CHRISTMAS DEVOTIONALS

CHRISTMAS PAST: Gabriel's World Tour, 6 B.C.
Part 1: Zechariah - "Yes, but..."

What would happen if one morning, during the middle of your daily routine, an angel appeared and told you that God had a plan that would completely change your life? How would you respond?

Luke's account of the Christmas story includes two such incidents, and there are important truths and lessons to be found in these events.

In the first instance, the angel Gabriel appears to the priest Zechariah in the temple as he conducts his duties. Zechariah "was startled and gripped with fear." Well, I suppose you and I would be, too.

"Do not be afraid, Zechariah," Gabriel tells him. "Your prayer has been heard. Your wife, Elizabeth, will bear you a son, and you are to give him the name John ... he will be great in the sight of the Lord. Many of the people of Israel will he bring back to the Lord their God. And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous - to make ready a people prepared for the Lord." (See Luke 1)

Zechariah has been confronted with the heavenly glory of God's messenger, a clearly supernatural interruption of his day. Yet his response to the angel's astounding news is to try and fit it into his existing assumptions about his life and his future.

"How can I be sure of this?" responds Zechariah. "I am an old man and my wife is well along in years." Zechariah can't believe that he and Elizabeth could have a child, much less grasp the magnitude of John The Baptist's mission.

Gabriel, who was pretty sure he was being clear, is unamused. "I stand in the presence of God," he says. "You will be silent and not able to speak until the day this happens, because you did not believe my words, which will come true at their proper time."

When God communicates with us or takes action in our lives, it is rarely with the impact of the angel's appearance. But I think our reaction is often much like Zechariah's. We question whether it is real. "Was that God speaking to me, or a hallucination? Was that a miracle, or just a coincidence? And if that really WAS God, can that really be what He meant?"

While we may relate to Zechariah's confusion and skepticism, we must be aware that it has its cost. It's not so much that we might be struck dumb if we doubt God's authority or interest in us, but that we might miss the blessings and peace God desires to share with us.

Whether they come to us through a heavenly messenger or a passage of Scripture, God's promises are trustworthy, and our ability to accept them and live them is limited primarily by our ability to believe them. As Zechariah's story demonstrates, God is never predictable, but is always faithful.

REMinistries, the Internet outreach of Rich Miller of Lawrenceville, New Jersey
[email protected]

CHRISTMAS PAST: Gabriel's World Tour, 6 B.C.

Part 2: Mary - The Bible talked about the Messiah, but not about being the Messiah's Mom.

After Gabriel appears to Zechariah, Luke presents the account of his appearance to Mary. And if the angel's news for Zechariah seemed astounding, it was but a trifle compared to the bombshell Gabriel drops on Mary.

"You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end." (See Luke 1)

Whatever upheaval Zechariah had to grapple with was minor league compared to Mary's dilemma. Let's consider her situation when confronted with the news that she would bear God's Son through the virgin birth. What might this mean to her?

Mary was probably about 16, perhaps even younger. She becomes pregnant. Given the societal mores of the time, she could have fully expected that she would be disgraced, that her fiancee Joseph (who knew he wasn't the father) would abandon her, and that she would probably never marry. It's also important to understand that Jewish society in the first century took a real hard line on "blasphemy," as later accounts of Jesus' ministry and death make clear. A young, single woman claiming that God had made her pregnant would have encountered trouble.

We can try to imagine ourselves in Mary's shoes, but I don't expect we can ever really grasp the enormity of her situation. Mary must have known there could be problems. But rather than focusing on the size of her problems, she chose to trust in the size of her God.

"I am the Lord's servant," she replies. "May it be to me as you have said."

Through the history of Christianity, Jesus' mother has been the subject of a great deal of religious thought, some of it unusual and venturing outside the sparse Biblical accounts of her life. Theologies of Mary have long been one of the criterias Christians have used to differentiate themselves from one another. For Protestants, devotion to Mary is often characterized as a "Catholic thing."

Yet in Luke, Mary offers one of the most powerful examples of a person submitting to God's will, surrendering self and setting aside fears about the future. It is a response that ultimately has little to do with Mary's age, gender or marital status. Mary's example of a life yielded to God's purpose speaks powerfully to us today, its simplicity transcending 2,000 years of complex theology.

God touches our lives often, in ways we almost never expect. We can relate to Zechariah's confusion, but we must aspire to Mary's faith. We need to try, as best we can, to be the Lord's servants, entrusting ourselves to His care as we walk through each new day in His world.

REMinistries, the Internet outreach of Rich Miller of Lawrenceville, New Jersey
[email protected]

Encouraging Word Of The Week
by Steve Kelly

"It sure doesn't feel like it should be time for Thanksgiving." " I don't know what it is, but it just doesn't feel like Christmas to me."

These two statements will either enter your ears or come out of your mouth during the span of time between Thanksgiving Day and Christmas Day.

It seems like every year, for as long as I can remember, I have heard this or at least thought this. Why?

I believe the key word here is "feel". The calendar doesn't lie. All the signs are that it is time for Christmas. Then, why is it for a lot of people their feelings don't match their calendar?

I can't speak for everyone who isn't in the "Christmas spirit", but I believe this lack of feeling goes back to Christmas not really being a seasonal celebration. It is a daily celebration. To contrast this with something we can all relate to, is Christianity a Sunday-only experience or is it a 24 hours a day, 7 days a week commitment?

Whenever I segment my Christian life into pockets, periods, categories, or any other subdivisions, I am opening myself up to disappointment. God did not save me to have on and off buttons in my faith such that I decide when I want certain parts of me to be operational. Frankly, we are either completely ON or OFF. Some parts may work better than others, but they are completely interdependent.

As for this "Christmas Spirit" thing, I believe it is more man-made than God-inspired. Generally, it refers to a secular view of the season, rather than a biblical understanding of what happened in Bethlehem. It focuses upon earthly things, not heavenly things. The fact that "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us" isn't central to the "Christmas Spirit" that our world shares. How do I know this? Such a "Christmas Spirit" ends sometime between the 25th and the 1st.

My purpose this week is to remind you not to depend on feelings that are unreliable. There have been previous years where the Christmas season hit and I wasn't up to the challenge. Personally, I wasn't excited and I just wanted it over. In the process, I felt guilty because as a Christian I thought I should feel more during Christmas. Right?

Yes, Christmas should be a high time of the year for us who call the name of Jesus, but we must remember not to impose the world's standards for Christmas upon our own.

Gifts, gatherings, meals and the like are wonderful, but they have one thing in common; they all come to an end. If we are going to call it "The Spirit of Christmas" then it must be viewed in such a way. It is something in me, not something from the outside. Therefore, like everything else in my Christian life, I must view the Christmas season by faith.

For the next three and a half weeks, let me encourage you not to focus upon shopping lists, grocery lists, or any other lists you are working on to produce a joyous celebration. Instead, just think about Jesus. Read the Christmas story out of Matthew 1-2 and Luke 1-2 throughout the month of December. Allow your focus to be upon the heart of the celebration. If you will seek to do this, then you will have the right feelings and experience the true "Spirit of Christmas".

This is why Paul could say these words from II Timothy 1:12 (NIV) -- "...I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day."

This year, don't worry about feeling, but concentrate on knowing. In the process, you will find that Christmas will last well past December 25th.

Celebrating Jesus,
Bro. Steve

CHRISTMAS PRESENT: Finding the Manger Amidst the Madness of the Mall

Part 1: Christmas Cheer: Encountering God in the check-out aisle.

Every year around this time, I have a familiar experience. I'm out shopping, and I'll go through the checkout line, and pay for my stuff. When the cashier hands me back the change, they'll say "Happy holidays," or perhaps even "Merry Christmas."

I realize that this comment is not always motivated by the cashier's genuine interest in whether or not I enjoy my holiday. I'm aware that they may be saying this because they've been told to. I can envision the memo from K mart corporate headquarters directing cashiers when to switch from "Have a nice day" to "Happy Holidays," on the assumption that this will somehow help cement a lasting bond between the store and the customer that won't evaporate when a Wal-Mart opens across the street.

I'm aware of all that, and suspicious of the whole business. But at least once every year, I have a cashier who looks me in the eye and says "Merry Christmas," and really means it. And it changes my whole day.

There really is something genuine to this whole idea of Christmas cheer. As Dec. 25th draws near, people warm up just a bit. If you're out and around on Christmas Eve, you'll notice that people are friendlier than on any other day of the year.

Folks warm up when they are mindful of the Christ child's birth, and make an extra effort to practice the virtues the angels sing of - "peace on earth, goodwill towards men."

But consider this - why do we notice this at Christmas? Why does this surge in warmheartedness stand out? I think it's because, despite our best intentions, good will towards men can easily become a seasonal event rather than a standing policy.

When Christ entered our world, he didn't come to brighten our Decembers, but to transform our lives. It can be hard work to practice good will towards one another. But John the Baptist's message was that as we prepare for Christ to come into our lives, we can change our ways.

The Gospel accounts of Jesus' ministry provide the blueprint for loving our neighbor in a busy and complicated neighborhood. Christ made a point of seeking out the broken and disenfranchised people of his day - the lepers, prostitutes and tax collectors - and he saw the value in each one of them. And in so doing, He helped them recognize the value in themselves.

This Christmas season, let us recognize that just as faith is a decision, good will towards people is a series of decisions that work themselves out not in temporary holiday cheer, but in the details of everyday life.

From REMinistries, the Internet outreach of Rich Miller of Lawrenceville, New Jersey
[email protected]

CHRISTMAS PRESENT: Finding the Manger Amidst the Madness of the Mall

Part 2: Switch Seats: Feeling run down? Try a new power source.

There's a company that makes T-shirts with spiritual themes. One of them shows an airplane being flown by a frantic pilot. The shirt says "If God is your co-pilot, switch seats."

That's a statement that's simple, but sort of sums up our struggle. We often talk about how faith is hard. But I believe a certain amount of faith is really not difficult at all. The Gallup Organization of Princeton conduct surveys that consistently report that about 94 percent of Americans believe in God. It's not hard to acknowledge God. And I don't think it's hard for me to make God my co-pilot.

