Our Student Minister, Tyler Campbell, spoke this past Sunday in our evening service.  His message was on the first chapter of 2 Peter.  In it, he referenced a wonderful story about a man named Henry Moorhouse and a little girl who had broken her pitcher of milk. 

His source for the story was Robert Jeffress’ book, Grace Gone Wild (Colorado springs:  Waterbrook Press, 2005, p. 9).  I thought I would post that story here today.  I hope you enjoy it.  Dr. Jeffress (who serves as Senior Pastor of the First Baptist Church in Dallas, Texas) writes…

One of my favorite illustrations of grace is from the story of a social worker names Henry Moorehouse who lived in the very worst of slum districts in London, England, in the 1800s.

One evening as he was walking home, Moorehouse saw a little girl carrying a pitcher of milk.  Suddenly she fell, and the pitcher slipped out of her hands and shattered.  As the milk flowed into the gutter, the little girl began to sob uncontrollably.

“Honey, don’t cry,” said Moorehouse as he helped her get up.  But the tears would not stop.  “I’ll get a whipping from my mommy,” the girl said between sobs.  “No, you won’t.  I’ll help you put the pitcher back together again,” Moorehouse assured her.

Suddenly the tears stopped, because the girl had seen other broken pitchers repaired.  But every time it looked as if Moorehouse would succeed, the pitcher would fall apart again.  After several unsuccessful attempts, the girl began crying again.

In the end, Moorehouse lifted the girl in his arms and carried her to a crockery store, where he bought her a brand-new pitcher.  Then he carried her to the store where she had purchased the milk and paid to have the pitcher filled once more.  Finally, he carried her home.

Then Moorehouse asked the little girl if she thought her mother would still whip her.

“No sir,” she smiled.  “This pitcher is much nicer than the one we had before.”  

Dr. Jeffress goes on to point out God has done something even greater than this for us.  Although we were originally created in His likeness, sin shattered His image within us.  We can try to mend that image through good works and religious ritual but we are broken seemingly beyond repair.  But God has done what we cannot do.  He has fixed our brokenness.  In Christ Jesus, we have been made whole.  We have become a new creation!

Praise God for His Son Jesus Christ!  Without Him, we would have no hope whatsoever.  But with Him, we have new life, eternal and abundant!  Amen!
 
 
At the conclusion of the book of Revelation, John adds what scholars call an epilogue.  After detailing the eternal destruction of the Devil and all who follow him in chapter 20, John devotes all of chapter 21 and part of chapter 22 to a description of Heaven.  Then, in the remainder of chapter 22, he extends one final plea for all to come to Christ while there is still time.  In verse 17, he writes:

The Spirit and the bride say, "Come!”  And let him who hears say, "Come!”  Whoever is thirsty, let him come; and whoever wishes, let him take the free gift of the water of life. 

I am reminded by these words that it is clearly the responsibility of the church (as the bride of Christ) to join with God in calling people to repentance.  As followers of Christ, we not only have the privilege of sharing Christ's love; we also have the responsibility to lovingly confront sin and warn people of the consequences of saying no to God. 

A couple of stories serve to illustrate our responsibility in this regard.

The first comes from Duncan Larcombe, who reported a story in the New York Post ("Quake Angel," www.nypost.com, 1-1-05) a few years ago about a little girl whose persistent pleas saved over a hundred lives during the infamous 2004 Indonesian Christmas tsunami.

In Phuket, Thailand, Tilly Smith, a determined 10-year-old girl, saved her parents and dozens of fellow vacationers from the deadly tsunami because she had studied a school geography lesson, and then courageously spoke what she knew to be true. 

As Tilly's family enjoyed a day at Maikhao Beach, the sea began to bubble and rush away from the shore.  While the adults were merely curious, Tilly was petrified with fear.  "Mummy, we must get off the beach now!" she said.  "I think there's going to be a tsunami."

The adults didn't even understand her warning until Tilly referred to it as a tidal wave.  Once they understood, they all believed the youngster and evacuated the area.  Minutes later the water surged right over the beach and demolished everything in its path.  The resort was destroyed, but that section of beach was one of the few places along the shores of Phuket where no one was killed or even seriously hurt. 

