The Night the Angels Sang, Part 2

For the rest of his days, Judah could not explain how it all happened, but it was as though God directed them directly to the stable where the Messiah lay.

The three shepherds entered the old stable warily. Judah’s senses immediately took in the surroundings. First was the mixed smell of moldy hay and fresh, clean hay and the unsavory odor of manure from the pens. Filling the room were the chorus of hee-haws; the soft, snorting and nickering and pawing of horses; the low, brooding moo of cattle, which were all very numerous with the huge influx of people that had come to Bethlehem for the taxation. As Judah’s eyes began to adjust to the darkness of the indoors—his eyes were still dazzled by the sights of the angelic visit—he could see dusty cobwebs hanging from rafter to rafter and netting across the hay. He could depict the forms of the cattle, donkeys, horses, and even a few camels. Finally his eyes rested on the sight he was looking for: a young girl, lying amongst the strewn hay; a young man sitting next to her; and before them a low manger, the animals’ feeding trough. Instinctively, Judah took a step closer.

The young man sitting by the woman looked up with large brown eyes, his face marked with rigor, courage, contentment, and love. A brief glance of his eyes served as a survey of the visitors—the very impromptu and perhaps intrusive visitors, Judah felt that he might be thinking. Then the man spoke with a hint of surprise in his voice: “My good men. To what do we owe this visit?”

Alphaeus, the leader as usual, stepped forward. Judah’s eyes flashed from him to the young man to the little figure in the manger—tiny, red, and still. Awe enveloped him as his father spoke: “Forgive us for barging in on you in the way. But—we were given a grand announcement from heaven and—well, we came to see if we might see the—the Messiah. They—they said we would know him by—they said he would be wrapped in swaddling clothes and—and lying in a manger.”

The young woman, who had awakened upon the shepherds’ entrance, turned her wan face towards them, and a light of joy—or something more, Judah could not tell—crossed her tired face, and her parched lips parted in a soft smile. The smile was all the answer the shepherds needed. They reverently approached the very modest, rough feeding trough to have a full glimpse at the one promised by God from the days of Adam. Judah took in the sight with awe. There was nothing apparently outstanding about this baby. He was tiny, and wrapped in plain white swaddling cloths, his eyes were shut tight and he was puckering his mouth a little; and on his head was a soft black fuzz. He was beautiful, and it awed Judah’s heart that this tiny, helpless little baby was actually the Messiah of the world.

“But why are you here?” Alphaeus spoke up with a note of concern in his voice. “This is no place for One so great to enter the world—any child, for that matter.”

“I am afraid we had no other choice, save the streets,” replied the man Joseph, gravely. “There was no room in the inn, but they let us stay here.”

“No room!” Alphaeus repeated the words in the same tenderness. “No room for the Messiah, the Savior?” He looked softly at the sleeping child, and then carefully lifted him out of the manger to his broad chest. “Oh, my Lord,” he whispered, resting the Christ Child against his shoulder, “but there is room in my heart for You.”

To an uninformed beholder, the child in Alphaeus’ arms would seem like just any other baby. But Judah’s eyes, which had beheld the wondrous sights of the angelic heralds of goodwill, knew that this was no ordinary baby. Inside that infant body was the Spirit of the Living God Himself, God in the form of a created human being. This was fully God—and yet He was fully human. It was in that moment that a thought dawned on Judah. The Messiah did not come to overthrow Roman tyranny in a powerful wield of the sword, with banners flying over Him and the shouts of warriors around Him. He had come that night in human flesh to fleshly humans to turn their hearts to Himself—He came quietly, and yet He would change the world.

The Night the Angels Sang, Part 1

I wrote this story back in March when reading through the book of Luke. I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Judah stretched himself out on his back on the grass which was dampened by the cool night mist. He let out a quiet, contented sigh as he gazed on the immaculate dome above him. How he loved a night like this! Not a cloud marred the sparkling display above. A slight, cool breeze swept over the hill and down to the town of Bethlehem slightly beyond. The sheep grazed peacefully, at ease in the knowledge of the care and skill of their keepers. And Judah could lay there in the same peacefulness, as though he were under a spell cast by the beauty of the night, and he could pick out pictures made by the stars above—beautiful pictures that his father had taught him to find during the many nights out in the fields, watching sheep. Judah liked to think that all the pictures worked together to tell a marvelous tale of excitement and adventure.

