
The point of the silent night isn’t that the infant Jesus didn’t cry, or that Mary’s labor was serene, or that the shepherds weren’t a little rougher than your average church crowd. It’s that Jesus came into our noisy, painful, tumble-down world as the Prince of Peace. He came with wisdom, as a Wonderful Counselor. He came as the Everlasting Father to our all-too-human families. He came as Emmanuel.
All of this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Emmanuel” (which means “God with us”). Matthew 1:22-23
This weekend, listen. Give thanks for the silence, and give thanks for the sound. In all things, listen for the message the angels brought to Bethlehem: Glory in the highest places. Glory in the lowest places. And merry Christmas.
Song: “Lord Remind Me” – Jon and Valerie Guerra
This song is part of our Silent Nights playlist on Spotify.