Read: Micah 5, Sing: Oh Little town of Bethlehem, Memorize: Micah 5:2-5
Bear with me today. I have much racing through my heart and mind as we study through the birth of Christ. I am attaching an article to today's reading, and will have several wonderful sermons for you this Friday.
First, Micah predicts the birth of the Savior out of Bethlehem. The town where David was born, it was located 5 miles outside of Jerusalem. He was born in a small town, as the root of Jesse. Here is a fun children's song about that! We know from the gospels that this is true; Jesus is born in Bethlehem, not because there was manipulation of peoples, but because a secular governor ordered a census and it required Joseph and Mary to take, for what them, was probably a very untimely trip.
A part of Micah I have always skipped over was the term "Ancient days," which can also be translated "from days of eternity." Woah. I always just read it, focused on the town and moved on the the Christmas Story. But Micah is proclaiming here that the Prince of Peace would be other worldly, not a man but the Son of Man.
And it made me think about a few other very distinct things. I take Jesus for granted. Along with my Bible. I take them both for granted because access is easy to a Bible and because I never had to wait for the promised Messiah. I was born, and He had already come. My grandmother in her incredibly heavy French accent used to tell me how much I don't understand what I have because I never lived through war. She did, she fought at 15 in the French underground, was arrested twice by Nazi soldiers, gunned down once for smuggling Jewish babies away from a concentration camp train. She lost a brother to the war and had a father prisoned for many years during it. She understood freedom better than I ever could, because she fought for it. So when she would look at my generation wasting food, and time and money...it was something incomprehensible because she understood- its not guaranteed. She told me every day to never take that day for granted because no body is guaranteed tomorrow. Yet, I find myself always making plans for a week, a month a year from now. As if it is my right. And if 2020 taught us anything- it is that we are not guaranteed anything. No amount of money or stature changed things, it was global.
Yet, here we are, in a year of the unexpected, and I found myself falling into Advent, nonchalantly. Because it is here, like every year. The one from ancient days was born that I might spend eternity with Him, but the commonality and commotion of the season has leveraged His birth as traditional and religious; rather monumental and earth shattering. I was to get back to that. Every year we strive to create wonder and awe for our children about the fact that Christ was born. And that is SO HARD in our very noisy, consumer driven country. It takes putting on blinders to some of the nonsense and seeking out He who was prophesied about. Allowing ourselves to be immersed in the story of the birth of Jesus. Biblically.
Secondly, do I know the traditional stories of the birth of Jesus, and value them over the biblical narrative? We allow ourselves, even in the Church to reconstruct if you will the Nativity. To fit into a play, or an artistic rendering...do I know myself enough, these verses to know fact from fable? Or in some ways do I allow Jesus to become as much a legend as Santa? I am able to sit and read the Old and New testament because people gave their lives over the importance of this being passed on from generation to generation...to the ends of the earth! May I see and value the importance of each moment, each morning and evening as we open our scripture and be fighting to pass it on!
I know these are very heavy and sobering thoughts, but I think they are so important. As we come to the manger we are walking towards the cross. Jesus came to be born to die. Jesus Christ is the SON of GOD. I want to be able to share this glorious hope with others, but it starts first with truly believing for myself that Jesus is who He says He is, and that He is enough.
Mark 9 features one of my favorite encounters with Christ. There is a father seeking help for his child and he comes to Christ. Jesus says, if you have faith he will be healed... and the father cries out, " I believe, help my unbelief!" And I cry every time. Because, it is so real, standing there, eye to eye with Jesus, this father is humble enough to openly state, I do believe, but I am struggling, help my unbelief. My prayer, this Christmas is truly "Jesus, I believe, help my unbelief." May He, the Prince of Peace and Wonderful Counselor guide us this advent season.
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