It's easy. Like this:

"God, you keep an eye on the horizon and the dials and gauges while I fly the plane. But you be ready in case a storm comes up or we lose an engine or the wing falls off, because then I'm gonna need you to save the day. Of course, when we have blue skies, I'll just take over again." That's not hard. What's hard is to relinquish the wheel. At the Annunciation, Mary gives us the blueprint for a different kind of faith - the hard kind.

I'm sure Mary may have had many ideas and expectations about what her life would be like. We all do. We knew she was expecting to marry Joseph. And then this angel shows up with a message from God that lays out a whole different plan for her future.

To say that this was going to complicate her life is putting it lightly. While Scripture talked a lot about the coming of the Messiah, it didn't include instructions for being the Messiah's mom.

Mary is the ultimate example of a life yielded to God's purpose. Mary puts God in the driver's seat. But it's one thing to see that kind of faith in a Biblical figure who lived 2,000 years ago. It's another thing to live out that faith today, and walk in submission to God.

How do we do it? The answer begins in Mary's story, which begins an act of grace that has the power to transform our lives. We need to remember that Jesus didn't come just to accept the shepherds' worship or the wise men's gifts. We need to see the cross as well as the manger.

In John 11, Christ sums up the issue as he speaks to Martha and asks her a question :

"I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies, and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?" We all want to surrender our lives, to let go and let God, to turn over the wheel. It is in answering Christ's question that we find the confidence to do this. Some folks resist this question. There are any number of reasons why. But no one yet has made an effective argument that eternal life is a bad idea ("I'd much prefer death and decay!") I've talked with people about this, and some say "you know, with you Christian folks, it's always this focus on salvation. Can't I just be spiritual?"

All I know is that for a while, I tried "just being spiritual." And what I was really doing was trying to hold onto the wheel. To really let go of something, you need to grab hold of something else. And to help us let go of the worries of our world, God has given us the ultimate something else.

There are times when we wonder whether we matter to God, whether he really knows who we are, or cares. God responds to our doubt and our feelings of inadequacy by saying this: "Come live with me at my house. I have prepared a place for you! It's a great house, too. And I'm not talking about a two-week lease - it's forever! And, not only that, you can invite all your friends, too!"

"I am the resurrection and the life. Do you believe this?"

Believe it. Switch seats. Follow Mary's example, and make God the pilot of your life. Let go of the wheel, and grab hold of Christmas with all your strength.

From REMinistries, the Internet outreach of Rich Miller of Lawrenceville, New Jersey
[email protected]

CHRISTMAS FUTURE: Living In Hope

Part 1: The Second Advent - We're waiting for more than Dec. 25

"And then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in Heaven, and the nations of the earth will mourn. They will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of the sky with power and great glory." MATTHEW 24:30-31

Advent is a season with a two-fold focus. It is a time in which Christians recall and celebrate Jesus Christ's entrance into our world to redeem mankind and triumph over death. It is also a period in which believers look forward to the "Second Advent" - the day when He will come back.

For nearly 2,000 years, Christians have lived in the hope of Our Lord's imminent return. Jesus' description of the event spans two chapters in the Gospel of Matthew (24-25) and is usually read as part of the lectionary as Christmas nears. The Second Coming was also an emphasis in the epistles of Paul, Peter and John. Bible scholars cite more than 300 references to it in the New Testament. In his teachings about the Second Coming, it's important to understand that Jesus emphasized spiritual preparation rather than irresponsible speculation.

A philosopher once observed that people on their deathbed rarely conclude that they wish they'd spent more time at work. They become focused on faith, family, how they'll be remembered and what happens when they die. Priorities that elude us in the course of our busy daily routine become crystal-clear if our hours appear numbered.

In the same way, the possibility that Jesus may show up at any moment forces Christians to maintain an attitude of vigilance and preparedness. The prospect of meeting God face-to- face helps sort our priorities, and our relationship with the Lord goes right to the top of the list. Which, as Christ taught us, is as it should be ("love the Lord with all your heart and all your mind and all your soul.") It reminds us that it matters whether we greet the Lord as an old friend or as a stranger.

Christianity is a faith that takes the long view of world events. It believes that understanding the beginning and end of time provides us with perspective on everything in between, and reminds us that God is in charge throughout.

Christ always made a distinction between the temporary nature of our worldly existence and the permanence of the Kingdom of Heaven. It's hard for us to let go of our attachments to this life. The "end of the world" is frightening to us because we instinctively fear change and cling to what we know, even when we are promised something far better.

At Christmas, we celebrate the beginning of the mission Christ will complete at the Second Coming - to free us from our dependence upon this world; to secure eternal life for each and every believer through his work on our behalf. "In this world you will have tribulation,'' Jesus said. " But take heart - I have overcome the world!"

By REMinistries, the Internet outreach of Rich Miller of Lawrenceville, New Jersey.
[email protected]

CHRISTMAS FUTURE: Living In Hope

Part 2: A Thousand Years Are Like A Day - We don't know what the future holds, but we know Who holds the future.

"You must understand that in the last days scoffers will come, scoffing and following their own evil desires. They will say 'Where is this coming he promised? Ever since our fathers died, everything goes on as it has since the beginning of creation' ... But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: with the Lord, a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years are like a day. The Lord is not slow keeping His promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance." 2 Peter 3: 3-4, 8-9

We live in astounding times. Think of the events of recent years: Rabin and Arafat shaking hands on the White House lawn; Red Army tanks shelling the Moscow Parliament because the Communists won't come out; floods covering much of the Midwest with water for weeks; a false Christ being featured on the covers of all the major newsmagazines and in a TV movie.

The combination of momentous political change and unusual natural phenomena in recent years has many folks wondering just what the heck is going on. The evangelist Billy Graham recently wrote that he has never in 50 years of ministry had so many people ask him if the end of the world is at hand.

The timing of the Second Coming has always titillated us, perhaps because it is concealed from us. For as Jesus said, "No one knows that day or hour, not even the angels in Heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father." That instruction often gets forgotten when believers see events that correspond with the signs Christ said would foreshadow His return. There is growing speculation that the Second Coming is imminent, a trend that will only intensify as the turn of the millenium approaches.

Christians must take care to not be deceived - either by those who insist He's coming tomorrow, or those who claim He won't return in our lifetime.

For the "scoffers" are also many, and are on thin ice as well. For decades, progressive thinkers ridiculed "Bible believing" scholars who insisted that Christ's return would be immediately preceded by such unlikely events as European political union, a cashless society and a Middle East peace treaty. No one's laughing today.

But as Peter understood, a comma on a page in the Bible could be 50 or 100 years for us. God defines "soon" much differently than we do. God's desire is for "everyone to come to repentance" -- for us to invite Christ into our hearts and our lives. On a Bethlehem night 2,000 years ago, He came as a babe. One day, He will come in glory. In our world, He comes to us through the love and caring of forgiven people living changed lives.

Christ means for us to join him in eternal life. For now, His will is for us to be here, loving our neighbor until they ask us why, and then pointing them toward the Cross.

By REMinistries, the Internet outreach of Rich Miller of Lawrenceville, New Jersey.
[email protected]

Courage

It was a few weeks before Christmas, 1917. The beautiful snowy landscapes of Europe were blackened by war. The trenches on one side held the Germans, and on the other side, the trenches were filled with Americans. It was World War 1. The exchange of gunshots was intense. Separating them was a very narrow strip of no-man's-land. A young German soldier, attempting to cross that no-man's-land, had been shot and had become entangled in the barbed wire. He cried out in anguish, and in pain, he continued to whimper.

Between the shells, all the Americans in that sector could hear him scream. When one American soldier could stand it no longer, he crawled out of the American trenches, and on his stomach, crawled to that German soldier. When the Americans realized what he was doing, they stopped firing, but the Germans continued. Then a German officer realized what the young American was doing, and he ordered his men to cease firing. Now there was a weird silence across the no-man's-land. On his stomach, the American made his way to that German soldier and disentangled him. He stood up with the German in his arms, walked straight to the German trenches and placed him in the waiting arms of his comrades. Having done so, he turned and started back to the American trenches.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder that spun him around. There stood a German officer who had won the Iron Cross, the highest German honor for bravery. He jerked it from his own uniform and placed it on the American who walked back to the American trenches. When he was safely in the trenches, they resumed the insanity of war!*

We, who know the real meaning of Christmas, must hear the cry of those without Jesus Christ, without hope, and without peace, caught in no-man's-land between the enemy, Satan, and the Savior, Jesus Christ. This is the season we can show acts of love to demonstrate what has happened in our lives, because He came to redeem us, and will do the same for all who will call upon Him.

The most precious gift we can give this Christmas is not material things, but a message; one that can bring true peace and hope to hurting people. We may have to venture into some dangerous territory, even at the risk of our ego, our embarrassment, and our comfort zones. While the enemy fires bullets of doubt, temptation, and discouragement at us, we must share this gift, this message of the Savior, Who was born. We are promised that the enemy cannot overcome us in battle. "Greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world" (1 John 4:4).

*Taken from "Stories For The Heart" - Author unknown

Lowell Davey
President, Bible Broadcasting Network
www.bbnradio.org
Copyright 2000,BBN

"The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
Gabriel - The Voice Of Disclosure
by Woodrow Kroll

Luke 1:11-22, 26-28 & Matthew 1:20-25

"Don't be afraid." That's how I usually start my conversations with humans. "Are you all right?" For some reason, whenever I make an appearance, people seem to fall down. They can't talk. They become terrified. We are trained to respond to that kind of reaction and reassure our human clients as the first item of business, "Don't be afraid." Really.

I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God. Yes, near the center of the consuming fire. The overpowering glory of His presence would burn the best among you to a crisp in an instant, unless you were especially prepared to bear it. And the faintest trailing wisps of His glory that cling to my garments have made the most powerful soldiers melt with terror on some of my visits to earth.

I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God. And from time to time, I stand in the presence of humans. I bring messages. That's what the word "angel" means--messenger. For instance, I was the one who told Daniel the meaning of King Belshazzar's vision of the ram and the male goat. Daniel fell on his face when he saw me. Out cold. On another occasion, I explained to Daniel how to interpret the vision of the 70 weeks. I have been called upon to deliver many momentous messages, but none can compare with those I'll tell you about now.

