The shepherds hail God’s name!
The Heavens sing, the sheep bow down,
all earth now greets Shalom!
Peace we prayed for now has come
The galaxy proclaims,
“He who loves you has been born
Come greet Him, Christ the Lord!”
Born for grief, this little One
His mother’s heart pierced through
Peace and Justice will prevail
God’s Mystery unveiled.
May you have a very blessed, Christ-focused Christmas!
Enjoy a repost from December 2016...
"You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger."
"The little Lord Jesus lay down His sweet head."
"Holy infant so tender and mild"
"Glory to the newborn King"
Desperate husband, soon...new life!
Big dark city, small dank stable
Sounds of livestock, bright starlight
Bedding down in hay for horses
Frightened mother, strange still night
Pain is coursing, man is pacing
Time is birthing God’s own Son!
Red and wrinkled, baby Savior
Are you the Long Expected One?
Great rejoicing with the angels!
Great rejoicing in the field!
All at once, time races forward
Grace now present, Word fulfilled
Awestruck wonder, man is speechless
Grateful heart and weary soul
Gently kneeling low to greet him
Welcome baby, welcome Lord!
Anna’s prayers were interrupted by a loud voice--a deep, booming voice--announcing something in the temple courts. As she got up stiffly, slowly, she could just make out the words, “...a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory to your people Israel!” What...or who... was this light, this glory? Opening the door of her room slightly, she could see a young couple and an old man. Was that the weaver, Simeon? What did he hold in his arms? Was it a lamb? A sacrifice to cover his offenses? The bundle was small, swaddled in a worn serving cloth; it began to move, then cry. It was a baby! The weaver was holding a baby!
It had been a sweet seven years. Though Anna and her husband ached for a child of their own, they had become content in their togetherness and the simple routines of life. Then tragedy struck; Anna’s beloved husband, Adah, had been working on a grand structure --a tall and majestic theater--for most of their short marriage. One gray autumn afternoon, just after the mid-day break, an angry storm rolled in from the east. With one gust of its violent breath, the wind toppled the scaffolding which held Adah. Thrown to the ground, Adah was killed instantly, pinned by the stones which had once provided for his life. Now homeless and hopeless, Anna begged the priest to allow her to live in one of the empty storage rooms which lined the front wall of the temple. Normally used to store worship items and fuel for the altar fires, this small, windowless room had been abandoned in favor of the larger ones nearer the rear door. Close to the temple courts, it allowed Anna direct access to the people that came there. These people, the regulars to the temple, became the family that she had lost when Adah died. Ministering to these same people became the focus of her meager, but fulfilled, existence. She used her long days, sometimes fasting, always praying, to lift these people to the Lord. Anna, a prophetess of God, often sensed the burdens of those God brought into her presence, and praying for them, sent them on their way confident that they had met God through her words. Her quiet contentment with God’s sovereign plan had pulled her out of her own hopelessness nearly 70 decades earlier. She had learned to hope in Him and wanted others to do the same.
Anna’s mind was jolted back to the present by another shrill wail. It was the cry of a newborn. The old man handed the baby carefully back to the mother. Was she crying as well? Slipping on her sandals, Anna opened her door wider and stepped out into the court. The baby’s cries had stilled. But all was not quiet. The old man began shouting, “He is here! He is here! Messiah is here! He has come!” The Messiah? The Lord’s Anointed? The Deliverer for whom she had prayed? As she neared the baby and his parents, a strong stinging breeze moved a strand of gray hair across her face. As she pushed it back into place beneath her scarf, her spirit also cried; “Yes! He is here! He is the One!” Anna had long ago learned to trust those spirit promptings, and her shuffling steps moved quickly towards the child. A song erupted in her soul and came out of her mouth as she greeted his parents and the elderly weaver, “Today I have seen my long awaited Messiah! This baby is my Lord!” Tears streaming down her lined face, she kissed the tiny cheek and placed a gnarled hand upon his downy head. The other hand she placed upon his mother, and she blessed them saying, “May this Tender One be a light for all of those in darkness as he brings glory to the Holy Father. May you, Holy Father, guard this mother’s heart as she learns to trust in your plan.” The prophetess left the trio then, gratefully proclaiming Messiah’s appearance. The baby’s mother was overcome with emotion...or was it confusion? She and the baby’s father, toting twin turtle doves in a wicker cage, carried their sacrifice toward the temple’s altar.
As she entered her dark room, Anna’s bright mood turned to sorrow. Recalling the prophet Isaiah 53, read last Shabbat by the visiting Rabbi, Anna knew that this child was born to bear her iniquities--the ones now temporarily “covered” with the blood of animals;“By His knowledge the Righteous One, My Servant, will justify the many, as He will bear their iniquities.” This sin-bearing Messiah was God’s plan of old--from the beginning of time! How Messiah would do that, she did not know. But, that he would do it was certain. Did she feel her hope returning? He had been sent to live in Shalom. He had been sent to love his own. He had been sent to save all sinners. He had been sent... the Perfect Lamb.
