Go, tell it on the mountain,
O’er the hills and everywhere
Go, tell it on the mountain,
That Jesus Christ is born.

While shepherds kept their watching
o’er silent flocks by night,
Behold, throughout the heavens
There shone a holy light


The shepherds feared and trembled,
When lo! above the earth,
Rang out the angels chorus
That hailed our Savior’s birth.


Down in a lowly manger
The humble Christ was born
And God sent us salvation
That blessed Christmas morn.


*          *          *

There is this little strip on our Earth. It’s about 14,000 feet high, maybe a little less. It goes up to that height, and envelopes this “fragile little globe”, as astronaut Mike Collins called it. In that gossamer envelope, we find all the right components to support everything I’ve ever known; my family, my friends, my perception of humanity. Inside that strip resides all of human history, with all of it’s struggle, all of its attainment, all of its accomplishment, all of its intense and bloody horror.

What is out Beyond this thin, incomprehensibly tiny strip, this life-sustaining envelope?

A universe so vast it cannot be cataloged.

We once thought we could see the edge of the universe with some of our advanced telescopes. But –we then trained the Hubbell Telescope on a tiny section of the darkest darkness, and saw it contained literally 500 billion stars, many of them galaxies of incalculable size. What we heretofore thought was nothingness was somethingness beyond comprehension.

This is the craftsmanship, the mind-blowing creative nature of God, the awesome, creative loving God of the Universe.

–And here I am. Here in this little 14,000 foot band of breathable air. I was born, I stirred for a season or two, and I will die. How on Earth can a God that created this awesome firmament care about “me”.

But He does. So much so, he re-entered this fragile little globe in the form of a tender little baby, so that I might find my way to Him. Can you fathom that kind of Love? For me?

I do– in my finite, human-ness, in my plodding, stumbling way…

I love you, dear Lord. Thank you, Dearest Jesus –tonight– for coming here.

Merry Christmas.