Good News of Great Joy

It's Christmas and I love it. I love all of it. I love the music, the lights, the movies, the food, the general warmth. I don't sweat the commercialism and we do a very simple Christmas so I'm not too stressed out about it.

But there is a Christmas inside that is so difficult to explain.

Two thousand years ago the world was bent by the enormous load of grief that comes with knowing it's not supposed to be like this. Everyone tried harder to do things right, to think of another sacrifice that would make them okay, give them a clean slate, un-tarnish them. They made more rules and tried every way they knew how to make life, to make themselves into what they knew they should be. More loving, kinder, more generous and compassionate.

But what they really needed was a word from the God who seemed so silent, distant and demanding. How could they ever climb to where He was? Surely He could make everything right, but how would they ever get to Him?

Only a few years ago I was bent by that same load of grief. I knew the world was not as it should be. I knew I was not as I should be. I felt broken and tarnished and ruined in a thousand ways.

What I really needed was a word from God, who seemed so silent, distant and demanding. I knew He could make it right, but how could I ever climb to where he was? Every time I tried to clean myself up I made the mess worse.

So, to a world that was broken beyond repair, to me, damaged beyond recognition, He came.

Emmanuel, the final Word on where God stands in relation to those suffering from our own badness or the badness of others or a little of both: God is with us. The God who seemed so distant came. He didn't send a word or a message or a prophet. He came. He couldn't imagine leaving us to suffer alone, so He came and suffered with us. And offered us a whole new heart.

My friends are all really good at thinking of ways to teach their kids about the real meaning of Christmas, but I find that I am not. I can show my toddler a baby in a manger and tell her about Jesus' birthday, but how can she understand what it means to be the weary world, rejoicing with a thrill of hope. Real hope.

Not the hope of a new diet or a new time management plan or a new resolution, the hope of a new heart when you think all hope is gone.

My wonderful pastor, Duane, explained the difference between "good news" and "great joy" this way: Good news is hearing that someone sent out a check for $100,000 to change someone's life. Great joy is when it's you that's receiving the check.

So I will add a new prayer for my children. I pray that they know the good news of Christmas, but also that it becomes their own Great Joy. I pray that Emmanuel will be with them, too, and will write their stories someday as He has rewritten mine.