No, Anna had not brought a child into her home, though she wished and hoped for one. But now, this baby, this Glorious Child whom she had kissed with her lips and touched with her hands, this Messiah, had come for her--for her! Sent from Heaven to subdue sin and defeat death, this baby was God’s perfect plan. His birth would prepare him for death.
And his death would usher her Home.
This Christmas season, I wanted to prepare by myself by imagining the lives, thoughts, and musings of some of the people in the Christmas story. Today's character is Simeon, and he appears in Luke 2.
Another sunrise for Simeon. Simeon had seen hundreds of sunrises in his 79 years. Built into the low-lying limestone cliffs that surrounded Jerusalem, his family home had an east facing door which Simeon swung open to greet the sun. Young Simeon and his father had baked mud bricks to form walls for the exposed sides of the structure. A wooden staircase led out of the home’s front door, turned at a 90-degree angle and ended up directly at the entrance to the busy Jerusalem market. It was in this market that Simeon sold the woven fabric that he created. Others called Simeon a Tarsim, or master weaver, but Simeon was simply providing for his family in the way that his father had provided, and his Zaydeh before that. Simeon’s hands seemed made for the loom, but lately, his weaving was slow, his hands stiff and sore. More and more, Simeon’s grandsons were taking his spot on the weaver’s stool, their deft and skilled hands providing products for the increasing market demand.
Today, as with all days, Simeon rose slowly like the sun that showed its first red rays through his door. He gathered the shuttle and began to rhythmically guide it through the weft; over, under, over, under, over, under. Such a familiar motion allowed his mind to ruminate. Was it all just a dream? Last night, as he lay on his mat, his wife breathing softly in sleep, a voice spoke to him.
“Simeon, though your hands grow tired on the distaff and your bones become weary from the work, you will not die until you see the Lord’s Messiah! He is here!”
Simeon’s heart beat wildly…the Lord’s promised Messiah! He was here? In Jerusalem? The prophet Micah proclaimed that the Lord’s anointed would be born in Bethlehem, “But you, O Bethlehem…, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel, whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days.” Why would Messiah be in Jerusalem? Simeon, falling into fitful sleep, dreamt wild dreams of this grand warrior who would save his people from their oppressors. Now, awake and alert, he worked and wondered about the presence of the Messiah. Would he be at the temple? Did he possess a caravan to display his mighty power? As if to add emphasis to that thought, a powerful wind blew his door shut and raised goosebumps on the back of his neck. Feeling suddenly compelled, Simeon put down the shuttle, quickly grabbed his outer mantle, and, with unfamiliar vigor, made his way down the wooden staircase. As he stepped to the street, earlier than his normal mid-day appearance, he was nearly overrun by a noisy group of boys on their way to the synagogue for Torah school. Simeon was also headed to the synagogue, but not for school. Simeon was on his way to meet Messiah! Righteous and devout, Simeon regularly visited the temple to make sacrifices for his family and to listen to the traveling Rabbi’s teaching. But now, following the unruly group, his mind raced to the previous night’s mysterious words and passing the surprised boys, he entered into the outer court.
“He is here!” “He is here!”
Simeon’s mind could think of nothing else. He scanned the court, looking for an impressive figure, a kingly presence, but his eyes saw nothing but a poor young couple meekly entering the court carrying a baby. Suddenly, the Spirit within him spoke again,
“He is here! The baby they are dedicating today is Messiah!”
When he was just a boy, Simeon’s mother told him the meaning of his name: “God is listening.” God had graciously heard Simeon’s plea for the coming of the King--God’s chosen Messiah…but this baby… was him? Wasn’t Messiah the One who would be victorious and save the nation of Israel? This “warrior” was a helpless babe.
“He is here!”
Now it was Simeon’s turn to listen, and filled with the Spirit of God, he approached the little family exclaiming, “He is here--Messiah!” Motioning to them, he took the boy in his hands, and praised God saying,
“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised,
you may now dismiss your servant in peace.
For my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the sight of all nations:
a light for revelation to the Gentiles,
and the glory of your people Israel.”
The child’s father and mother, weary and worn from travel, marveled at what was said about him. Then Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother: “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Tears of anticipated grief fell upon Mary’s scarf as she looked on her baby in Simeon’s embrace and wondered at the events which would surely take place. Simeon’s rough hand touched her cheek, and he carefully placed the infant in her arms. “God is here…and here,” pointing to the child. “My eyes have truly seen his glory.” Then Simeon left the family as he exited the temple courts.
Now, as he wandered through the now-busy market, he was struck by the Lord’s unceasing attentiveness to his people. God was listening, and the Master Weaver of history had used Simeon’s hands--his old and aching hands-- to show the beauty of His ancient plan! God had carefully ordained a rescue with an unexpected Rescuer, interwoven with the life of Simeon, to display his tapestry of grace toward man!
“He is here!” “He is here!”
Simeon could now die fulfilled. Today his eyes marveled at the sunrise. Today, his soul exulted in the Son. Today, his human hands held Heaven’s Rescue. Today Messiah had come!
“He is here!”