Tilly was praised for raising the alarm.  "I think it's phenomenal that Tilly's parents and the others on the beach are alive because she studied hard at school," said the hotel's manager.  "She's a hero."

Tilly gave the credit to her geography teacher for his lesson on how earthquakes cause tsunamis.  She explained, "I was on the beach, and the water started to go funny.  I recognized what was happening and had a feeling there was going to be a tsunami."

By contrast, the October 28, 2010 edition of Smithsonian Magazine carried an alarming story about the 2010 Indonesian Mentawai tsunami, titled "Did Broken Buoys Fail to Warn Victims of the Mentawai Tsunami?"

On October 25, 2010, a massive earthquake set off a tsunami that struck some Indonesian Islands.  The tsunamis leveled whole villages, leaving hundreds dead or missing.  According to the survivors, the deaths could have been avoided, or at least minimized.  Unfortunately, the tsunami warning system—two buoys off the island—weren't working properly.  As a result, they didn't alert the islanders to the coming danger.

Since 2004, experts have improved the tsunami detection network.  The DART buoys (as they are called) measure wave height.  If a buoy measures an unusual wave, it transmits that information to the shore.  This system often provides the only warning signal for islanders to prepare for the oncoming danger.

Unfortunately, according to the report, the buoys "have become detached and drifted away.  Sensors have failed.  As many as 30 percent have been inoperable at any one time.”  As a result, the buoys often fail to awaken people to the reality of future tragedy.

It strikes me that here you have the choice for the church.  We must either remain silent like the buoys or else cry out desperately like little Tilly Smith.  If, like the buoys, we "have become detached or drifted away," and if our love has grown cold or apathetic, we may very well leave others unprepared for the consequences of sin for, both this world and the next.

If, however, we recognize the seriousness of sin and the consequences of rejecting God, then we will remain ever vigilant in our quest to warn people of the judgment to come.  The question for us, the church, is “Which will it be?’’  How will we respond?  Whose life will we save?  Whose salvation will we neglect?

Remember, church, why we are here.  In the words of the Apostle Jude…

But ye, beloved, building up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Ghost, Keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life.  And of some have compassion, making a difference:  And others save with fear, pulling them out of the fire… (Jude 1:20-23)
 
 
I love the old story that is told about an insightful little boy and his father out fishing.  It seems that the two were having a conversation; but the son was waxing a bit more philosophical than the father was.  As the story goes…

The boy told his father, "Dad, if three frogs were sitting on a limb that hung over a pool, and one frog decided to jump off into the pool, how many frogs would be left on the limb?"

The dad replied, "Two."  "No," the son replied.  "There’s three frogs and one decides to jump, how many are left?"

The dad said, "Oh, I get it, if one decides to jump, the others would too.  So there are none left."

The boy said, "No dad, the answer is three.  The frog only DECIDED to jump."

How familiar is that?  And convicting?!  Does it not sound a lot like the New Year’s Resolutions that many of us made at this time last year?  For so many of us, we find ourselves with great inspiration and great resolutions.  But far too often, I fear, we only decide; and months later, we find ourselves having done no more, only to be still sitting on the same old limb of “do-nothing”.

As you make your New Year’s Resolutions this year, remember that they will have no efficacy if they are only decisions.  Whatever things you decide to do must thereafter be followed by you actually doing them!

SOURCE:  Help4Sunday Newsletter, January, 1999.
 
BE IT RESOLVED 12/29/2011
 
Several years ago, Jeanette Case, writing in Reader’s Digest, shared the following humorous story. 

Last year, when I called my parents to wish them a Happy New Year, my dad answered the phone.  "Well, Dad, what’s your New Year’s resolution?”  I asked him.  "To make your mother as happy as I can all year," he answered proudly.  Then mom got on, and I said, "What’s your resolution, Mom?"  "To see that your dad keeps his New Year’s resolution!"

We are all aware that it is that time of year again:  the time to make our resolutions for the coming year.  And well we should.  For, as Robert Chambers pointed out over a century ago…

"The man who does not at least propose to himself to be better this year than he was last must be either very good or very bad indeed.  And only to propose to be better is something, for there is no such thing as a stationary point in human endeavors; he who is not worse today than he was yesterday is better, and he who is not better is worse.”  (Source:  The Book of Days, A Miscellany of Popular Antiquities in Connection with the Calendar, by Robert Chambers:  http://books.google.com/books).

