CHRISTMAS REFLECTION

As I listened to the pastor’s message yesterday in the morning service, I was reminded by a question I used to struggle with.
As a child, I used to wonder and remain puzzled about one particular thing that the Bible told.
Why did they kill Jesus?
(Yes, of course apart from what I had known that Jesus came to die, and it was his purpose of condescending to this lowly earth, so he might die in our place)—but still, how come they killed him?
It was just too much for my child mind to comprehend, how come people who had seen him doing good for so many people; healing them, blessing them, feeding them, teaching them, liberating them, loving them, had a heart to flog, ridicule, and eventually put him to death in a shameful way—hanging on the tree?
Didn’t they see what I see in his cross? I don’t see the shame in it, I only see love, great love that made him stay there willingly, nailed and bled, while he could have come down if he’d wanted to.
Why did they hate Jesus, so much to want to do away with him?
The pastor phrased the reason in one sentence: Jesus did not fit in their religious system. It didn’t matter that he fulfilled all the prophecies in the Scriptures, they rejected him because he did not appear the way they wanted him to.
I too, in my life, have often acted the same way as they did, to some extent. Judging the books by their covers, judging people by outward appearance only, while what matters most lies inside us. When my sight is blurred by worldly things, I miss out the most important ones.
So, while it’s Christmas, I want to ask the Lord to once again cleanse my eyes so I’ll be able to see with a childlike manner, with a childlike faith. So as I see the helpless Babe in the manger, I would not mind the manure, would not mind the dirty stall full of animals. Instead, I would be amazed to see how low God was willing to stoop for me and you. And since I don’t have gold, incense, or myrrh, all I can do is to bow down all of me in front of him, and give him all I have: my welcoming heart, warmer than the heap of hay in his manger.
HAVE A BLESSED CHRISTMAS, MY FRIENDS!