Friday, December 14, 2007

Winter Without Christmas

I'm freezing cold. A flannel blanket is wrapped about my feet and a fire is crackling in front of me, but it doesn't seem to be enough. Jack Frost has caught up with me, and I can't wait until spring. It's like this every year, or at least as far back as I can remember. Christmas is wonderful. Winter, I can barely stand.

Remember what C.S. Lewis wrote about living under the reign of the White Witch? It's "always winter and never Christmas." How did those Narnians survive? Imagine no hope for a spring; no warm sun to shake icicles off the bones. It sounds like death to me.

In my daily Bible readings, I've been looking into Jeremiah's world. He's a hated prophet-- hated because he is a prophet, and doesn't marinade the truth in honey before serving it. He's blessed to be God's confidante, but it feels like a curse to him. He knows the bloody fate of Jerusalem and he can hardly bear it. It is a heavy knowledge to hold, the future. Jeremiah's mind must have oftened drifted back to the more uplifting hope God offered: The Righteous Branch.

"Behold, the days are coming, declares the LORD, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In his days Judah will be saved, and Israel will dwell securely. And this is the name by which he will be called: 'The LORD is our righteousness.'"
(Jeremiah 23:5-6)

If the future was heavy for Jeremiah, I wonder what God was thinking at the time, knowing so much more. Jerusalem wouldn't always be covered in a blanket of ice and frozen hearts. Eventually the sun would come out again...but not before His own Son's face was smeared with blood. To call it a "Rescue," would be insufficient. A "ransom?" "Sacrifice?" It was the gift of God's Self to a fallen race. What words could describe it?

This is Christmas. The dawn of life and the beginning of the end of death. Jeremiah's anguish cannot be compared to the hope that was embedded in his words. How does Winter stand a chance of conquering with that kind of day in its midst?

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