Some perhaps might find a shepherd’s life dull, inferior, and undesirable. True, there were long, hot days, and long, cold nights; exposure to wind, rain, dust, and the scoffing of others; there were stubborn sheep that refused to listen and caused no end of trouble to the shepherds: searching, shouting, climbing, putting themselves into all kinds of peril to bring them back. And yet there was something about this work that drew Judah. What it was, he could not exactly tell. Perhaps it was the freedom to roam. Maybe it was the delight of caring for—and even bonding with—God’s creatures, out in God’s creation—something few people had a chance to do. But perhaps the reason was nights like these—all the tumults and struggles of the world were quietly left behind, forgotten, for some time, in the mere joy and peace of being as close to God’s original desire for beauty and order as possible. Rome might control the land, it might lay heavy taxation on the people and require registrations—as was the new decree of Caesar’s, in action that very day in the town below—, people might hate and hurt each other… But no one could touch those beautiful, twinkling skies overhead or mar the massive dome. No one could hurt them or move them or change them. Those were God’s stars, and, in Judah’s perspective, like little peepholes into His even more magnificent splendor. Judah wasn’t sure he could ever bear to see a full display of God’s glory and splendor—how terrifying it would be!—and yet he was glad for these peepholes.

“I say it’s time He step in and do something. This world is going down fast.” Judah’s reverie was broken by these agitated words, spoken by a fellow-shepherd, Jonas. Judah hadn’t noticed that there was a conversation going on until just then, and, as much as he wished to hold to the glory of the moment, his interest was too piqued now to return to that. He propped himself up on his elbow and listened to his father’s reply.

“Yes, I also long for the day when God vindicates His people Israel and shows us His glory and redemption,” Alphaeus was answering, his tone of voice confirming the word he had used—“long”.

“Does He not care?” Jonas exclaimed, almost despairingly. “Come, Alphaeus, do you not also wonder that such a great and mighty God can look upon the plight of His own people and let it go on as if it were none of His business?”

His question was following by a long pause, broken only by the soft whisper of the breeze and the quiet bleating of a few sleepless sheep. Judah knew his father well enough to know that this pause was not caused by doubt on his part, or from a feeling of being beaten. He was merely collecting his thoughts, which at least he voiced: “We do not deserve His attentions. We, our people, have rejected His Word, His work, His prophets… We have stubbornly chosen to go our own way, despite His invitation to return. Why would He want to aid us now? And yet—” Jonas had been about to protest, but the “yet” caused him to fall back silently and wait. “And yet,” Alphaeus continued, “I think—I hope—I believe, even—He does see. He must see. He is a God of mercy. If He were not, this world we live in would be burnt to a crisp in no time at all. God has promised redemption, salvation… Messiah. I do not know when He will fulfill this promise, but I know—I know He will, at the perfect time, just as he did in rescuing our people from bondage in Egypt. But oh, that He would act soon!”

This brought a lull in the conversation, which gave Judah time to think. He loved to hear his father speak in this way. He knew that when Alphaeus was a child, he had listened in rapture to the Scriptures read and expounded on the Sabbath, and gleaned all he could of the Sacred Writ. What he had learned, he had taken to heart and then shared them with his children. Judah loved to sit at his father’s feet on the long, lone days of watching sheep, and listen to the great stories of God’s miraculous works in Israel, and to His precious promises in the Psalms and the Prophets. Judah never felt it was his place to voice it, but he, too, wanted to see God fulfill His promise to send a messiah to free His people from this bondage under Rome. And yet he had heard the promise so often repeated by his father, and it sounded so far away—in the past or the future, he knew not—but he wondered if it could possibly happen in his lifetime.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Oh! Oh, God, have mercy! Have mercy on us!”

The terrified voices again brought Judah to reality. He hadn’t realized until now that at some point his thoughts had grown muddy and he had drifted off to sleep. Now he jerked up at the sound of the voices and became aware of a strange brightness—bright, brighter than the sun—surrounding them, tearing the night sky. Judah looked—and instantly the terror that had enveloped his father and Jonas jumped at him and wrapped him up like a spider does a fly that wandered into her net. For there, in the sun-like magnificence was a man—or at least he looked like a man, and yet at the same time was quite unlike anything Judah had ever seen. The man’s clothes were white and reflected the light so that it almost pained Judah’s eyes to behold. The shining man, the shining garments, the shining sky terrorized the boy, and he fell on his face with muffled cries similar to that of the other shepherds. What was happening? Was this God? Woe to them if it were, for no man could see God and live, Judah had heard, and now he had an inkling why. The brightness nearly blinded him, and he covered his eyes in terror. He clung to the grass, as he seemed to be whirling around in the dizziness of the moment.

“Fear not,” said a warm, unfamiliar voice. The words were like a warm breeze passing over Judah, and his soul began to feel a calmness. He slowly unscrewed his eyelids and peered warily at the glorious display. The shining man was still there, and he was speaking with a tone of mixed compassion, joy, authority… and many other things that Judah couldn’t make out.

“Fear not,” he was saying, “for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy that shall be for all people.”

