when i read about the birth of Jesus, all humble and unexpected and whatnot, it's easy to skim through it. it's something i've heard before, something i'm used to talking about: yep, he came as a baby to save us from our sin, God loves us, got it. now let's talk about some obscure old testament story i don't fully understand yet.
first of all, that's such a terrible, dismissive attitude. secondly, that line of thinking doesn't show that i really understand what a sacrifice it was.
to fully understand God's grace, i have to be upfront about how horrific and ugly my sin is, and not in a self-pitying kind of way. all my sin--the egregious mistakes and the little things that go unnoticed--is what separates me from God. i generally have a very self-righteous attitude (read: i'm an actual pharisee and probably would have been right there with them, thanking God i'm not like the poor sinners all loudly in a long-winded prayer), but in order to understand just how much God's forgiveness means, i have to come to terms with how far my sin has distanced us.
which is why it's mind-blowing (and not a trite, repetitive december story) that God sent THE ONLY KID HE'S GOT down here so that he could get mollywhopped by the calloused haters that needed him the most. his sacrifice is overwhelming, something i can never thank him enough for.
that brings me to christmas. because of Jesus' death and the fact he didn't stay dead, i'm allowed to have conversations with God--not as the broken plebian i am, but as his child. (what whaaat! all the praise-hand emojis here.) because Jesus came to earth, i have the option to receive his grace, which more than covers over my list of failures.
o holy night
the stars are brightly shining
it is the night of our dear savior's birth
long lay the world in sin and error pining
til he appeared and the soul felt it's worth
a thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices
for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn
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