I traveled to earth three different times in connection with the events leading up to that first Christmas. I am the voice of disclosure. I was the one who disclosed the good news to Mary and to Joseph. And before that, I disclosed to old Zacharias the priest what part he and Elisabeth would play. All three missions came within months of each other.

I was sent to Zacharias not quite a year before that first Christmas. He was a very godly man, an aging priest who served my Master with distinction. His wife Elisabeth was also very godly. Both of them were getting up in years. They had no children and that was a heavy sorrow for them. But my message would change all that. I am the voice of disclosure, and what I had to disclose to this dear old couple would change their lives forever.

Jehovah sent me to tell Zacharias that soon he and Elisabeth would have a son. Not just any son--their son would be filled with the Holy Spirit from Elisabeth's womb. Their son was to be the promised forerunner of the Messiah. Their son would prepare Messiah's way in the spirit and power of Elijah.

I flew to Jerusalem. Zacharias was in the temple, all alone in the holy place, burning incense. A crowd of worshippers outside in the courtyard were at prayer. I went around behind the altar of incense, which stood before the veil that hung between the holy place and the holy of Holies. At the altar of incense, Zacharias was as close as anybody ever got to the mercy seat in the holy of Holies, except for the high priest himself, and he only on the Day of Atonement.

I stood just to the south of the altar and watched the old man. Zacharias was intent in his work. Finally, he looked my way and was startled. You should have seen the look on his face. No one is more startled to see someone else than the one who thinks he is all alone.

"Don't be afraid, Zacharias," I started the standard reassurance. "Jehovah has heard your prayers, and He is pleased to answer them. You will become a father. Your wife Elisabeth will bear a son, and together you will name him John." I never know what kind of response to expect. My disclosure should have been cause for celebration. The birth of the son would bring unbounded joy to many people. The son of Zacharias was destined to be great in Jehovah's sight. He would be a special child. A Nazirite from his mother's womb, John would turn many people back to God.

This was news of great hope, but the old priest didn't believe me. He said he and his wife were too old. "I am Gabriel," I said. "I stand in the presence of God." Surely this old priest, who knew how serious a thing it is to minister in an earthly temple, would understand that I must be speaking truth, for I stand in the heavenly temple. But Zacharias did not believe. How could this priest, who was entrusted to handle the mysteries of God, how could he not believe? Disbelief in a holy place. Disbelief at the altar of incense. Disbelief in the very dwelling of God among men. That is the worst kind of disbelief.

If he would not believe my good news, he must believe some bad news. I raised my voice again in disclosure. This time I told Zacharias that because he did not believe Jehovah, he would not be able to speak until the things I told him had all been accomplished. I left him. What a sad irony--that Zacharias the priest, who had received great good news, could not tell it to anyone because of his own doubt.

The first of my three missions was complete. Just six months later Jehovah sent me on my second mission as the voice of disclosure. This time my destination wasn't the capital city or the gleaming temple, but the village of Nazareth on the southern edge of Galilee. "Nazareth?" you ask. "That sleepy little village so far removed from the centers of government and religion? That backwater town? Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" I understand your surprise. But there was no mistake. My contact person was a young woman, a virgin named Mary.

I found her in her parents' home, one of the humble little dwellings of Nazareth. I said, "Be happy, Mary. You are one of the most blessed women on earth." Of course, Mary was startled and afraid, but not like Zacharias or even Daniel. Mary seemed less afraid of me than she was puzzled by my greeting. What did I mean that she was the most blessed woman on earth?

"Don't be afraid, Mary," I continued. "You have found favor with God." That seemed to calm her. I disclosed that she would conceive and bear a son, and that her son's name should be called Jesus. What could I tell her in a handful of words about the birth of God among men? I said that her baby would be great and be called the Son of the Highest. Jehovah would give her son the throne of His father David, and there would be no end to His reign. I stopped. She was quiet for a moment. Then she raised a modest question. She wondered how she could be pregnant, since she had never known a man. She was a virgin. How could this happen? Details, details. Here I was, announcing the great theological event in history, and she wanted to talk biology. But in another way, a very important question. This theological event would mean nothing if not tied to the blood and water, life and death issues, of physical human existence. How do you explain a miracle?

I did my best. I disclosed that the Holy Spirit would come over her in such a way that she would become pregnant. Therefore, the One born from her would be both God and man. I reminded her that her aged cousin Elisabeth was already in the sixth month of her pregnancy. Wasn't that a miracle, too? Nothing is impossible with God. Mary smiled a good smile. Maybe thinking of Elisabeth six months pregnant, and Mary believed God. "Behold, the handmaiden of the Lord." She calmly and graciously accepted the will of God for her.

My second mission accomplished, I had just one more disclosure to make. Some months passed. Mary had gone to visit Elisabeth in the hill country for a few months, and when she returned to Nazareth, it was obvious to all that she was pregnant. Small-town gossip soon filled Nazareth. Joseph was Mary's fianc�, and he was the subject of much unjust speculation. He had painful questions of his own. My mission was to let Joseph know that it was both legitimate and acceptable for him to proceed with his marriage plans. So once more, I raised my voice of disclosure. I appeared to Joseph in a dream.

I said, "Joseph, son of David, don't be afraid. Your beloved Mary is pregnant, but she has not been unfaithful to you. What has been conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit of God. She will bear a son. When He is born, you will take Him as your own son and give Him the name Jesus, because He will save His people from their sins." Joseph was to play a special part in a story that began centuries before. In Isaiah's day, the outcome of the story had been guaranteed with the words, "Behold, a virgin shall be with child and bear a son, and they shall call His name Immanuel." But Joseph, he would have to endure temporary local gossip in Nazareth. But that would never compare to the lasting joy of playing the role he was given in the salvation story of the world.

My third mission was complete. The twelve voices of Christmas. I was the first to speak. It was my voice that disclosed Christmas was coming. Three momentous messages from heaven. Not causes for fear, but reasons for hope. So prepare the way. A son is born to the throne of David, and He will save His people from their sins.

From "The Twelve Voices Of Christmas" by Woodrow Kroll
www.backtothebible.org
Copyright �1996-2000 The Good News Broadcasting Association, Inc.
All rights reserved.

"The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
Zacharias - The Voice Of Disbelief
by Woodrow Kroll

Luke 1:5-25, 57-80

Do I remember the twelve voices of Christmas? Yes, I do. I was one of them. I was the voice of disbelief.

I am called Zacharias. You may recognize my name, although you may be thinking of someone else. King Jehoshaphat's son, for example, killed by his brother Jehoram to prevent him from claiming the throne. And then there's our great prophet Zechariah. There must be at least 30 other men in our nation's history who had my name. It's a good name. It means "the Lord remembers." Across the long history of our people, God has never forgotten His promise.

I'm married to Elisabeth, and for many years we had no children. You can't imagine how sad that is, unless you share our belief that the blessing and power of God are made known through a man's children and his children's children. When you have no children, how can you testify to the faithfulness of God to all generations? What good would it be if God remembered all His promises, but there was no one from my family to see them come to pass? Why should God take the branch of our family and prune us from His vine, Israel? We have no child. Doesn't that mean anything to You?

Elisabeth and I were getting along in years. We had prayed for so long that God would provide a son for us. I began to believe that was impossible.

We were just too old.

In our temple service one shift of priests would live in Jerusalem for some time and perform the duties of the temple. Then after their time was up, they returned to their villages and the next shift took over. Within each shift, the daily duties of the priesthood were assigned to different families by lot.

One of these duties was burning incense. It meant standing in the Holy Place just before the veil of the Holy of Holies and burning incense to the Lord. The priest who was chosen would stand closer to the very mercy seat of God than anyone ever got to stand, except for the High Priest himself, and he only on the Day of Atonement.

One day the lot fell to me. The other worshippers waited outside, praying. I entered the sanctuary, the Holy Place. I placed the incense upon the coals of the altar and a fragrant cloud of smoke arose. I was just about to pronounce the benediction of Aaron, but something startled me. I wasn't alone. Someone was standing next to the altar of incense. I looked. It was an angel.

The angel tried to calm my fears. He assured me that our prayers over many years would now be answered. Elisabeth would become pregnant and we would have a son.

The angel told me even what to name our son. His name would be John, and he would be a Nazirite from his mother's womb. He would preach in the spirit and power of Elijah. Our son was appointed to prepare the hearts of the people for the Messiah. That meant the long-awaited Messiah must come soon.

I think I was a little dizzy. But no, there's no excuse for what I said. I spoke back to the angel. I raised my voice in disbelief. I said, "How will I know this is true? I'm an old man. My wife is an old woman. People as old as we are don't become parents."

I have some advice for you. If an angel ever visits, don't talk back to him. The angel told me his name. Gabriel--one of those angels who stood in the very presence of God. If I had to say something stupid to an angel, why couldn't it have been one of the lesser angels? But Gabriel. He told me that because I raised my voice in disbelief, Jehovah would take away my ability to speak until after all these things came to pass. Then he disappeared.

The crowd of worshippers were outside waiting for me. What would I do? How would I tell them? I couldn't speak a word. I left the sanctuary. I gestured and made signs. I tried to tell them what the problem was, but there was no way I could communicate with them. It was a great frustration. I couldn't tell my good news to a soul.

When I completed my duties at the temple, I returned home. Elisabeth was always eager to hear all the news from Jerusalem. What is worse than a man with good news who does not speak? I had much to say, but no ability to say it. After years of disappointment we would finally have a baby, but I couldn't tell her so.

Elisabeth conceived.

The neighbors were curious about my silence, and they wondered about Elisabeth, who kept herself out of the public eye. In the sixth month of Elisabeth's pregnancy, we received a visit from her young cousin, Mary from Nazareth. Mary herself was pregnant, too. That was news of shame and scandal. Mary, a young virgin, was engaged to a man named Joseph, but they were not married. She told us that the angel Gabriel had visited her and she told us about the miracle he announced. That Gabriel again! Elisabeth was not sure, but I quickly made it clear. You had better believe it.

How we enjoyed Mary's visit. She stayed with us until the time of John's birth. Elisabeth's time came. We had a beautiful, bouncing baby boy. The neighbors and relatives came from all over. Visitors filled our house with laughter and singing and praising the Lord.

