Why was I listening to a Christmas carol this morning? It’s Good Friday. Nonetheless, there it was, a Christmas carol…on Good Friday.
Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin, mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace…O’ sleep in heavenly peace
…Shepherds quake at the sight
Glory stream from heaven afar,
Heavenly hosts sing, “Hallelujah!”
Christ the Savior is born.
…Son of God, Love’s pure light
Radiant beams from thy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace
Jesus, Lord at thy birth
The glory of that night did herald great hope. “All is calm, all is bright.” Literally, glory streamed from heaven, as angels proclaimed His coming to a handful of lowly shepherds. For that night “redeeming grace” was released into the earth as God the Son, Christ the Savior, took on the frame of fallen man and made His way, just like us, into our existence. And Love, true Love, like the springs of the deep, broke forth and flowed into our world.
Fast forward 33 years.
It is once again…night. But this night is anything but calm. Heavenly peace has been scattered. There is no light. A foreboding darkness has descended upon the land, and men’s hearts. The old man Simeon saw it as he blessed the Child and gave glory to God in the temple. The sword he spoke of was about to pierce Mary’s soul, even as she would watch another pierce her Son.
Once again, in the night, there is silence. But it is not the stilled calm of heavenly peace. It is the silence of heaven, as the doors of glory shut tight. For now, God the Father is about to take all His wrath, all His fury, bound up to punish the sins of mankind, and pour it out on His own sinless Son, Jesus. It is not fair. How could You do that? Still, in the darkness love is not dead. It is doing its greatest work.
I long to see You Jesus…face-to-face. This morning my heart yearns for Your return. I long, with weeping, for the solace of Your touch, Your redemptive power to still the storms that blow across the ocean of my heart.
The signs of foreboding darkness abound in this very hour upon the earth. The tentacles of the world system reach ever deeper into our lives. The day is not far off when a leader will rise up in cunning and deceit. He will make a few decrees that chain us to his way. The cost of separation will be very great, especially for those who have not begun to prepare. In fact, it will be too great. To their eternal peril most will turn their backs on the God of the cross, because in their thinking, there are many paths that lead to heaven, or more practically, they have no other choice. “Besides, God loves me. He understands my child needs health care. And we have to have food. Thank you God, for this man.” My heart mourns for this very great eternal loss of men’s souls.
Still, God has a glorious remnant. He always has a glorious remnant. And those who yield their all will rise up and do great exploits in the midst of this very great darkness. This will be the finest hour for fiery faith, unquenchable hope, and conquering love to be displayed.
And so, this morning I come, deeply aware of my frailty, and the limp with which I walk, mourning for Your return, seeing more about this hour on the earth than I sometimes want to, unearthing fear, yet finding courage too, and reaching for the conquest found only in the power of Your love.
This morning, Jesus, I bring it all to the only place where it can make sense, the only place where it can all be properly dealt with.
I bring it to Your Cross.
Thank you, Jesus.