A tingle of thrill shot down Judah’s back at the words—“good tidings”, “joy”, “all people”. The dread of the moment did not seem quite so great as those words of goodwill came from the heavenly man’s mouth.

“For unto you,” the shining man continued with joy, “is born this day in the city of David—”

That’s Bethlehem, thought Judah.

“—A Savior, who is Messiah, the Lord.”

The words struck Judah like a blacksmith’s anvil, and he could sense the shock from Alphaeus and Jonas as well. Messiah? The Savior? The promised redeemer? Could he really be hearing this man right? Or was this a dream, carried over from the conversation he had overheard that very night?

It was as though the angel anticipated or sensed their doubt, for he then said, “This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby, wrapped in swaddling cloths, and lying in a manger.”

A manger? Judah scarcely had the time to register the thought—Messiah, born in a stable?—for suddenly the angel was joined by an innumerable host. It was as though all the stars had drawn close and were all ablaze on that Palestinian hill, singing in loud, triumphant strains:

“Glory to God in the highest,

and on earth peace, good will toward men!”

The glory was petrifying; the news was petrifying. For a moment, Judah wondered if he had actually died in his sleep and was actually at heaven’s gates. But then, quietly, like a fire being smothered, the heavenly host vanished, the herald among them, and there was again the still night and the cloudless dome of sky—only the stars seemed so much dimmer.

It seemed like a whole minute had passed when Jonas finally said in a shaking voice, “Alphaeus, did you just see what I just saw?”

Alphaeus nodded mutely.

“Did you hear what I just heard?” Jonas added.

Again, Alphaeus nodded, but no words came from his gaping mouth.

“Judah!” Jonas hurried to the boy on shaky legs and grabbed his shoulder as if to make sure he was real. “Judah, did you see a bright light, and a shining man, and a heaven-like choir, and did you hear them say that Messiah was born in Bethlehem yonder?”

“I did.” Judah nodded, realizing that his whole body was in tremors. Silence, strange silence, filled the night air. Realization settled on Judah. He had just seen an angel—a whole host of angels. He had just heard the announcement that God had indeed remembered his promise, made so long ago, and that Messiah Himself, the Savior, was there, in Bethlehem, not a mile away, sleeping in a manger—which meant, a stable. Could it be? Could it really, truly be?

The silence was broken as Alphaeus lifted his palms towards heaven, his eyes still fixed on the spot where they had seen the angel, and said aloud, “Praise be to God, who has visited his people from on high and revealed this glorious news to men of no significance.” Then, on impulse, he stood up and said in a voice almost jolly, “Jonas! Judah! Did you realize? Messiah is come! Come with me; let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us!” And he began to almost run in the direction of the sleeping town.

“But stay!” Jonas grabbed his elbow. “Are you sure? I mean—what if this is all a dream?”

Alphaeus shook off the hand and replied with conviction, “I cannot think it was a dream—we all saw it, and it was too real to be a dream. Here we all are—I can feel the roughness of my cloak on my back sure as day, and I do not remember waking up either.” At that, he turned and headed towards the village.

“But father,” Judah called after him, “what about the sheep?”

“Leave them, leave them, my son!” Alphaeus called over his shoulder. “The Messiah is born!”

If one had been looking in the direction of the hill that night, they would have seen a running procession as the three shepherds, each becoming more and more convinced and excited, sped down the hill towards the sleeping city of David.

(to be continued)

Letters from a Lover

Ann turned on the lamp on her nightstand and turned off the overhead light so that she could enjoy the soft light of the lamp. She drew her covers over her knees and looked at her journal, which lay near the edge of the nightstand. She picked it up and flipped open to some blank pages in the back. From in between the two pages she pulled a folded sheet of paper. It was a wrinkled paper, blotted in a couple places from water drops, and obviously handled frequently. With a smile, she opened it and read it... for at least the hundredth time.



It was a letter from her "dearie", with a poem of his own writing at the end. It was months old now, but oh! the delight in reading it again and again. Just to read his words, and know he meant them. Just to see the spirit of Christ radiating off that page and through that bit of rhyme at the end. Ann was certain of his love for her, and though there was nothing knew in the letter since last time she read it (just last night), it was just a delight to read it again and be reminded of the loving, steadfast character of the man she had come to love. She knew it would be a while before he could afford to marry her, but this letter was almost like a guarantee until that time came. She knew she could trust her whole heart to him.

~*~*~*~*~

I turned on the lamp on my nightstand and turned off the overhead light so that I could enjoy the soft light of the lamp. I drew the covers over my knees and looked at the red-bound book laying on the edge of my nightstand. I picked it up and flipped to a page over half-way through. Small letters, some in red ink, some in black, filled two columns. With a smile, I read it for at least the hundredth time.

