When I wake up tomorrow, December 25th, our Christmas dummy tree will hopefully still be hanging on the wall, top of the shelf, I wish you could see it! (hey wife, I hope the glue we put stuck, did it? Let me know as soon as possible!)
Lord willing, phones will buzz, I am certain somebody will have slept over at the house. My daughter has already shown an affection for candles, so you get the point.
We are going to rock it! But wait, what does that even mean?
Yes, on the day Jesus was born, we are going to wake up differently- at least as far as our eyes are concerned, maybe we are going to look at some bright new colors in this living room, it’s going to be a sight affair. I mean, ask Moses, isn’t it God that makes eyes anyway?
Yet the ‘light of men’ who makes physical eyes also gives us opportunity to take advantage of our spiritual eyes.
Unlike us though, the Christians Paul prays for in Ephesus were not seeking opticians to enable them behold yet another glittering middle-eastern decor in the corner of living room.
No.
Paul’s concern was that God would open Ephesian believers eyes to know the hope he has called them to.
That the eyes of your heart may be enlightened… (Eph 1:18)
I hope this turns out my family prayer every Christmas, for what benefit is it if I see all these colors on Christmas morning yet my inner eyes have barely seen any light all year round?
If I have kept a dusty Bible for 364 days, what benefit will it be if I sing an isolated verse in the village church pew that advent morning?
What benefit is it if, like the Pharisees, I focus on the form rather than the substance, the massage rather than the surgery.
What shall it profit me to laugh long for one afternoon in a year and bear the weight of a heavy heart for the other 364?
What if the dishes are full and my fridge is stocked but my heart is not? Like King Solomon would say, Isn’t a meal of vegetables with joy better than a barbecue with bitterness?
Son of David, have mercy on me, grant me a glittering inner sight this Christmas!
I am tired of the therapy without the medicine, the glitter without the glory, the massage without the message, the laughter without the joy, the shouting without rejoicing.
I don’t want the massage without the message – the heart surgery, after all, a new heart with new eyes is the only way I am going to see clearly – on Christmas Day, all year round, and forever!
Oh Son of David, that you would grant us all grace to accept the surgical knife of true healing before we lie down to receive the annual massage of Christmas pomp, open the eyes of our hearts, we pray!
