I sit at home on this Christmas Eve, and finally have the quiet to think. I should probably go to sleep. I have to get up early tomorrow to finish dinner preparations.
But not yet.
All day, I have heard the song ‘I Heard the Bells’ over and over again.
Peace on earth, good will to men.
I have faith that there will be peace on earth one day. But right now, there is so much wrong. I feel as if we are stuck in the second verse, repeating endlessly, despairingly, “There is no peace on earth.”
So much hate. So much selfishness. So much blind, willful ignorance and self-centeredness. It seems like the only way for there to be peace is for God to wipe us off the face of the earth and start over.
But that’s not what He chose to do.
Instead, He came down to earth with us. What sort of crazy sense does that make?
We could not fix ourselves, so instead of starting over from scratch, He became one of us.
The all-powerful Lord of the Universe subjected Himself to the indignity of becoming a baby.
Immanuel. God with us. Not over us, or above us or beyond us, because He is all of those things.
But with us.
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.”
“He will dwell among them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself will be among them, and He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away.”