It was just another cry from a newborn, his cries already muted by the sounds of animals sharing his birth place. He was one of the many little Hebrew lives entering the world that night, just one of the ones born in the cold to poor, struggling parents, on a journey not of their choosing.
All across Israel, an ordered census drew people to distant towns and faraway villages. A census of numbers, not the value of lives, mirrored the soul journeys of thousands searching for more. The cruel political climate is as dark as the night and the spiritual landscape, darker still. There seems no journey away from this oppression, no passage of freedom that affords an opportunity to breathe unhindered. This night poses questions from hearts chained and bound by a force more domineering that the oppressors now ruling this land.
Why was this child born?
Why this couple?
Why this little backwards town?
What child is this?
Into poisoned humanity a son is born, a baby wrapped in fragileness and vulnerability but with redemption blood flowing in his veins. He is a message of hope to a world looking for something or someone to put it out of its collective misery. This baby, needing the protection and nurturing of Mary and Joseph, is born for a world needing him. Needing light to dispel the darkness that seeks the souls of humanity, love to collect hearts back to the Father, peace for the minds overwhelmed by strife and forgiveness to free all corrupted by sin’s disease.
When Jesus came, redemption came and courageously reclaimed sons and daughters for the Kingdom. Messiah came, deliverance came, the Good News came, and life more abundantly came. Born of a virgin, God imparts Himself into humanity and births new life for world looking for a way to live again. Immanuel…God with us, always with us.
What child is this?
This, this is Christ the King…my King!
“She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” Matthew 1:21