Cfjrtëtmag Jo y
By Bartlett L. Hess, Ph.D.
“And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all peo ple” (Luke 2:10). “ When they saw the star, they re joiced with exceeding great joy” (Matt. 2 : 10 ) .
source of God’s joy; “ good tidings”—the substance of God’s joy; “which shall be to all people”—the sharers of the joy. Substitute For Joy— "Fear Not" Man’s substitute for God’s joy is hap piness and happiness has the grub of fear in its every rosebud. We have it today only to lose it tomorrow. While “ ’tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all” as Tennyson said, yet we are loving only to lose. We rely upon others and things outside our selves to give us pleasure and every thing that threatens them plunges us into the pool of fear. There is God’s joy which came to the world at Christmas, and the world’s joy which is happiness. His joy comes from within and the world’s from without. His joy has deep roots, the world’s are on the surface. His joy flows on forever; the world’s fades away like a week-old rose. His joy fills completely; the world’s covers the exterior. His joy satisfies; the world’s cannot. Lord Byron who tasted deeply of what the world calls pleasure, being a famous poet and writer, a spender of vast sums of money, the suitor of many of the fair sex, wrote his reasoned judgment, “ There’s not a joy the world can give like that it takes away.” The fatal flaw in seeking our own happiness is that we seek to possess. When our possession is according to the
of Christmas, the multitude of friend ships, moments with our families, the specific foods whether plum pudding, roast goose or sugar cookies, the brightly- lighted tree, the lure of the unexpected gift beneath the gay wrappings. All of these things spell Christmas. But it is not of this happiness I wish to write which depends upon people and things about us. It is like the rays of the sun, warming and healing; shut off the sun and there is no light. If we are stripped of family, friends, and food and the fullness of life we enjoy in our warm homes, it might be hard to find happi ness, but it would still be possible to experience joy. It is of this joy I wish to speak, the joy that like the Baby in the manger, borrows nothing but the simplest of swaddling clothes from the world around, the joy that wells up from the deeps of God to fill man’s life with what Peter called “joy unspeakable and full of glory.” We find it vividly described coinci dentally both in Matthew 2:10 and Luke 2:10. Of the wise men who lost the star during their long trek we read, “ And when they saw the star they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.” To the shep herds the angel gave assurance, “ Fear not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all peo ple.” “ Fear not”-—man’s substitute for God’s joy; “ for behold I bring you”—the
“ The world has grown old with its burden and care But at Christmas it always is young.” T HERE is no occasion in the cir cling days of the year that stirs within us such tender memories of the years that have passed or causes our hearts to leap in anticipation of the festivities before us more than the birth day of our Lord Jesus Christ, Christmas. It is a time of happiness. The oldest grandfather or grandmother is a child again, sitting around the wood or coal stove, with a Christmas tree decorated with the flaming, sputtering candles. Gifts are being exchanged, dolls for the little girls, wagons or sleds or sweaters for the boys. Perhaps the memories are of Christmas Eve or of Christmas Day, but always the pleasure of this moment is crammed full of the outpouring of love at each successive Christmas in the years gone by. Even the wistful sadness of thinking of those who long ago or more recently have left the fireside to never again walk the streets of earth is sweetened by the fact that we have so many of our family and friends, so much to give and receive, now. The carols, the Scriptures, the home celebrations make us happy indeed this Christmas Day. We do well to ponder the happiness *Pastor of Warren Park Presbyterian Church, Cicero, III.
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