And I? I sat quietly and watched. Eight days after our little boy was born, we took him to be circumcised. This would declare him to be a son of the covenant and heir to the promises of Israel. It was the day to name him. Of course everyone assumed we would name the baby Zacharias after me. But Elisabeth said, "We will call him John."

Our friends objected that we had no relatives by that name. They looked at me. "Zacharias, what's the matter with Elisabeth? Aren't you going to name your son after yourself?" But I took my tablet and wrote, "His name shall be John." Then suddenly while I was gesturing to explain to my friends why we had to name the boy John, I began to speak. It had been months and suddenly I spoke.

"John." I said, "His name is John. That's what we'll call him." I began to prophesy and sing praises to the Lord. "Blessed is the Lord God of Israel, for He has visited and redeemed His people and He has raised up a horn of salvation for us in the house of His servant David."

God was so kind to me. For the 12 voices of Christmas, only mine was raised in disbelief. But in the great love and mercy of God, He took my disbelief and changed it into praise.

Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for He has visited us and accomplished redemption for His people!

From "The Twelve Voices Of Christmas" by Woodrow Kroll
www.backtothebible.org
Copyright �1996-2000 The Good News Broadcasting Association, Inc.
All rights reserved.

"The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
Elizabeth - The Voice Of Blessing
by Woodrow Kroll

Luke 1:5-25, 57-80

Barren.

If there's one word a woman in Israel doesn't like to hear, that's it. Barren. Oh, you can't imagine how sad that is, unless you share a belief that the blessing and power of God are made known through a couple's children and their children's children.

It was especially hard on my husband, Zacharias. When a man in Israel has no children, how can he testify to the faithfulness of God to all generations? I knew he longed for a son to bring up in the ways of God. What a sorrow it would be to him if God took the branch of our family and pruned it from His vine, Israel. And I had been unable to give him a child.

It wasn't so bad when I was young and we were first married. There was plenty of time to bear a child. Even in my middle years, I kept hope that there was still an outside chance. But then one day, I was an old woman. If children are a blessing of God, then barrenness must be His curse. I bore that curse in the way everyone in our community treated us. I saw a kind of pity behind their eyes. I heard it between their words. It made my days bitter. I often thought of the story of Hannah. She was barren. She was shamed by her rival, Peninnah. That was me. I was just like Hannah. But God heard Hannah's prayer and gave her a son, so why had He not heard mine? It seemed as though God didn't care.

My husband, Zacharias, is a good man. He's a priest descended from the family of Abijah. My family also were priests from Aaron. Of course, the law does not require priests to marry within the priestly line, but it worked out that way for us. He takes his duties very seriously. In our house we have always been careful to do all that God's Word commands. And yet, I was barren. I used to lie awake at night in and imagine that I heard Rachel saying to Jacob, "Give me children, or else I die." And didn't the psalmist say Jehovah would grant the barren woman a home? I went over it again and again. Hadn't I lived blamelessly before the Lord? Hadn't I done all that He had asked of me? Yet I was barren. Fertility was one of the blessings of obedience to God. Didn't Jehovah promise our people that there would not be a male or female barren among us? What was wrong with me? The questions never went away.

I'm sorry. You'd think to hear me talk I was the voice of complaint. I'm not. I am the voice of blessing. One day during the service of Zacharias' division in Jerusalem, the lot fell to him to offer incense in the Holy Place. There the angel Gabriel appeared to him and told him that my barrenness would soon end. Zacharias and I would have a son named John. Our son would be special. I know, I know. Every mother says the same thing. But not every mother gets her news from Gabriel. He said our son was to be dedicated to God even from my womb. John would turn many of our people back to God. Our son would come in the spirit and power of Elijah, the great prophet. Such wondrous promises!

When Zacharias came home after completing his duties at the temple, he couldn't speak a word. He was so ashamed. He used a writing tablet and made me understand that he had raised his voice in disbelief at the angel's disclosure. And because of that, he was struck speechless. Gradually I understood. The marvel of this promise seemed almost beyond belief, but it was true.

I conceived a child with Zacharias in my old age. I understand why Sarah of old named her son Isaac, which means laughter. Sometimes in the evening after our meal, we just sat together and laughed. Doesn't the thought of a pregnant granny seem funny to you? For several months I remained in seclusion. My John was to be filled with the Spirit of God while yet in my womb, and so I devoted those long quiet days to God. I see some of the young wives so busy during the time they carry their children. I was thankful for the slow, thoughtful hours of an old woman's life.

In the sixth month of my pregnancy, my young relative Mary arrived from Nazareth. I always had a special feeling for Mary. But the news she brought! Mary's visit was something of a puzzle to us. We had word only days before that she was coming. Why this hurried visit? We were glad to welcome her, but you know how your imagination tries to answer questions when your mind doesn't have all the facts. I tried to keep from thinking that Mary might be in some kind of trouble. She was engaged to a nice young man from Nazareth, and the wedding day was not that far off. Why would she suddenly leave town? I hoped there were no problems.

Mary came to the door and I braced myself. I would know by the first look at her face. She came in. "Elisabeth?" she said. Her eyes told me she needed understanding, but she was not sure how we would receive her. That hurt. Why should she doubt us? She had been like a grandchild to us and had spent many happy days as a young girl visiting with us. She knew she could trust us. What could possibly have happened to her to make her doubt us? I knew! She was pregnant! For a half a moment, I imagined the worst. But then my John gave me such a kick it was as though he were reminding me, "Mother, what good is it for you to bear Messiah's forerunner unless someone else bears Messiah?" The realization broke on me in wave after wave of bright wonder. Mary's baby was the Messiah!

"Oh, Mary! I cried. "How blessed you are among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb!" Zacharias sat there the whole time grinning and nodding and clapping his hands. Mary already knew about our baby, but I told her everything again. And she told us of Gabriel's visit to her. I thought Zacharias would split. I think he wanted to compare notes.

In order to divert some of the town's curiosity away from Mary's unexpected visit, I began going about in public again. Oh, what a curiosity I was! Our friends laughed and teased. Zacharias, who had always enjoyed a reputation for his witty tongue, had to leave the last word to others. Whenever I made my way past the shop of Eli, who chants in the synagogue, he would laugh and sing. "Sing, O barren one! You who have borne no child. Breath forth into joyful shouting and cry aloud, you who have not travailed!"

Yes, I was one of the twelve voices of Christmas. Mine was the voice of blessing. Blessing because I was no longer barren. Blessing because in the midst of my joy, Mary arrived and added to it. Blessing because her baby would bring God's greatest blessing to the world. I was carrying the forerunner. And Mary was carrying the Savior! That is a cause for blessing.

From "The Twelve Voices Of Christmas" by Woodrow Kroll
Back To The Bible
Copyright �1996-2000 The Good News Broadcasting Association, Inc.
All rights reserved.

"The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
John The Baptist - The Voice Of Preparation
by Woodrow Kroll

Luke 1: 13-17

Are you ready?

Well, get ready. Prepare the way! The Lord's day is at hand. When He comes, He will thresh the wheat. He will separate the grain from the chaff. The grain He will gather to Himself, but the chaff will be burned with unquenchable fire.

What? What do you mean, negative preaching? I think that's very positive. Positively, prepare yourself. Positively, the Lord is coming. Positively, you'd better be ready. Positively, He will not abide iniquity. What's negative about that?

What? Not very Christmasy? I'm sorry. I don't even remember the first Christmas. I was only three months old at the time. My parents told me about it, though. In fact, my father was the first to have news of it. He was Zacharias, a priest in the division of Abijah. The angel Gabriel met him at the altar of incense in the temple and told him that I would be born as the Messiah's forerunner.

My father used to teach me from the Prophet Malachi. "Behold, I am going to send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and terrible day of the Lord, and he will restore the hearts of the fathers to their children and the hearts of the children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the land with a curse."

"That is you, John," he would say. "God has given you the ministry of Elijah to prepare the way of the Messiah." I think he hoped I would follow him in the priesthood. Ha! As if I could be a priest! Those compromised, corrupted nest of snakes! The ax is laid to the root, and every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire! They call themselves priests? Not my father, of course. He was a good man. And there were others like him. But the temple is no place for an Elijah.

Elijah had it right. Ahab, the king of Israel, heir to the promises of God, he erected altars to Baal, a temple to Baal, and he went up to worship. He put a nation to sleep, but Elijah woke them up. He stood against the king. "As the Lord the God of Israel lives, before whom I stand, surely there shall be neither dew nor rain these years, except by my word."

And he went to the wilderness beyond the Jordan and he ate whatever the ravens brought him. So I wear these rough clothes. I eat wilderness food. Those who wear silk and linen are found in the temple and in king's palaces, but when the wrong king is in the palace it is time to announce judgment and then head for the wilderness. That is Elijah's way. It is the Lord's day and judgment will begin with the household of God. So prepare the way of the Lord! Make straight in the desert a highway for our God, for He comes to judge the earth and with righteousness to judge the world and the peoples with His truth!

Jesus was a cousin. Before my parents died, they told me about Mary and Joseph and their son--her visit while my mother Elisabeth was still pregnant with me. I knew Jesus was God's Messiah. But we didn't meet. After my parents died, I was taken by a friend of my father, another priest. I stayed long enough to learn the scrolls, but I was not born to be a priest for the temple. I would find my own way.

I always wondered when it would happen--when Messiah would be revealed and bring forgiveness, establish righteousness. I waited. I was 20. Then 25. Then 30. When I couldn't wait any longer, I started preaching in the wilderness along the Jordan.

I became the Baptizer. I had seen people baptized before, up in the communes. Seeing that only made me think that here was a sign, not just for a few but for all the people. Not just for one class, some elite ceremonial rite, but for everyone who would turn from their sins and declare they were ready to receive the promised King of God. Here was a mark God would put on the people of His promise who would be His. I baptized because I didn't want to be some curiosity, a freak preacher that people could hear and then forget and not be different. Not agree with God and offer themselves to Him.

So I baptized with my preaching, that people would have to do something to take their stand, to show that they were committed. "Come, and get wet!"

They were ready to hear. Great crowds came. God was calling them out. Many men came to me and I taught them. I taught them to pray. I taught them to preach. I taught them to baptize.

Some of my disciples were from other countries, come to Jerusalem for just the season. When they went back they took the message with them. "Repent, for God's kingdom is very close! God's King will soon appear! You must be ready!"

