by Donna Poole
In the darkness on the hillsides a few miles from Bethlehem shepherds drew their cloaks closer against the chill, watched over their sheep, and rubbed away the cobwebs of sleep. No intruder, human or beast, would carry off an animal while they stood guard. Their eyes, accustomed to darkness, could notice even a flickering shadow of movement, and they looked in all directions, except up. And up is where the invasion came from, one that would forever change their lives.
A sudden flash brighter than lightning streaked the sky, and those tough outdoorsmen cowered in terror when an angel’s voice thundered above them.
“And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. 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. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.”
If the thunder of one angel voice wasn’t enough, the sky then reverberated with the sound of thousands of them shouting together. “And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”
But in the manger, where God had invaded earth in the form of a helpless baby, there was no thunder of angels. All was quiet. Mary’s groans had ended; the cry baby Jesus uttered at birth was now silent. All creation held its breath in the stillness of that winter’s night. What did baby Jesus see in that holy silence?
He saw the loving eyes of his young mother, the virgin Mary. He saw the face of the man he would cherish as his earthly father, Joseph. And let’s imagine for a moment, because it’s entirely possible, that he saw a cobweb, because, as we all know, cobwebs are everywhere.
“Annetta, would you like me to come over and help you clean your house before garden club meeting?”
“No thank you, Anna Mae. I guess I’m not so old yet I can’t clean my own house!”
“Okay, but last year when we had garden club meeting at your house, we all sat there staring at a big cobweb dangling from the ceiling.”
That’s human nature, isn’t it? Have your house 99.9 percent clean and people notice the cobweb.
Buy a Christmas tree thirty times without a mouse in it, but you’ll always remember the tree that did have one.
Be an amazing cook, good enough to rival Betty Crocker, and serve 1,000 perfect meals to friends and family. What will they remember and laugh about? The time you forgot to put that cup of sugar in a peach pie.
Have a perfectly oval face, flawless skin the envy of every night cream ever invented, and lashes that make Mabeline drool, and what will people notice? The one mole on your chinny chin chin.
Preach model sermons for fifty years and what will your congregation remember? They will snicker and snort about the Mother’s Day sermon when you intended to invite people to become Christians but instead said, “I sincerely hope if any of you are not mothers you will become one before you leave this place.”
Or, perhaps, be like the beautiful little girl with long blonde hair who came to church with a lovely dress and shining shoes, but the only thing anyone saw was the ice cream cone somehow stuck in her pony tail and unnoticed by her mother.
You might be Oliver who did not fall into his grandparents’ Christmas tree ten years but did for two years in a row when he was a toddler, and that’s the story that gets retold every Christmas.
Chuckles aside; what about the person who lives a wonderful life? They are a good partner, co-worker, neighbor, volunteer, parent, but in a moment of weakness they “sin a big sin.” What sin? It doesn’t matter, does it? It might be embezzlement, or infidelity, or any one of the sins that ruin reputations forever. That sin becomes the cobweb in the room; it’s all people see.
It’s not fair, is it? But it’s human nature. We may forgive, but we never truly forget.
Our wonderful, amazing, God of all grace does though. He says, “Your sins will I remember no more.”
How can a holy God forgive sin and not betray his own righteous nature? It has everything to do with that baby in the manger.
The angels promised peace and good will toward men, but it cost Jesus everything to give that to us. He lived a sinless life despite facing every temptation we face. He gave up everything to serve others and to show men the face of God the Father. And then, in a supreme act of sacrifice, he died on the cross…for us. The cross was far more than physical torture, though that’s beyond our wildest imaginations. On the cross Jesus took into his own heart every sin ever committed, felt the horrible pain and guilt of them, and, this part is the most astonishing of all to me, he made them not to be. That’s why a holy God can forgive a sinner who repents of sin and trusts in what Jesus did.
Let’s travel from the cross back to the manger. Cobweb? What cobweb? There’s not even one in sight. It’s truly a Merry Christmas, everyone.
And Oliver, you’re a big boy now, and quite unlikely to fall into the Christmas tree this year. But if you do, your grandma says it’s okay.
The end
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These blogs are now available in book form on Amazon:
Backroad Ramblings Volume One: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
Backroad Ramblings Volume Two: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
Backroad Ramblings Volume Three: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
Backroad Ramblings Volume Four: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
I have six other books on Amazon as well, four fiction books in the “Life at the Corners” series, and two children’s Christmas picture books.
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