It was a letter from my lover. I had read it so many times, but oh! the delight of just reading it again and again. Just to read His words and know that He meant them. Just to read of His professions of His love for me, to see beautiful manifestations of His beautiful character, to be reminded of all the wonderful things He had done for me. I was certain of His love for me, and though there was nothing new in the letter than had been there last time I read it (last month), it was just a delight to read it again and be reminded of the loving, steadfast character I had come to love. I knew that it was not yet the time for Him to come and take me home with Him, but that letter was a guarantee until that time came. I knew I could trust my whole heart to Him.

Here are some bits and pieces from that letter:

"Dear Melanie,

"Before Abraham was, I am."

"I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Believeth thou this?"

"In the world you shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world."

"Let not your heart be troubled: you believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there you may be also."

"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."

I sighed happily and put the book back on the nightstand. I had sweet thoughts to fall asleep on that night, as well as the anticipation of reading it again the next morning.

The Map

Once there was a young man who set out on a journey. He knew he wanted to go to the Land of Goodness but how to get there he knew not. As he began to set out on his journey, a man called Inspiration gave the young man a scroll called Scripture. "This," said Inspiration, "is the map to the land to which you are going. Read it, study it, refer to it often, and you will find clear direction to get where you desire to go-- the Land of Goodness, the Country of the King."

The young man thanked him for his kindness and set off-- but the scroll remained in a pack on his back. Right off, he encountered a fork in the road. He hesitated. The left road was slanted, and the middle road was narrow, but the road on the right was wide and comfortable-looking. "I suppose," thought he, "that the road to the right should do. I think the country is in that direction; we shall see." So down that path he went. As he went, however, he began to sense the road to be not quite so good as he thought. It was full of potholes, and there was no place by the way where he could stay the night. So he made a little fire to ward off wolves, slept, and in the morning rose and went on his way.

As he went down this path, he rarely-- nearly never-- took time to look at the map. He was too busy travelling, he thought. And as he went, he encountered more problems. He met with wild animals and was severely maimed. He suffered from sickness from exposure to the elements. Eventually, he entered a dark, thick wood and wandered about unable to find the road. He was never heard from again.

Another young man set out on a journey. Inspiration, too, gave him a map just like he did the other young man. This young man thanked Inspiration and as soon as he was left alone, he sat down on a rock by the wayside and opened the scroll. He studied it carefully, looked at the direction of the sun, and got his bearings. Then he got up and went on his way.

Soon he came to the fork in the road. He promptly pulled out the map. Next to the fork in the road, in small writing, were the words, "Let thine eyes look right on, and let thine eyelids look straight before thee. Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established. Turn not to the right hand nor to the left: remove thy foot from evil." With that, the young man looked before him and kept down the middle path.

As he went he came to a dark, narrow valley. It was so dark that he could hardly see where he was stepping. At first he was a little frightened, and wondered if he had indeed taken the right path. But then he remembered his map. He pulled it out and looked at the mysteriously illumined page. Indeed, he was on the right path, and next to it were the words, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for God is with me." Encouraged, he kept on.

The journey was long, but he referred daily to the map, and every time he encountered a problem or a question, he wasted no time in pulling out the scroll and seeing what to do next. He studied the map frequently-- so frequently that he had much of it memorized. Finally he reached a beautiful land, where all was perfect. The way was smooth, the grass was green, the flowers bloomed, and not a rain cloud decked the sky. Here he was met by a kind and gentle Shepherd who greeted him and introduced himself as Jesus. "I have led you throughout your journey, even when you did not realize it. I drew the map you carried with you, and shed light on it over your shoulder when it would be otherwise to dark to read. Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."

And so he did, proclaiming with joy, "Thy Word was a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path. The words of the Lord are pure words: as silver tried in a furnace of earth, purified seven times. Thou shalt keep them, O Lord, thou shalt preserve them from this generation for ever."

~*~*~*~*~

As we press towards Christlikeness, we cannot do it our own way or in our own flesh. We need God's presence, His will, His way in our lives. He reveals Himself to us through His Holy Word, the Bible. This is why we must diligently read it, meditate on it, memorize it, and engrain in into our hearts and lives. When the path is rough, we will have the assurance of His love and goodness promised in His Word, and we will know what He would have us to do. Isn't it a wonderful thing that He has given us such a gift, and not hidden the way from us? How then can we ignore it and go on down the path of life blindly?

"The law of the LORD is perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of the LORD is sure, making wise the simple. The statutes of the LORD are right, rejoicing the heart: the commandment of the LORD is pure, enlightening the eyes. The fear of the LORD is clean, enduring for ever: the judgments of the LORD are true and righteous altogether. More to be desired are they than gold, yea, than much fine gold: sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb. Moreover by them is thy servant warned: and in keeping of them there is great reward."

(Psalm 19:7-11)