All the time, I knew He would come. I watched the crowd. I expected Him. And He came. I baptized Him. I saw the sign of God's Spirit upon Him. Some of my disciples left me to follow Him. I knew the day had come at last. I grew bolder and more urgent in my preaching.

Herod arrested me for some of that urgent preaching. I sit in his prison. He thinks I'm funny. He has no idea what it's all about, but I amuse him. How is it on the outside? The kingdom has not come yet, has it? Was I wrong? Could I have been mistaken? Why is a man like Herod still on the throne? Why is the priesthood not cleansed? Why do people still live as if God were not the righteous Judge?

What am I saying? The King has come to His people. There still is time for men to seize the kingdom, to press their way in before the end. Now is the hour of salvation. Today if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts! Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.

I am the voice of preparation. Not for a baby on a quiet starry night. Christmas is too big for that. So get ready. Not for a cute little baby, but for a King coming to reclaim His kingdom who will wait no longer for the rebellious to turn back. The Lord's day is coming, a great and terrible and day, wonderful and marvelous. Prepare the way!

From "The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
by Woodrow Kroll
www.backtothebible.org
Copyright �1996-2000 The Good News Broadcasting Association, Inc.
All rights reserved.

"The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
Mary - The Voice Of Wonder
by Woodrow Kroll Luke 1:26-38

Of the twelve voices of Christmas, you will hear none more astonished than mine. What happened to others leading up to that first Christmas may have been miraculous, but what happened to me was completely unique.

I am Mary. It began with the wonder of the angel. My father was in the field and my mother had gone to market. I was mending clothes, and I admit, I was daydreaming about Joseph, the man I had been betrothed to marry. Suddenly I was startled. I looked to the doorway and there should a stranger. I thought he must be seeking my father. I would have told him to go, but he stepped through the door and spoke to me. "Hail, woman, richly blessed. The Lord is with you." Who was this? What did he want? He didn't seem dangerous in a threatening way, but neither did he seem altogether safe. He was quite different.

Then I realized this was an angel. But what did he mean by calling me a highly favored one? My family was not special. We were poor humble people. We lived in Nazareth, not Jerusalem. Everyone from Nazareth was considered to be, well, something of a hick. The angel didn't leave me time to think. He continued, "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name Him Jesus." The angel then foretold that this son would be the Son of the Most High, and that God would give Him the throne of King David and that He would be an eternal King, reigning forever.

Were all the old prophecies coming true at once? I had often heard the Scriptures read in the synagogue, and many times I had listened as my father talked with other men in the village about the coming Son of David. One time a traveling rabbi had taught in the synagogue all the promises of Messiah. Our family did trace its ancestry to David. Could I be living in the time when these things would come to pass? But how could any son of mine ever reign on the throne of David? The throne of David descended through the line of Solomon, while my family tree goes back to David through his son Nathan, who was never king of Israel. So if my son were to sit on David's throne, that right would legally have to come through another family.

Then I thought of Joseph, the man to whom I was to be married. He was a descendant to David through Solomon. Would he be the father? But what the angel said didn't make me think this baby was coming from Joseph. So I asked, "How can this be, since I am a virgin?" I think Gabriel almost smiled. I wondered about that later. I finally came to believe that he was amused that I would have a problem with such a small detail. You don't think this is funny? My father used to laugh at a story about the man who met God on the road from Jericho. God told him that He would give his horse wings to fly and turn all the flour in his cart to gold, but the man refused, saying, "My wife could never bake bread from gold."

Here I had been told that God was going to break into history and set up a King on the throne of David who would be His very Son and rule forever. Surely the greatest marvel of all time! All I could do is wonder how I could get pregnant. But even that detail was a wonder beyond understanding. The angel explained that the Holy Spirit would come over me in such a way that the power of God would encompass, embrace, enclose me, and in the shadow of His over-arching Shekinah glory, I would become pregnant. What a wonder!

Certainly the birth of Isaac to Abraham and Sarah in their old age had been miraculous, and the birth of John to Zacharias and my cousin Elisabeth was miraculous. But the birth of my baby was more than miraculous. It was also unique. He would be born in my virginity. He would be conceived without a human father. He would be human and divine. He would be the Son of God and the Son of a humble Nazarene girl. I told the angel, "Be it done to me according to your word."

You know the rest of my story. Everything Gabriel announced to me came true. I eventually did marry Joseph, but the marriage was not consummated until after Jesus was born. Even that first Christmas night while I was cuddling my newborn baby in my arms, I raised my voice in wonder. There in the stable we received a visit from some shepherds. They, too, had encountered an angel; in fact, a whole host of them. They were there to see my baby. When they left the stable, they were glorifying God and praising Him for all they had seen and heard. They couldn't keep quiet. They told everyone that the Son of God had come, that the Messiah had arrived, that there was a Savior.

I, on the other hand, was less demonstrative. Others were shouting and praising God for this Christmas night, but I kept all these things and pondered them in my heart and wondered.

Yes, I remember that first Christmas perhaps better than anyone. I was so young and filled with wonder beyond my depth. But with each passing year, the wonder deepened still more. My song shall always be, "My soul exalts the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior, for He has regarded the humble state of His handmaiden." What a wonder!

From "The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
by Woodrow Kroll
www.backtothebible.org
Copyright �1996-2000 The Good News Broadcasting Association, Inc.

All rights reserved.

"The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
Joseph - The Voice Of Reason
by Woodrow Kroll

Matthew 1:16-25

I'm just a simple craftsman. My hands tell you that I work with wood and tools. You can look at them and see a history of the work I've done. It seems there's always some kind of scar or cut. I can usually look at a man's hands and read his work. Fishermen have different hands than farmers.

I am a carpenter. It's honest, hard work. I come from the house and family of David, you know. My name, Joseph, comes from the patriarch doubly blessed, who guaranteed the success of God's work in his generation. As important as all that sounds, it's no good trying to maintain any pretense. Nazareth of Galilee, my hometown, is, well, you might say we are country people. In Jerusalem they have a great deal of fun with the accent of our speech. We're just simple folk, kind of removed from the big centers of power and importance. But that doesn't mean we can't live honest and honorable lives.

Honest and honorable--that's a lie. So where do I get off marrying a girl that was pregnant? Yes, she was pregnant before I married her. It was an arranged marriage by our families. It seems like I always knew from my youngest days that the first son of Jacob would marry the first daughter of Eli. But the way things happened, the first son of Jacob (that's me), I came along quite a few years before the first daughter of Eli did. I watched her grow up. My friends were all married and had children, while she was still just a little girl. She never did seem like much more than a girl to me. Oh, I took some teasing from my friends about getting gray hairs before getting a wife. I can take some kidding.

We were formally betrothed. The way we do things, the betrothal is a full legal ceremony. At the betrothal we are pledged to each other for life and we may be called husband and wife, although we remain apart until the actual wedding some time later. A betrothal is serious and binding and it cannot be broken without an official divorcement. Our people like it that way. It sure is different than the way they do things in the countries around us, where they do not know God. It seems they don't even take marriage to be serious and binding. But then after the betrothal, Mary went away for a few months before the marriage, a trip to her cousins in the hill country. I did look forward to seeing her again, but when she came back it was all too obvious she was pregnant. She was showing.

Honest and honorable. What do you do? That's not the kind of man I am! I couldn't believe it of Mary either, but there it was. I couldn't marry her. A fellow marries a pregnant girl? What do you think? I had two choices. I had the right to take her to court before the elders and prove that without my involvement she was found to be pregnant. A lawsuit like that would officially clear my name, but it certainly would be hard on Mary. She would be liable to the full punishment of the law, and Moses commanded that an unfaithful wife should be stoned. The rabbis had provided many exceptions and modifications to that command, so I knew Mary would probably not be stoned. But I didn't want to take her to court. So my other choice was to give her a simple bill of divorcement. I could do this privately without getting into all the legal affairs of court. It would not clear my own name officially, but practically it would have much the same effect. Everyone would know and it would be easier on Mary and her family. That was good. So it seemed like the more reasonable choice.

I am the voice of reason. I just about had my mind made up when I had a dream. I did. God's angel told me to marry her anyway. I mean, it's bad enough when the whole city is whispering about this pregnant girl, but then for me to accept the public conclusion about the father of the baby! It didn't make sense. But the angel called me "son of David." He told me not to be afraid to take Mary as my wife. He said that the baby growing inside Mary was from the Holy Spirit. He told me that we should name this son Jesus, which means "God saves," because He would save His people from their sins.

I guess you might say I had some new facts to consider. As the son of David in the legal line of his throne, whenever God might choose to renew it, I had a responsibility larger than my own personal concerns. If God by His Spirit had put this baby into Mary's womb, then I should agree if He wanted to appoint me to be Mary's husband and the man of that household.

How can you argue with the plan of God? You can cut a long piece of wood shorter, but you can't cut a short piece longer. It doesn't make sense. God had given me a new piece of wood. I had to change my thinking. I did not cancel the wedding. I let the villagers talk. One of the hardest things I ever did.

Well, then we went to Bethlehem for the Roman census. The son was born there. Shepherds came that night to see him. They said angels had visited them out in the field and sang praises to God for our son's birth. Imagine! The next week we took the boy into Jerusalem into the temple. Then it seemed like a good idea just to stay there in Bethlehem. Not so many whispering neighbors. A cousin got me work in the shop of a friend. We might just have stayed in Bethlehem, but then these Magi came, men from the East looking for the King of the Jews. They bowed to him on the dirt floor of our little house. I don't understand it all, but somehow their dealings with Herod put us in danger.

I had another dream. This time the angel said to pick up and go for Egypt, leaving Herod to dodge. So we moved again. I didn't much like Egypt. We found a synagogue and lived in a Jewish neighborhood, but I really started to miss Galilee. Herod finally died, so we figured to go back. But Archelaus was the next Roman puppet king, and I didn't want to be in his way. So we took the boy and went back to Galilee, Nazareth. Maybe the neighbors would be tired of whispering.