Thus, like many of you, I am spending this particular week thinking of areas in my life that could stand to be improved.  To be honest, that includes just about every component of my life.  And yet, I instinctively know that certain areas in my life are more in need of attention than other areas are. 

Of course, the particular areas of my life or of your life that are in need of attention are less consequential than the underlying principle at stake here.  My challenge is to improve my life by resolving to do better in any area of my own life that may need improving.  And the same could be said for you, and for every other person. 

The real question, then, is whether or not you, I, or any other person actually takes the initiative in order to make whatever changes are called for.  For my part, I at least intend to try.  I hope you will as well.  As we do, perhaps we might just succeed in making those needed changes, and thereby improve our lives in the process. 

And who knows, as we do, we may just inspire others to try as well.  But if we never take the initiative, we will not accomplish anything.  As General Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson was renowned for having put it,

"You may be whatever you resolve to be.  Determine to be something in the world, and you will be something.  "I cannot" never accomplished anything; "I will try" has wrought wonders." (Source:  http://dragoon1st.tripod.com/cw/files/journal_jackson.html).
 
AFTER CHRISTMAS 12/27/2011
 
My father had several wonderful sayings for which he was known.  Among my favorites was one he often quipped at this time of year: “You know, folks, there just ain’t nothin’ ever as over as Christmas!”  How right he was. 

When the last present has been opened, the last piece of candy has been consumed, and the last relative has left, we frequently find ourselves staring at a house full of decorations with somewhat of an empty feeling inside. 

Often, that which had produced so much joy now becomes that which produces so much headache.  And when the dreaded process of un-decorating is finally over, next comes the business of processing and/or returning gifts, and then of writing thank you notes, etc… 

If we are not careful, with so much to do, and with so little time to do it before we resume our normal schedules, we can quickly lose sight of what we were celebrating to begin with. 

Because of this, I thought I would post the following free verse poem by famed author, theologian, and educator Howard Thurman.  It is an insightful piece titled simply…

THE WORK OF CHRISTMAS.

When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among brothers,
To make music in the heart.

Thank you, Howard, for reminding us what truly matters as we now transition from Christmas to New Year’s Day and beyond.
 
OLD MAN JONES 12/22/2011
 
Back in December of 2009, Steve Hugo, Pastor of Calvary Church in Matteson, IL, wrote a thought provoking story about a young boy and his next-door neighbor.  (The original posting of his story can be found at on Rev. Hugo's personal blog site at: http://www.calvarychurchmatteson.org/?p=406.)  I re-post it here, simply because it is one of the most powerful stories I have ever encountered.  It is a clear reminder of the difference that the Christ of Christmas makes when He comes into our lives. 

OLD MAN JONES

For as far back as I can remember, I always treated Old Man Jones, my neighbor, in the worst ways.  Each April 1st, I had the “burning paper bag with dog poop in it” tradition, and although Old Man Jones never fell for it, he still had a mess to clean up each year.  He always knew that it was me, and always said, without anger in his voice, “Someday, you’ll be sorry.”

His driveway was next to ours, and in the winter, I always shoveled our snow onto his drive, giving him twice the work.  He never did get a snow blower, but when I was 12, just before a blizzard, one appeared in my driveway, left by someone, with a note saying, “You might need this!”  I could now delight in blowing all the snow from my driveway, and most of my front yard, onto Old Man Jones’ car.  I would even cut a wider than needed path for my mom’s beater just to put more snow on the dinosaur’s (as my mom called him) driveway.  He always knew that it was me and always said without anger in his voice, “Someday, you’ll be sorry.”

I asked my mom about him once and she didn’t say much other than years ago he had a kid die in a war, and that he was out of date and out of his mind.

I keyed his car more than once.  When I discovered the mint 1969 Mustang Mach Series car that always stayed under a thick canvas cover, kept for someone, I quickly sought to learn how many pumps of my BB rifle it took to break it’s windows.  He knew that it was me and said without anger in his voice, “Someday, you’ll be sorry.”

