Updated on February 26, 2011
Do you remember what you received for Christmas when you were 6? How about 7? Or 8? Its nearly impossible for me to remember the gifts. But what I do remember, is priceless. I recall my sisters and me performing a play for my parents. I’ll never forget the great care my mother took in selecting the decorating theme for the tree each year. The year of the purple decorations was very memorable.
I also fondly remember the food, the family gatherings, and the time spent reflecting on what the Holiday was all about. This was especially true while we attended Church for the Midnight service on Christmas Eve. Often, my mother sang “O Holy Night” using the complete range of her powerful soprano voice. I still get chills when I hear that song.
During this Christmas Season, spend some time reflecting on the real reason we celebrate. Maybe you will create some wonderful memories of your own.
In the spirit of the season, here is one of my favorite poems. The author is unknown. Perhaps during a moment of humility, whoever crafted this masterpiece believed it inappropriate to claim credit.
Here is a man who was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman. He grew up in another village, and that a despised one. He worked in a carpenter shop for thirty years, and then for three years He was an itinerant preacher. He never wrote a book. He never held an office. He never owned a home. He never had a family. He never went to college. He never put His foot inside a really big city. He never traveled, except in his infancy, more than two hundred miles from the place where he was born. He had no credentials but Himself.
While still a young man, the tide of popular opinion turned against Him. His friends ran away. One of them betrayed Him. He was turned over to his enemies. He went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed upon a cross between two thieves. His executors gambled for the only piece of property He had on this earth, His seamless robe. When He was dead, He was taken down from the cross and laid in a borrowed grave through the courtesy of a friend. Nineteen wide centuries have come and gone, and today Jesus is the centerpiece of the human race, and the leader of all human progress.
I am well within the mark when I say that all the armies that ever marched, all the navies that were ever built, all the parliaments that have ever sat, and all the kings that have ever ruled put together have not affected the life of man upon this earth like this one solitary personality.
All time dates from His birth, and it is impossible to understand or interpret the progress of human civilization in any nation on earth apart from His influence. Slowly through the ages man is coming to realize that the greatest necessity in the world is not water, iron, gold, food and clothing, or even nitrate in the soil; but rather Christ enshrined in human hearts, thoughts and motives.