We made our life in Nazareth. I held his hands and trained them to a carpenter's work. After all, David had been a simple shepherd. This boy could begin as a carpenter. But what then? The other children came along, some with good, strong hands able to get everything a piece of wood had to offer. But not Him. His hands were not made for carpenter's work. He had other business--business angels sang about, business that brought Magi from the East, business that scares the tin-crowned kings of this world. I didn't get to see how it turned out. I wasn't there. But I can usually look at a man's hands and read his work. Show me his hands, and I'll tell you his work.

From "The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
by Woodrow Kroll
www.backtothebible.org
Copyright �1996-2000 The Good News Broadcasting Association, Inc.
All rights reserved.

"The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
Angels - Voices Of Praise
by Woodrow Kroll

Luke 2:8-14

I have seen some of your paintings of angels. Not very accurate, whatever artistic and symbolic merit they may have. Why do some of these artists try to make us look like lovely soft women? Let's correct that idea right now. When you think of an angel, don't think of soft clouds or chubby little cartoon cherubs decorating packages of bathroom tissue. We belong to the army of God, His heavenly host. We are a mighty, terrible host, surrounded with the blinding glory of God's holiness. Every time a human actually sees one of our physical manifestations, he collapses in terror. Like your human armies, we have ranks and orders, differing duties and tasks. Some angels are not quite so military of course, but me and my boys are real army. We've been in on some of the great campaigns. Our regiment follows the Commander Himself. He has a very particular interest in earth. So many of our operations have brought us into this arena of conflict.

Earth, you know, is contested territory. Oh, there's no real question of Who really rules, but the final mop-up action is being delayed in order to complete certain rescue operations in which our Commander has taken a personal part. We look forward to the end of it all. The day is coming when the last battle will take place. All of the hostiles will gather against our Commander and will mount a terrible offensive. We will be with Him when He meets them on that day. There's no doubt at all about the outcome of that conflict.

In the meantime, our missions are typically restraining actions related to the ongoing rescue program. We move into an area and secure a perimeter of operations from enemy interference. For instance, on one occasion, Notham, the village of God's prophet Elisha, was surrounded by the Syrian army. Our unit was deployed to ensure the safety of that prophet and clear the area of hostiles. Elisha knew we were there. He had notification from our Commander. But the prophet's servant was uninformed. Elisha requested from the Commander that we be manifested for the benefit of the servant, so we executed a partial decloaking. The servant was duly impressed.

Most of the time, however, we remain undetected. We've been present in numerous instances with the Commander as auxiliary for operations which have been accomplished by human participation. I'm not permitted to detail the particular areas of some of our current activity, although I can relate that some of the prophets have seen into heaven itself and have been enabled to observe us between missions. For example, the prophet Micaiah was shown the throne room with all our host standing on the right and left in council. On that occasion, the item of business was a certain action of judgment against the human king, Ahab. The objective was that he be taken out by his own foolish attack on Gilead. The strategy that was implemented involved only one operative. This operative caused the false prophets whom Ahab consulted to give him erroneous hopes of victory, and thus entice him to attack Gilead.

I understand many of you may have the notion that serving in an army is a matter of grim, unquestioning duty. That may be the case in some human deployments, but it is emphatically not the case with us in the angel corps. Every last one of us serves because of love for the Commander. We would follow Him anywhere and do anything He requested. You can get some idea of our motivation for service by remembering how the soldiers under David loved him. My squad was in the area one time when David and his command were surrounded by the enemy. Maintaining themselves in a secure point of seclusion, David remarked casually how good a drink of water would taste. Some of his men traversed the enemy camp without being discovered, and I might interpose that our escort had something to do with that, and David's men brought him the water just because they loved him.

That's how it is in this army. We love Him. Not one of us would hesitate in the slightest to perform any assignment that He might choose to give. You can hear our love for Him in the songs we sing when we are on parade. How does the saying go? There are three things that are stately in their stride, four that move with stately bearing, a lion, mighty among beasts who retreats before nothing, a strutting rooster, a he-goat, and a king with his army around him. You should see our King with His army around Him.

Actually, some men did see something like it once. I mentioned earlier that our Commander has taken a very personal part in the rescue operation on Earth. By His plan He left heaven and was born into the human race. It was His mission to effect a blow to the key power of the enemy, effectively opening the gates from the inside to secure the escape of the rescuees. We had been with Him in smaller companies since He joined Himself to His human mother's flesh, keeping her under close guard during her season of pregnancy. But we were all there in full array on the night selected for His human birth. There was some possibility that the enemy would attempt to oppose this action, so we were prepared to secure the area. Of course, as it happened, the enemy was not encountered in the area that night and only some time later did he mount the counterstrike. So we had nothing to do but watch, and we sang.

Have you ever heard a really big men's choir? Start with that idea, but imagine them not in choir robes, but girded for battle. Not grim draftees, but soldiers terrible in joy. Not so few you could count them if you tried, but legions and legions. Not singing with weak human lungs, but sounding the eternal chords with which the morning stars sang at creation. Not bare four-part harmony, but every voice with a different song and all the voices fitting together like a million pieces of a stained-glass window into the glory of heaven. Not a song with a few words and a chorus, but a song that could not be contained even if you knew all the greatest words from all the languages of earth. A song, if you tried to sing it, it would say, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill towards men." That was singing.

When you sing that way, you have to share it with an audience. So we found some sleeping shepherds and gave them a little concert--a concert of love. Our love for the Commander. God's love for the earth. And if you have love for this God who joined the human race, maybe you can enlist with our singing army. The twelve voices of Christmas? The twelve legions of voices! Voices of praise, voices singing of endless love, voices singing glory to God in the highest!

From "The Twelve Voices Of Christmas" by Woodrow Kroll
www.backtothebible.org
Copyright �1996-2000 The Good News Broadcasting Association, Inc.
All rights reserved.

"The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
Shepherds - Voices Of Declaration
by Woodrow Kroll

Luke 2: 8-17

Who's there? What? What do you want? Oh. Well, come over by the fire. It's cold tonight. Sit down. We don't get many visitors out here. Nobody bothers much with shepherds. We're the most despised class of people in Israel. Oh, most of the proper folk down the road there in Jerusalem won't have anything to do with us. They think we're all thieves. I won't say that some aren't, but, well, don't worry about your purse while you're with our group.

Does the smell bother you? I didn't notice it myself. You understand we are in the fields for weeks at a time. Don't have many opportunities to wash. Of course, with so many sheep, well, at least we are in the open air.

I love these dark, crisp nights when the stars are so thick. I wouldn't trade it for life in the city, even though it would be nice to go up to the temple more often. What? You think that just because we are shepherds we cannot love God? What about King David? He was a shepherd, a man after God's heart he was. He loved the temple. Or are you like everyone else who look down on us because we don't observe all their religious traditions? As if we might be so many Pharisees! But we're out in the fields.

What is it that you want with us? The twelve voices of Christmas? You want to know if we're one of those twelve voices? Yes. We are the voices of declaration. We remember that night. How could we forget? A shepherd doesn't have much excitement in his life. Our days are spent with the animals, searching for what little grass we can find. In the evening, we take the sheep to some shelter, a pen or a sheepfold, and take turns watching. There are still lions and other wild animals in many places.

That night was like any other. We were tired. It was quiet. The fire felt good against the cold. Suddenly, the darkness was split with a blinding flash. We fell to the ground in fear, completely overcome. I remember covering my head and my eyes. I was terrified. Someone, some being was there! It was the angel of God. The angel told us that earlier that evening, just across the fields in the village of Bethlehem, the Messiah had been born--the One all our people were waiting for. He even told us how to find Him--to go into Bethlehem and seek Him in a manger, wrapped in swaddling clothes. I thought that strange. Is that where the Messiah should be? He shouldn't be wrapped in bundles of cloth and in a manger! He should be wrapped in purple at the king's palace or maybe at the temple itself. But what do I know? I'm only a shepherd.

Well, we were just beginning to recover our senses when this angel was joined by a whole army of angels. Suddenly the sky was filled with them. They were praising God, saying, "Glory to God in the highest!" And louder than rolling thunder were the booming voices of this angelic host. Then they finished. Just as quickly as they came, the angels were gone. It was dark and still. We looked at one another. We couldn't stay there. We had to leave the fields and go into Bethlehem to find Messiah for ourselves.

The village was crowded with visitors who were in town for a big Roman census. So many people! We went to the inn, to the stables out back. Here we were, a gaggle of dirty shepherds. A man we took to be the baby's father stopped us just inside the door, anxious to preserve his wife's privacy, I think. We tried to explain about the angels, and then the soft voice of the baby's mother called. "It's all right, Joseph. Let them in."

We made our way to the back of the stable, and there was the babe. Something to make angels sing! But what could a shepherd do? We fell on our knees before Him. I wouldn't trade that moment even if I could be the sweetest smelling priest in the temple. We lingered a while and talked to the parents. I told them again that we had seen an angel and what he had told us about the child, and that he even told us that the baby would be lying in a manger. That's how we knew this was the Savior, Christ the Lord. I said, "And then that one angel was joined by an army of angels, all praising God for this child. We had to come and see for ourselves. We had to praise Him, too."

Well, by now you are thinking all this sounds pretty crazy. Shepherds? Why would God reveal the birth of the Messiah first to shepherds? I'll tell you. I don't know. But I'm not complaining. We finished talking and the stable turned quiet. We all were looking at that baby. Then for some reason, I thought of the four lepers of Samaria. Maybe you know the story. At one time in our history, the Syrians besieged Jerusalem and the city was starving. So four lepers decided to leave Jerusalem and give themselves up to the Syrians in hopes of getting some food. But when they arrived at the enemy camp, the lepers found it empty. All the Syrians were gone. These lepers went tent to tent and found food, water, clothes--everything they could want! They, too, wondered at their good fortune. One of the lepers said, "This is a day of good news, and we cannot remain silent." So they went back to the city to tell everyone their good news.

That's how I felt. We, the undesirables and not so much better in many eyes than lepers, had found the Christ-child. Others must hear this good news, too. So we left that cattle stall and told everyone we saw that the Savior had been born in Bethlehem. That's how we became the voices of declaration. Somehow God had decided that we--simple, smelly shepherds--would be the ones to spread the word that the Savior had come. The Pharisees in Jerusalem who had studied the law and kept all the commandments, they were not the first ones to hear the news. Lonely, lowly shepherds became the voices of declaration. We blended our voices with the twelve voices of Christmas.

