December 2008 Devotionals
December 22, 2008
“Help Us Rightly to Remember the Birth of Jesus”
A Christmas Prayer by Robert Louis Stevenson
Help us rightly to remember the birth of Jesus,
that we may share in the song of the angels,
the gladness of the shepherds,
and the worship of the Wise men.
Close the door of hate,
And open the door of love all over the world.
Let kindness come with every gift,
And good desires with every greeting.
Deliver us from evil by the blessing
that Christ brings,
And teach us to be merry
with clear hearts.
May the Christmas morning
make us happy to be Thy children,
And the Christmas evening
bring us to our beds with grateful thoughts,
Forgiving and forgiven, for Jesus’ sake.
Amen
May this prayer be answered in our own hearts this Christmas!
- Elizabeth Rice Handford
December 15, 2008
God So Loved Us That He Gave . . .
A Christmas Meditation with Elizabeth Rice Handford
It’s probably the best-known verse (and best loved) in the Bible, and it expresses most beautifully the essence of Christmas:
For God so loved the world . . .
That He gave His only-begotten Son . . .
That whosoever believeth in Him
Should not perish, but have everlasting life.
—John 3:16
One pagan god required his worshipers to fling their babies into his molten hot arms, to appease his wrath.
Another pagan god demanded his worshiper’s own life be sacrificed in order to gain paradise.
Another religion said “Be good,” but offered no help to make anyone good.
Another simply said, “Don’t desire anything,” but how could a worshiper not desire what his god told him to desire?
Only Jesus said, “I love you. I will give my life for you.”
All other gods say, “Gimme.” Only Jesus says, “Let me share all my treasures with you.”
And that’s why Christmas is such a wonderful time of the year!
December 8, 2008
“I Do Not Understand”
A Conversation with Elizabeth Rice Handford
The Christmas story is so familiar and dear to us. I wonder how someone who’d never heard it would respond? Perhaps like this?
She was a young Peace Corps volunteer, stationed deep in the heart of an Asian nation. She’d known she would be lonely at Christmas, so she’d packed a small creche from her childhood. A sheep was missing a floppy ear; a wise man’s gift was tarnished and battered. But as she put each little figure into the rustic shelter, she enjoyed the old, sweet story of Christmas, and was comforted.
But one of her students saw it and was perplexed. “This is what?” he asked.
“A manger scene. It’s about the birth of Jesus, the King. He’s the Son of God.”
“A god? A king? On straw? With dirty animals? Explain, please?”
“God—the God who made us—loves us and wants us to be with Him forever.”
“Odd! But why?”
The girl shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “Just because He loves us.”
“Who are these fancy people?”
“They are wise men who traveled a long, long way, so they could see King Jesus.”
He picked up an angel. “And these ladies with wings?”
“Angels. God sent them to tell everybody that Jesus was born so they could go to Heaven with Him.”
“This star?”
“God sent the star to show people where the Baby Jesus was born.”
He picked up a ragged little shepherd, carrying a lamb. “Why would they let somebody so poor and ugly come to see Him?”
“Because He is King for every one, not just rich people.”
He picked up the tiny manger with the baby Jesus in it. “You say He is king?”
“Yes, greatest king.”
“He now king in America?”
“No,” the girl answered sadly. “Bad people killed Him.”
Disdain twisted the man’s face. “A god who came to help people, and they killed him? Stupid people.”
The girl nodded. “But God planned it that way. King Jesus died so we wouldn’t have to die. Someday He will come back to earth and really be king. Then we will all worship Him.”
But the young man went away, deeply mystified. “I do not understand. A King who loved his people, and wanted to help them? And they didn’t want Him? They made Him be born in a dirty barn with farm animals all around? He came to give them life, and they hated Him? . . . Very strange. Very strange. I wish my god loved me like that, instead of hating me. I would be happy, yes, very happy. I wonder why people don’t want Him? I wish He would come to my village. I would welcome Him, yes, I would!”