Holidays - Seasons Greetings!

Unto them good tidings of great joy were brought! Not to the embattled castles of the strong of the earth; not to the busy gathering places of many men; not to halls of learning nor to the cloisters of the wise came the good tidings. Rather it fell like the rain upon the wind-swept, parched hills.

Into the clods of earth the breath of the good tidings was breathed. It opened the ears of dumb beasts to the voice of the eternal Shepherd. It fell, like the ripening sun, upon the hearts of men, bursting the burrs of earth that had held them and bringing forth the fruit of the Spirit of God. Never more could those men return to be the dumb, insensate men who followed dumb, insensate sheep. Their ears had heard the words that ring, from Eden to the Valley of Judgment, the Promise of Life!

Which shall be to all the people.

These few stuttering men upon the hills could not contain the good tidings. The hills and the mountains were not wide enough for it. The rocks would burst into speech of it. To every heart in all the lands in every time was the message.

The posting relays of Rome carried the word of a man by the Tiber to the ends of the earth with all the speed that flesh and blood could endure. The shrieking wind bore news swiftly from land to land, by the sea in ships. The ages would find other and yet other means to encircle the earth with news. But these good tidings to all the people should outstrip them all. This message leaping from heart to heart of all the world would draw the hearts of men together until it had welded them all into the one great heart of earth, beating to the measure of this good tidings.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior. With their senses still bathed in the supernal vision, their minds still a blank to all but the glow of light about them, their newly awakened souls leap to the word of the Promise. In the hearts of these men now, hearts which till now had been but lumps, surges up the longing of Israel for the coming of the Lord. Into their eyes comes the straining, expectant look of all the holy ones of God’s chosen. Father and priest and prophet and all the patient little ones of the long, long waiting come peering now through the eyes of these few. The souls of Adam and of Abel, the souls of Abraham and of David rose into the souls of these and exulted in God.

And the soul of the whole waiting world, the soul of those who fainted and were weary in hope deferred, took heart of life and believed in that hour forever. And the soul of the world unborn, looking timidly forward out of chaos, understood that the world before it was a world of light and hope.

Which is Christ the Lord.

Not any savior was this that was born this day. Not a king, nor any prince of the house of David who would lighten the burdens of Israel: not a leader this, who should fulfill the plans and hopes of aspiring men: this was Christ, the Lord God!

Their souls understood the saying. Their hearts leaped to it. But their senses could not comprehend, for this was a thing to which the senses did not reach.

Then the Angel of the Lord, seeing the bondage of their senses, took pity upon them; for their minds must have a sign.

And this shall be a sign unto you: Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

Thus was bridged the gulf between the sight of God which was to their hearts and the senses of men which ever wait feebly and lamely upon a sign. A sign was given them by which their senses might come to the God lying in His manger. Thus could they find Him.

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 to men of good will!

The triumphant chorus of Heaven breaks through the circle of the senses. Ears and eyes to which a sign has been given are miraculously attuned and focused to the soundless, invisible wonder. The dead earth springs to quick, pulsing life and is set vibrating to the music of Heaven.

Then the swelling, exulting diapason, to which all Heaven and earth rang, rolled on toward Bethlehem.

The darkness fell back upon the hills. The dumb beasts went on in the beaten ways of their instincts. Men stood peering dazedly into a redoubled blackness.

But those hills would never again be the same hills that had lain an hour before in their sere and unrelieved bleakness. That wonderful anthem of glory to God and joy to men-the only music of Heaven that ever was heard on earth-consecrated and shed a halo upon those hills forever. So long as the race of man inhabits the earth the hills of Bethlehem shall ring to the music of angel voices. With its last breath the world will sing that song of those hills.

Nor would those men be ever again the same. Through the curtain, they had seen the unspeakable glory of God. Their ears had listened to the very tones of Heaven, praising the Most High. Never would they be again as other men, moved by the common things and thoughts of life. Their souls had lived a moment in Heaven. Never would that vision leave their eyes. Never would sound or sight of earth be able to thrill their hearts or put wonder in them, for they had passed through the supreme, the illuminating experience. Neither death nor eternity, itself, would have a greater thing to show them.

Now that the choir of angels was gone from them, the sheep-herds found tongue. Each man was sure that he had seen and heard, but he was doubtful that such a thing could have happened to his neighbor. The straying sheep were forgotten while men ran together, comparing, questioning, piling wonder on wonder to each other.

But a sign had been given! When the veil of darkness had fallen before their eyes and the curtain of silence had again cut them off from the presence of Heaven, the sign remained with them.

In Bethlehem the Lord was born, this night! By the sign they would find Him-wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger!

They must hurry over to Bethlehem. These great tidings would not wait. They must be the first to adore the Christ.

Running, now striving to outstrip each other, now crowding timidly together, for fear was still upon them, they raced down from the hills and across the little plain to the slope where Bethlehem lay.

But they seemed to have forgotten the sign. They did not run looking for stables, where mangers would be. Human nature had come back upon them. Instead of following the sign, they ran knocking at the gates of the rich and the great ones. The habit of their servility told them to look among these; surely He must be born among these.