We're the voices of declaration. You wouldn't recognize our names, but that night God took those who were last and made them first. First to declare the tidings of great joy.

From "The Twelve Voices Of Christmas" by Woodrow Kroll
www.backtothebible.org
Copyright �1996-2000 The Good News Broadcasting Association, Inc.
All rights reserved.

"The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
Anna - Voice Of Thanksgiving
by Woodrow Kroll

I am an old woman. I come here to the temple every day. My name is Anna, of the tribe of Asher. Asher, you wonder? Whoever heard of anyone from the tribe of Asher? When Joshua divided Canaan, the tribe of Asher got its land far in the north. It was a weak tribe, unable to drive out the Phoenicians. In later years some of its cities were given to the king of Tyre. And when Israel fell to Assyria, the ten tribes of the north, including Asher, were scattered in captivity and disappeared from history.

But my ancestors left their inheritance in the north and moved to Judah before the Assyrians came, and ours was not the only family that hated the idolatry of the north and so moved south to Judah where they could worship at the temple in Jerusalem. We kept the records of our genealogy. That was all so many hundreds of years ago.

My father's name is Phanuel, or as we Jews pronounce it, Peniel. You remember the patriarch Jacob who wrestled with the angel of the Lord. Then he changed the name of the place to Peniel, the face of God--for he had seen God face to face and lived. Think of that--to see the face of God! Does that sound funny to you? How can a person see the face of God, who is a Spirit? Remember what the psalm says: "My heart says of You, seek His face. Your face, Lord, I will seek. Do not hide Your face from me."

I have sought the face of God for many years. Do you know what? I have looked into the face of God. I am 84 years old. Years ago I was married, but my husband died after just seven years together. So I have been a widow ever since, with no home but the temple, no family but God's people. I am a prophetess. I fast and pray night and day. In Israel we believe that prayer, fasting and thanksgiving must be given to God by His people. It takes me so close to God that sometimes I can hear Him speak to me. Among the 12 voices of Christmas, I am the Voice of Thanksgiving.

Since I spend almost all my time at the temple, I was there as a matter of course the day that I saw His face. I was standing in the temple courtyard praying. People were coming and going, as they always do. Suddenly I stopped my prayer and turned to one of the gates. Across the courtyard I saw a man and his young wife enter the temple carrying a little baby. That was not so unusual. Couples regularly bring their babies to the temple for dedication.

But as soon as this couple entered the courtyard, an old man approached them. I could see them talking. I began to make my way through the crowd across the portico and up the stairs to the level of the courtyard where the couple stood. The pretty young wife looked at her husband and then held out her child to the old man. He took the baby in his arms and then held him above his head. The old man had a very loud voice. People stopped and stared. By that time I had come close enough to hear him praising God. He said, "Mine eyes have seen Thy salvation, a light of revelation to the nations and the glory of Thy people Israel!"

I knew he was right. This baby was God's anointed, the One our people had been waiting for to redeem Jerusalem. The old man finished his prayer and gave the baby back to his mother. They talked. I could not hear it all. Such a look crossed that young mother's face! As soon as the old man finished, I pushed up to the couple. If this was God's anointed, I had to be in on the celebration! Before they could move away, I put my hand on her arm. She smiled and showed me the baby. Ah! I saw the face of God on that child. I raised my hands and opened my mouth in thanksgiving to God for bringing this baby into the world. This child was one for whom the world should be grateful. My thanks were voiced on behalf of all those who look for redemption in Jerusalem. Our redemption had come in this baby. This child was the key to our redemption.

I sang songs of praise from the great singers of Israel. "Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving, and make a joyful noise unto Him with psalms! Enter His gates with thanksgiving and come into His courts with praise! Be thankful unto Him, and bless His name!" I kissed the girl's cheek. I turned to the crowd. "Today God has brought His redemption to Jerusalem! Hear the word of Jehovah! Give Him thanksgiving, for His mercy endures forever!" I walked all over the courtyard that day, repeating the news again and again--"God has visited His people. He has not hidden His face from them, but the light of His countenance has come to shine on His people." I looked into the face of God. I raised my voice of thanksgiving for all His people to hear.

From "The Twelve Voices Of Christmas" by Woodrow Kroll
www.backtothebible.org
Copyright �1996-2000 The Good News Broadcasting Association, Inc. All rights reserved.

"The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
Simeon - Voice Of Peace
by Woodrow Kroll

Luke 2:25-35

No one liked them. We didn't want them here. But it looks like they are here to stay. They've been here 60 years already. When their general, Pompeii, marched in and subdued our land, all of us in Judea knew that we had fallen to an unequaled military empire. I was only a child, but I remember. The Romans grabbed our country by the throat with an iron grip. They set up camps, built fortresses, and dug artificial sea harbors. In some ways our conquerors have treated us with respect. They gave us special permission so we could continue practicing our religion. They let us build synagogues. They do not force us to violate our Sabbath. We are even exempt from service in the Roman army.

But on the whole, they act with cruel arrogance. They have confiscated our homes, violated our women and demoralized our nation. They punish resistance ruthlessly. Slaves and foreigners are crucified on Roman crosses planted all over the Mediterranean world. How can anyone who is oppressed like that speak of peace?

Soldiers everywhere. Garrisons. Horses. Spears. Armor. There can be no peace in this land as long as Rome rules. Some in our land dare to plot rebellion. Zealots. Many have died. I fear many more will, too. But Rome and monsters like her will not be conquered by Zealots. So others in our land seek another path to peace.

I belong to a small group of men and women who are looking for God's solution to the problem of Rome. We believe He has one. Our prophets have written that one day God Himself will restore Israel to blessing, joy and peace. So we do not plan raids and we do not keep secret caches of arms, but we do earnestly anticipate a day when Israel will be free from these Roman dogs. That day is coming. God has promised.

We beseech Him daily with our prayers. "Hear our just cause, O Lord. Give heed to my cry. Give ear to my prayer, which is not from deceitful lips. Let my judgment come forth from Thy presence. Let Thine eyes look with equity." The psalms of David are powerful for praying down God's kind of peace. This is how we wait for the consolation of Israel. This is how we help bring it about.

So I am the voice of peace. I am Simeon. I'm not a priest. I'm not even a Levite. I have no special duties in the temple, other than the duty of all God's people to honor and worship Him, to delight Him, and to call upon His name. I believe the promises of God. Would you think me strange if I told you that one time I received a personal promise from God? You might think I am crazy, but I ask, "Why should not God talk to a man?"

It happened like this. I had been praying from the Psalms. "Why are the nations in an uproar and the peoples devising vain things? The kings of the earth take their stand and the rulers take counsel together against the Lord and against His anointed?" You know how it goes. And in my heart, I was laughing. What a joy it would be to see all the warring kings silenced by God's King when He gives Him the nations for an inheritance! The peace that God brings will be real peace.

And as I prayed and thought these things, God made a promise to me. He told me that I would live to see the arrival of His anointed. What does a man do with such a promise? Since the Book said that God would install His King upon Zion, His holy mountain, I began to spend all the time I could in the temple. I was there with the crowd for each of the regular times of prayer and sacrifice. I was there at other times, too. I chanted the psalms day after day, worshipping God in my heart. I was not there all the time, but I was there often.

One day I saw a young woman and her husband bring their new baby to the temple. This is not unusual in itself. Many babies are born, and many are presented in Jerusalem. Our law requires that after giving birth to a son, a woman cannot enter the temple until after her purification service on the fortieth day. That is when the child is presented in dedication. Many old women come to the temple each day and like to make a fuss over the babies. Temple grannies, I call them. It is not unusual for the parents to let one of these women hold the child and pray for it, especially a child from their tribe in Israel.

When this couple entered the courtyard, I knew this was the child God had promised. I hurried over to them. I held out my arms like an old temple granny and asked to hold their baby boy. The young woman looked at her husband. He smiled and nodded. She gently held out her baby. I took Him in my arms and held Him close to my chest. My eyes filled with tears. The promised Messiah! I lifted Him high in the air and began to praise God. I lifted my voice, the voice of peace, and thanked God. After this, I would be ready to go. God could now permit His servant to die in peace.

We did not live in a peaceful land or in a peaceful time, but this baby was going to bring peace. I was holding Him in my hands. I had seen God's salvation. I had seen God's light to the nations, the glory of Israel. Here was peace.

I handed the infant back to His mother. I had said quite a bit, more than most temple grannies would. I could tell they had not expected it, so I tried to explain. I told them what God had promised me. I blessed them. I told them some of the great promises of God concerning His anointed. And I watched Mary's face, I caught a sudden terrible glimpse of her future. What great sorrows lay ahead for her! I wondered at what cost her Son would purchase peace.

Then the couple told me about the shepherds who visited them on the night their Son was born. They told me how the army of angels the shepherds saw sang. "Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth!" Peace on earth.

I add my voice of peace to that chorus. I saw that peace face to face in a baby from Bethlehem. I may live in a land filled with hatred and oppression, but God let me live to see His anointed Christ. The Lord is enthroned as King forever! The Lord gives strength to His people! The Lord blesses His people with peace!

From "The Twelve Voices Of Christmas" by Woodrow Kroll
www.backtothebible.org
Copyright �1996-2000 The Good News Broadcasting Association, Inc.
All rights reserved.

"The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
Herod - Voice Of Deception
by Woodrow Kroll

Matthew 2:1-12

(Coughing). Go away. Are you another one of those useless physicians? Leave me alone and let me die. You're not a doctor? You didn't come to plead for the prisoners in the Hippodrome, did you? Because you can save your breath. They shall not be released. When I die, they shall all be killed. This land will mourn at my death.

You want to hear about what? Magi? Bethlehem? Ha! Begone! I remember nothing about it. Oh. You mean those magicians from the East, Chaldeans. Agents of the Parthians, more likely. Yes, I saw them. It was a minor affair. They were chasing down some stardust fable, looking for one born King of the Jews, they said. Very nice and polite they were. They knew how to bow, anyway. But I saw through them. Well, I am King of the Jews! Look no further. Any other talk is treason, and I will not abide treason! (Coughing). Don't look at me so.

