508
T h
December 1932
K i n g ’ s
B u s i n e s s
I A Gkrhdm as
HOM ILY
By EZRA S. GERIG Portland, Oregon
o nce more we approach the memorable Christmas season. .Our thoughts inevitably turn to the advent of the Saviour. Again we muse upon the sacred narrative of His birth, that story perennially new, glowing with a beauty and attractiveness divine. Each year the ever-faithful Holy Spirit, who delights to receive the things of Christ, and show them unto us, brings to light, for our meditation and appropriation, some hitherto undiscovered element of truth. That word of the angel messenger to the seeking shep herds— “ This shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes’fi-has hitherto been shrouded in mystery to me. Why wrapped in “ swaddling clothes” ? And why this “a sign unto you” ? Certainly everything associated with the birth of the Saviour-King breathes the spirit of humility and presents to every believer and follower of the Christ a clarion call to manifest this superlative virtue. The manner o f His coming “ out of the ivory palaces into this world of woe”
and burial. I believe it was as if the angel messenger had said, “ Ye shall find the Babe wrapped in graveclothes.” He was marked for death at His birth. Three worlds were intensely interested in that “ sign,” and well they might be. Angel choirs sounded loud and long their hallelujah chorus when the eternal Son became Man for man’s sake; the legions of hell were roused into fiendish activity, as proved by their later attempt to destroy Him ; longing souls of men sought1Him who came to be a Sav iour. All beheld Him wound about with graveclothes! Think of it, the manger Babe in clothes of death—this Child born to d ie! Here, in Bethlehem’s manger, we learn the purpose of His advent. He came not to live, nor teach, nor serve: H e came to die! The incarnation was the essen tial preparation for the crucifixion and resurrection. And why His death? Oh, the marvel of it—wonder of won ders—He died that sin-stricken mortals need not die, but that, trusting in the efficacy of His death, they might live forever. Shout it with the angel messenger, “ Good
tidings of great jo y !” “ Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable gift.” T he S waddling , C lothes of S elf Has the Christ-Child been born again in the manger of your heart? Has He come into your heart with His reign of peace? Has His joy and love become your abiding legacy? Has He become reincarnated in your life ? Is His eternal and uncre ated life your present and age-abiding possession ? , And you, O believer! Have you wrapped Him in the swaddling clothes of a crucified self ? Have you become identified with Him in His death that you might share with Him in His resur rection life, power, vic tory, and glory? Too m a n y o f u s i n t o whose hearts He has come have veiled Him | [Continued on page 514]
shames the very thought of personal pride or love of self. But there is a deeper meaning here. The “ swad dling clothes” were for a “ sign,” hence it could not have been customary to enfold new-born in fants in common uncut cloth. It was that mark by which the shepherds would recognize t h e Christ-Child. “ Swaddling clothes” a “ sign” ! But is it possible that there is yet a more profound sig nificance in this “ sign” ? T he C lothes of D eath A flood of light bursts in upon this bit of Scrip ture from the closing part of the same Gospel, whence we learn that once more was Christ' wrapped in uncut cloth— at the time of His death *Superintendent, Union Gos pel Mission.
Í
The Greatest Birthday B y W il l iam L uff
Come softly to that lowly place Where Christ the Lord was born: And in His birth the birthday trace O f many a sunny morn. For in His birth by faith I see The dawning birth o f Light: The Light before whose birth shall flee The darkness o f sin’s night.
The birth o f Light and Hope, and all, I in salvation find. God’s peace, God’s joy, God’s upward call,
Were in that birth enshrined. Yea, in that birth today I see My birth to Life divine: For He was truly born for me: His birth, I know, was mine.
Made with FlippingBook Online document