HOPE OF ALL THE EARTH
The Time Came
December 10, 2025
SCRIPTURE
LUKE 2:6-7
While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.
LUKE 2:6-7
While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.
Perhaps my favourite image of the birth of our Lord is a painting by Gari Melchers named The Nativity. The reason I find it so beautiful is that it is profoundly, uncomfortably real. It couldn't be more different from our Christmas card nativity scenes with all of their warmth and comfort and cosiness.
In this painting, the holy family are depicted in what appears to be a cold and barren, cellar-like space, Mary lying propped up against some cart wheels as she rests, presumably in the attempt to keep the cold and damp from sinking into her bones. Joseph sits awake and hunched over—to my mind, looking utterly terrified. Here is a man very aware of just how out of his depth he finds himself. Any new father may feel that way, but Joseph seems painfully aware that this helpless newborn is the Son of the living God, made flesh in a way that no one could ever have imagined. A water bowl and jar lie beside Mary, draped with a few rags. The delivery clearly happened right on the floor, in the most inauspicious way a king could possibly arrive.
It seems an utterly hopeless scene--except for one thing. In all of their exhaustion and concern, in all their wonderings about what the future holds for their young family, in all the chaos they've just faced and may well face in the future, both Joseph's and Mary's eyes are resolutely fixed on the single source of light in the entire painting--the manger holding the newborn Saviour. A terrified stepfather sitting beside a drained mother can find peace in, draw strength from, and have hope renewed by the One who lies wrapped in cloths, sleeping in a manger.
Jesus is literally the only bright spot in the scene.
Many of us can so easily feel like Joseph—out of our depth, barely keeping our heads above water, living in what an old Chinese proverb calls "interesting times," facing chaos today and uncertainty tomorrow. Peace seems elusive, even impossible.
Yet, for the people of God, Christ is present. He is always intimately, sufficiently present. And, like Joseph in the Melchers painting, we will find that Christ's light is enough to bring encouragement; his light is enough to strengthen and sustain; his light is enough to grant us peace.
So we can launch out again into a disordered world, into a restless world, into a world that seems designed and built to keep us in perpetual chaos. And in the midst of it all, we can be assured that we will make it. Like the disciples had to learn for themselves, Christ will never sink, however rough the storm, and if we are in his boat, we will not sink either. We may not be able to laugh at the storm—the disciples weren't laughing, and they literally had Jesus in the boat. But we can have an ironclad certainty that the storm will pass and that Jesus will be present with us in the midst of it.
When we are most in need of peace, our best course of action is to follow the example of Joseph in the Melchers painting: fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith, the One who gives peace when we need it most, right in the heart of the storm.
In this painting, the holy family are depicted in what appears to be a cold and barren, cellar-like space, Mary lying propped up against some cart wheels as she rests, presumably in the attempt to keep the cold and damp from sinking into her bones. Joseph sits awake and hunched over—to my mind, looking utterly terrified. Here is a man very aware of just how out of his depth he finds himself. Any new father may feel that way, but Joseph seems painfully aware that this helpless newborn is the Son of the living God, made flesh in a way that no one could ever have imagined. A water bowl and jar lie beside Mary, draped with a few rags. The delivery clearly happened right on the floor, in the most inauspicious way a king could possibly arrive.
It seems an utterly hopeless scene--except for one thing. In all of their exhaustion and concern, in all their wonderings about what the future holds for their young family, in all the chaos they've just faced and may well face in the future, both Joseph's and Mary's eyes are resolutely fixed on the single source of light in the entire painting--the manger holding the newborn Saviour. A terrified stepfather sitting beside a drained mother can find peace in, draw strength from, and have hope renewed by the One who lies wrapped in cloths, sleeping in a manger.
Jesus is literally the only bright spot in the scene.
Many of us can so easily feel like Joseph—out of our depth, barely keeping our heads above water, living in what an old Chinese proverb calls "interesting times," facing chaos today and uncertainty tomorrow. Peace seems elusive, even impossible.
Yet, for the people of God, Christ is present. He is always intimately, sufficiently present. And, like Joseph in the Melchers painting, we will find that Christ's light is enough to bring encouragement; his light is enough to strengthen and sustain; his light is enough to grant us peace.
So we can launch out again into a disordered world, into a restless world, into a world that seems designed and built to keep us in perpetual chaos. And in the midst of it all, we can be assured that we will make it. Like the disciples had to learn for themselves, Christ will never sink, however rough the storm, and if we are in his boat, we will not sink either. We may not be able to laugh at the storm—the disciples weren't laughing, and they literally had Jesus in the boat. But we can have an ironclad certainty that the storm will pass and that Jesus will be present with us in the midst of it.
When we are most in need of peace, our best course of action is to follow the example of Joseph in the Melchers painting: fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith, the One who gives peace when we need it most, right in the heart of the storm.
QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION OR DISCUSSION
Google the Melchers painting referenced by the author in this devotional reflection, if you haven't already. Look at it. What do you see in the scene that is different from or similar to the things the author described?
It can be simple to say something like "fix our eyes on Jesus" as a metaphor. But what does that mean in a practical, literal sense? How can it bring us peace?
Google the Melchers painting referenced by the author in this devotional reflection, if you haven't already. Look at it. What do you see in the scene that is different from or similar to the things the author described?
It can be simple to say something like "fix our eyes on Jesus" as a metaphor. But what does that mean in a practical, literal sense? How can it bring us peace?
PRAYER
Write a prayer expressing your appreciation for God's incomprehensible peace.
Write a prayer expressing your appreciation for God's incomprehensible peace.