W hen the Word came to dwell among us, He did so in a whisper. He was not flanked by legions of the Heavenly host or announced by a mighty trumpet blast. He came in the hush of a cold winter’s night, born of a virgin, surrounded by farm animals and beasts of burden. The Creator had become part of His creation.

 

His palace was a stable and His throne a manger, accessible to even the poorest of the poor. How fitting it was that His first adorers were temple shepherds whose job it was to watch over the sacrificial lambs that would be used as the Passover sacrifice. They found Jesus wrapped in the same swaddling linens they used to wrap the lambs to keep them free from blemish.

 

The Magi, or “king makers,” came to pay him homage, bringing Him gifts typically only given to royalty. Gold points to Christ’s kingship, frankincense to His divinity, and myrrh to both His humanity and death. The visit of the Magi foretold the good news that had yet to be revealed. 

 

The Bethlehem star bathed the earth in a glorious light, filling the hearts of the faithful with hope that the long-awaited Messiah would soon be among them. It was the first witness of Christ’s birth and a beacon to the world that God had sent His son fulfilling His promise foretold by Isaiah. 

 

Let that same light burn brightly within us, filling us with hope and joy. May it radiate through us in all that we say and do so that the glory of God may be seen as brightly today as it was on that first Christmas morning. Let this be our gift to the world, a gift of love wrapped in humility with a ribbon of joy.