For the past few posts, I’ve shared my distaste for the yuletide season. You will have to admit that we have gotten a bit ridiculous as it concerns Christmas. We have blowups of every cartoon character imaginable. This year we were able to add a miniature Graceland to our Christmas village.
Really, Christmas overloads the senses. We have flashing lights, loud music, men and women ringing bells for good causes, throngs of shoppers filling the malls like cattle shoots. This has become the mutation of the holiday.
In reality, Christmas started so unassumingly.
Though my dislike of the Christmas trappings, the meaning of Emmanuel has become real to me this Christmas season.
However many thousands of years ago, two unassuming and unsuspecting, normal, everyday, run of the mill people welcomed the savior of the world in a stable. Emmanuel, God with us.
That night, without pomp and circumstance, the God that created the universe. The God that placed each star so delicately in the sky, and named them accordingly became flesh. He became a baby that pooped and sneezed and “snoted”. Jesus, the Savior, had to learn how to walk and talk and play well with others.
It was the first time in the history of the world that the Creator became a part of the creation so that He would know the human experience intimately.
I love this flash mob video. In a mall food court, where life is normal for the season, people of all races, colors, and creeds proclaim the birth of the savior. Singing, what seems to be, an impromptu performance of the Hallelujah Chorus.
This video reminds me of what the night was like when Christ was born. People were going about their business. They were shopping. They were eating and talking. They were living their everyday lives with no idea or conception of what was happening. The Savior of the world was born on a pile of hay in the middle of nowhere wearing scraps.
I hope that you can take a moment, out of the hustle and bustle of what has become the norm of Christmas, to reflect. I hope that you will think about the child that was born that was fully God and fully man. I hope that you can ponder the enormity of our miniscule lives without the flashing lights, the obnoxious yard displays, and the excessive consumerism.
It all started with a loving God and a crying baby.
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An Unassuming Night
For the past few posts, I’ve shared my distaste for the yuletide season. You will have to admit that we have gotten a bit ridiculous as it concerns Christmas. We have blowups of every cartoon character imaginable. This year we were able to add a miniature Graceland to our Christmas village.
Really, Christmas overloads the senses. We have flashing lights, loud music, men and women ringing bells for good causes, throngs of shoppers filling the malls like cattle shoots. This has become the mutation of the holiday.
In reality, Christmas started so unassumingly.
Though my dislike of the Christmas trappings, the meaning of Emmanuel has become real to me this Christmas season.
However many thousands of years ago, two unassuming and unsuspecting, normal, everyday, run of the mill people welcomed the savior of the world in a stable. Emmanuel, God with us.
That night, without pomp and circumstance, the God that created the universe. The God that placed each star so delicately in the sky, and named them accordingly became flesh. He became a baby that pooped and sneezed and “snoted”. Jesus, the Savior, had to learn how to walk and talk and play well with others.
It was the first time in the history of the world that the Creator became a part of the creation so that He would know the human experience intimately.
I love this flash mob video. In a mall food court, where life is normal for the season, people of all races, colors, and creeds proclaim the birth of the savior. Singing, what seems to be, an impromptu performance of the Hallelujah Chorus.
This video reminds me of what the night was like when Christ was born. People were going about their business. They were shopping. They were eating and talking. They were living their everyday lives with no idea or conception of what was happening. The Savior of the world was born on a pile of hay in the middle of nowhere wearing scraps.
I hope that you can take a moment, out of the hustle and bustle of what has become the norm of Christmas, to reflect. I hope that you will think about the child that was born that was fully God and fully man. I hope that you can ponder the enormity of our miniscule lives without the flashing lights, the obnoxious yard displays, and the excessive consumerism.
It all started with a loving God and a crying baby.
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