“O come let us Adore Him, O come let us adore Him, O come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord!”
It’s the anthem of the season. Those whose eyelids droop under another minor rendition of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel” rouse when the strains of this song begin. It brings Christmas from far away and long ago to our present day.
In a society that feeds moral relativism to our children, we do not feel the stigma of a child Bride-to-be and her unbelievable story. Our miracles are more believable or at least less tangibly evident than a womb filled with life fathered only by God.
We cannot fully appreciate a rough-hewn feed trough and a barn that was really a cave. No, we lay our babies in Jenny Lind cribs and labor in sterilized hospital beds.
Ah! But every Blood-purchased Christian can sing from the heart: “O come, let us adore Him!” The cherished Child has become our Savior and the newborn King reigns in the depths of our souls.
I read my Christmas devotional and purpose to slow down this Christmas. I decide to stop and really worship. To bow low at the manger and breathe soft as I look into His face.
But there is the Christmas baking to do and a light display field trip. There’s that holiday party this weekend and a pile of presents to wrap. The kids’ stockings have yet to be filled, and all of them need new dress shoes for their Christmas play at church. And what on earth am I going to make for Christmas dinner and will we open presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning this year?
It’s easy for my eyes to leave His sweet face and sweep around the stable. Should those shepherds with the stench of the sheep fold be crowding that close to the Baby? Wonder just how expensive those gifts were brought by the Magi? Why don’t they give Him something more presentable to wear? And would you look out the stable door at that Star? Now there’s a great homeschool astronomy project!
Then, He stirs among the hay and begins to cry. Yes, with all due respect to the carol, I think Jesus cried. He is the Word, and the whole meaning of His coming was to communicate with a fallen world. And how else does a baby communicate but with a lusty cry? Those stable-cries echoed later as He lamented the fact that He would have gathered Jerusalem under His wings but they struggled free from the warmth of His redemption. And Jesus cried again at the tomb of Lazarus when He felt the sting of death and sorrow with His friends. And then, His final cry: “It. Is. Finished!”
That’s the cry that echoes still. The one that both haunts and thrills me this Christmas as I peer into the manger. The cry that draws my attention away from all the trappings and the reminders of Christmas and fixes it again on the Reason for it all. His work that began at the Garden Tree and culminated on the Roman Tree is now finished!
And the carol rings even clearer into the present with our modern addition:
“We’ll give Him all the glory! We’ll give Him all the glory! For He alone is worthy, Christ the Lord!”