Christmas Musings Day 11

Unfair Treatment

Isaiah 53:6 ⁶ All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.

               My understanding of Advent has changed with the passage of time. As a child, I focused on the presents found under the tree or in my stocking. Knowing that the gifts were coming, I eagerly awaited the arrival of the J. C. Penny’s and Sears catalogs. I remember sitting on our blue couch paging through the toy section earmarking toys I wanted, particularly the G.I. Joes. I also enjoyed decorating the tree, watching the Christmas specials and movies, driving around Abilene looking at the lights, and the sublime strains of Christmas carols; but in the end, I coveted the presents. In fact, on Christmas day my best friend Steve Harper and I would get together in the afternoon and compare our gifts. But somewhere along the way, something changed.

               Perhaps it was during the annual Harper, Thompson, and Robinson Christmas parties. Every year we gathered for a meal, Christmas carol singing, a reading of the story of Advent from the gospels, and a small gift exchange. Maybe it was the corporate familial worship, and yes, the HTR parties were family gatherings of the highest order. Those yearly gentle reminders, eagerly awaited, planted a seed that slowly germinated, and ever so gradually I began to understand what was going on during Advent. Most of our parents are gone now, home to be with Jesus, but they gave me a gift that still sweetens my life.

               Amid all the celebration, the music, the lights, the gifts, the food, and family, a stringent truth shines through. My iniquity caused Him to come, caused Him to sacrifice, and caused Him pain. I celebrate because of what He did. I went astray and He came to find me, accepting my guilt and shame, so, I do celebrate, joyously. Of course, there is a sober element to all of this; however, joy fills the season. So, every year during this time my mind goes back, back to the late sixties and seventies. I see the squirming little boy on the couch waiting anxiously to open a gift. I smile, knowing that those precious tender moments singing and reading the Advent story planted a seed that bears fruit today. My sin is gone. He carried it away so I can celebrate.