Oh, I know why you're here. You're hear to plead for Archelaus. No. My mind is made up. Antipas shall succeed me. I've seen to that. Do not argue for Archelaus or I'll do to him what I did to Antipater! Antipater, my son. Well, he had it coming. He wanted to be king before his time. This is my reign and I'll share it with no rival. I would think that's clear by now.

Is that pity or contempt I read on your face? Spare me your condescension. You want to know about Bethlehem? Why? What is Bethlehem? A little village, a no place. What is the death of a few children? Don't let it bother you. A small village. How many two-year-old boys could there have been? No one cares. Actually, the people like me. Yes, I'm popular. Well-liked. Well, if I'm not, I should be.

What about the temple? I built their temple, didn't I? The rabbis say, "If you haven't seen Herod's temple, you haven't seen beauty." You see? They should love me. But no. They have to behave like barbarians. They come at night and tear down Rome's eagle from the temple gate. Are they crazy? Who do they think rules this world? So you better leave his eagle in its place. It's rebellion, and I will not abide rebellion! I had them all burned alive. I'm still king in Jerusalem. I am the rightful king of the Jews. Let no one say otherwise. Let no one call me illegitimate.

Idumean! What is Idumean? Was not Edom Israel's friend? Was not Esau Jacob's brother? Or I suppose you would rather I had left Judea to the Parthians, those plunderers and their puppet Antigonas. He was no true Hasmonian. He betrayed the bravery of his fathers, the Maccabees. He had to be deposed. You accuse me of brutality, but what about his mutilations of Hercanus so the old man could no longer be high priest? Should I stand by and let that go unchallenged? Never. And when we had him, I made sure he wouldn't cause trouble again. If you ask me, beheading was too good for him. And when we sacked Jerusalem, I was the one who kept the Romans out of the temple. Without my intervention, they would have looted the city, desecrated the holy place.

But does anyone remember that? Does anyone thank me for exterminating that vermin Antigonas and those 45 fawning, power-hungry, traitorous nobles he kept in his filthy pocket? I am the only king, Judeans. So don't worry yourself about trivial events. Bethlehem was nothing. Mothers lose sons every day in the army. Why shouldn't a few mothers lose their sons for their king?

Wise men. They were funny. They walked right in and asked to see the baby born King of the Jews. How foolish! Did they know nothing of me? How dare they! Or was this cunning? Were they being clever? Nothing more secret than that which is too obvious, huh? I am the voice of deception, and I used deception on these Magi to accomplish my will. First, I called for the scribes and teachers. What about it, men? Is there a prophecy about someone to be born king? I had to know. Are these wise men as simple as they would have me take them to be? Or is there something else behind it?

My scribe said there will be a king. The prophets wrote that He would be born in Bethlehem of Judea. They said the King born in Bethlehem was a new David, come back for His throne. They say the throne of David was an everlasting throne and it will never lack one to sit on it. Whoever said that doesn't know Herod the Great! I am King of the Jews! My throne is the throne in Jerusalem!

And I fooled the wise. I told them, "Go ahead to Bethlehem. Find the infant king and then come back and lead me to Him, that I may worship Him too." As if I would bow my knee to anyone! I am the king. If there is any bowing to be done, let it be done to me. I will be a long time in Sheol before I bow my knee to any baby born in Bethlehem.

But they lied. The wise men did not come back to Jerusalem. My soldiers chased the rumor of their travel to the borders of the kingdom. They returned to their own land without telling me. That was not wise. Did they really think they could protect this child by running away? But I knew. I knew where He was, Bethlehem. I knew when they had seen His star and it was a simple matter. They thought they had protected the boy. How would they like this? Their scheme had brought death to many sons.

You are weak. I see it in your eyes. Perhaps you pity the mothers of Bethlehem. But their sons died for their country. Any mother of Bethlehem should be proud to have her son die so that the king should have his throne. The baby of Bethlehem died for a kingdom.

Can't you see it? Are you so blind? You tell me--if you had a throne, would you surrender it? Would you bow to one like that and call Him Lord? Well, I don't give up my throne to anyone. Not to the Parthians. Not to Cleopatra, though she seduce a thousand Anthonys. And certainly not to a baby from Bethlehem.

A new David, come back for his throne. An everlasting throne that will never lack one to sit on it. What a throne that would be! I die, and my kingdom is divided. What a King that would be! I die, and this David comes to life. A David. A throne. A kingdom. An ancient promise. "And thou, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, who are little among the clans of Judah, yet from you shall come forth One who is to be ruler in Israel, whose origin is from of old, from ancient of days." What a throne that would be. What a King that would be. Herod the Great, the voice of deception, just five days after executing one of his sons, Antipater, whom he had accused of treason. Herod's son Antipas did not inherit his father's kingdom. The hostages in the Hippodrome were released, and Herod did not kill the Child born to the throne of David, who was in Egypt when Herod died.

From "The Twelve Voices Of Christmas" by Woodrow Kroll
www.backtothebible.org
Copyright �1996-2000 The Good News Broadcasting Association, Inc. All rights reserved.

"The Twelve Voices Of Christmas"
Wise Men - Voices Of Adoration
by Woodrow Kroll

Matthew 2:1-12

We are Babylonians. We belong to a caste of men who occupy positions of court in Babylon. We are the most learned men of our country. We have dedicated our lives to the study of the sciences, especially astronomy. We also have some experience with the black arts, divination, magic, sorcery, that sort of thing. Our knowledge contains elements of science, and what you would classify as superstition. Some call us astrologers because we study the constellations and try to understand how the heavens govern the affairs of earth. We are powerful and respected. We are sometimes sent from Babylon as ambassadors, or loaned as advisors to kings and governors. So it was not that unusual that we should travel to a distant land to visit a king. When we came to Judea, we visited two kings. One, in a palace with a marble floor; the other, in a poor house with a dirt floor. To one we paid our proper respects; to the other we gave our complete adoration.

There have been others like us in other kingdoms for centuries. The Hebrews have encountered our kind before. The Jewish patriarch Joseph met wise men in Egypt. Moses contested with Pharaoh's wise men at the time of the Exodus. One of the great heroines of Israel, Esther, encountered men of our class in the Persian empire. Even the great Jewish prophets have spoken with us, men like Jeremiah and Ezekiel. We are well-known in this part of the world.

So it should not surprise you to see wise men raising their voices among the twelve voices of Christmas. What might surprise you is that we join our voices in adoration to the Jews' Messiah. We adore the Anointed One of Israel because He is the Savior of us all. We are not kings as some would describe us. We came to find the One who had been born King of the Jews. We came to worship Him. We are the Voices of Adoration.

You may wonder how we knew to expect a child who would be born King of the Jews. Could we read such things in the stars? We first learned that a Messiah of the Jews was coming hundreds of years ago, during the days of Israel's captivity in Babylon. The wise men of Judah--Daniel, Hannaniah, Mishael, and Azariah--told us the Messiah would be sent by God to bring peace and freedom, joy and comfort, salvation to all mankind. Their knowledge and learning was recorded in our books. We kept their scrolls. Their words were forgotten or ignored by many in our order, but some few of us retained a special interest in this prophecy. We watched for signs of this king. That is how we knew to come to Palestine. We knew the teaching of your prophets.

But you may ask how did we know when to come? I do not have time now to give you a detailed explanation of our system of star observation and study. Suffice it to say, that as we observed the heavens, we saw the star signifying the promised King of the Jews rising in the East. We took this as an indication from the God of Heaven that He was now fulfilling His promise of salvation.

So we set out on our journey to the land of the Jews. The star disappeared, and we did not see it again until we arrived in Jerusalem. Once in the capital city, we began to inquire where the One born King of the Jews might be. We were puzzled because the Jews did not seem to know what we were talking about. We had come hundreds of miles to see the One born King. They didn't seem to know there was anyone born King. We wondered if perhaps we had come for nothing. You know, sometimes even wise men can be wrong.

The Jewish ruler, a man named Herod, called us to his palace at night. Perhaps his daytime schedule was too busy. Perhaps he had other reasons. The king seemed very interested in this Christ child. He told us that his experts said the child would be born in Bethlehem. He asked when the star had appeared. He sent us to find the child and told us that when we found Him, we should come back and tell him where to find the child so that he, too, could worship the Christ. I had my doubts about this Herod. Even in our brief visit, I could tell he was not loved by his people. He was served from fear. I recognized all the marks of a petty tyrant. They are the same in any land. His smooth speech served only to make us wary.

We set out for Bethlehem. We were gladdened to see the Messiah's rising star again. The star hung low in the heavens and seemed to lead us right to the Bethlehem house where Mary, Joseph and the young boy were living. We knocked, and a peasant opened the door. "Where is He who has been born King of the Jews?" He studied us for a moment. There we stood, strangers dressed in beautiful Babylonian gowns, asking to see the King of the Jews. I could see his wife in the room behind him, trying to see who was at the door. The man made up his mind. He stepped back and held open the door for us to enter. We stooped through the doorway and entered their cramped quarters. Our host went through the door at the back and spoke briefly with a man in another part of the house. I got the impression they were relatives.

The young woman sat with the boy in her lap. He might have been a year, a year and a half. Not more than two. We approached Him solemnly and bowed with our faces to the dirt floor. In all my years of bowing to kings and governors, I never knew what a bow was meant for. It was meant for Him, the King of the Jews, the One we read of in Daniel's scroll. This child was appointed to finish transgression, to make an end of sin, and to anoint the holy place of God. This child--sitting before us in His mother's lap. I trembled. We worshipped. We lifted our voices in adoration, chanting in the Babylonian tongue, surely unlike any that little village had ever heard.

We stayed and talked with them far into the night. We listened to them tell about angels, the birth of the child at the inn, Joseph's dream. We told them that Herod had expressed an interest in the child. I could tell they were not pleased by that news. We left them and stayed at the inn.

That night the God of Heaven gave us dreams. We are experts in dreams, and when we discussed our dreams in the morning, it was clear to us that we should not go back to Herod. We circled around Jerusalem and left Judea by another way.

We found one king and hid ourselves from another. One King to be adored, one King to whom the ancient writings pointed, of whom the stars of heaven testified, for whom we wise men of the East raised our voices in adoration.

From "The Twelve Voices Of Christmas" by Woodrow Kroll
www.backtothebible.org
Copyright �1996-2000 The Good News Broadcasting Association, Inc.
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