Between my vandal’s rifle and slingshot, most of his home’s windows had to be replaced at one time or another, not to mention the battered aluminum siding that still bears the myriad of little dents.  He never complained about the shattered bird feeder or the constant supply of dead squirrels, sparrows, cardinals and whatever else winged its way into his yard.  I can’t recall how many times he had to take his cat to the vet to remove a pellet from an infected wound, but I do remember that he always knew that it was me, and always said, without anger in his voice, “Someday, you’ll be sorry.”

At Christmas-time, he used to set up lots of lights around his house that looked like virtual BB magnets, which they were.  A plastic manger scene was the prime target one year, and stayed on the relic’s front lawn until I shot the baby’s face off.  He always knew that it was me and always said without anger in his voice, “Someday, you’ll be sorry.”

There was this room in his house that I would look into sometimes when the old man was away.  It was the kind of room that I would have loved to have, if my mom could ever get a real job.  It was just like one of those “Good Housekeeping” kid’s bedroom that everybody is supposed to want.  I always figured that Jones was on the loony side, and this “keeping a cool room for a kid he didn’t have” thing was the final proof that I needed of his senility.  Maybe he just kept it up in mourning for his dead son.

My family never had a lot of money, but every year, on Christmas, a couple hundred dollars worth of cool stuff was left on my doorstep with “Merry Christmas” and my name written on each carefully wrapped gift.  (That’s where the BB gun came from, along with a great target setup, which was never needed with the shooting range next door.)  My mom, too hung over each Christmas morning to get me up early enough to meet the Gift Bearer, said that the stuff probably came from my grandfather, whom she hadn’t cared to talk to or see since long before I came around.  There had been some long remembered fight over his “interference” in her affairs, of which there were many.  I had never seen him and really didn’t even know or care where he lived, so long as the goodies came.

This Christmas, I got up early on my own because I thought that I might want to see what my ancestor looked like, not to mention that I was hoping for BBs from my benefactor, ’cause Old Man Jones had just gotten a new bird feeder with real glass in it, and my Daisy was calling my name before the sun was up.  Of course, he would know that it was me and he would tell me that someday, I would be sorry.  Whatever.

I was still rubbing sleep from my eyes, when I heard a shuffling on the porch.  As I quietly opened the front door, the rising sun reflected off of an armload of carefully wrapped presents, in silver and gold paper, each with “Merry Christmas” and my name written on it.  There were even some for my mom, but she had never mentioned them before.  The arms were still holding the gifts, but the face was hidden by a tall package.  The obscured gift bearer, aware that I had opened the door, carefully put the gifts down.  Old Man Jones stood up slowly, without stiffness, and through moistened eyes and broken voice said, “Merry Christmas.”

“Someday” certainly had come, and Old Man Jones could have never been more right.  Grace, mercy, acceptance and love had been next to me for all of my life, but in pathetic ignorance, I had abused them, turning their very blessings against their source.

It was all about choice now.  Do I drink deeply of shame and remorse and brokenly embrace him, or do I simply close the door and load my BB gun.  There was a new plastic baby Jesus on his lawn calling my name.

Is the Christ of Christmas calling your name?  If so, what do you intend to do about it?  Will you turn to Him in brokenness, seeking forgiveness and mercy?  Or will you turn your back on Him and carry on with your selfish life and plans?  What difference will He make in your life?  What difference will you allow Him to make?  Think your decision through thoroughly before you decide.  It will radically impact your life, both in this world and in the world to come.
 
 
We have just about reached the conclusion of our study of the Book of Revelation on Wednesday nights at our church.  Revelation chapter 19 gives us the clearest picture of the return of our Lord.  Because of this, and as we approach Christmas Day, I was reminded of this now famous poem:

'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE JESUS CAME

'Twas the night before Jesus came and all through the house,
Not a creature was praying, not one in the house.
Their Bibles were lain on the shelf without care,
In hopes that Jesus would not come there.

The children were dressing to crawl into bed,
Not once ever kneeling or bowing a head.
And Mom in her rocker with baby on her lap,
Was watching the Late Show while I took a nap. 

When out of the East there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash!

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But angels proclaiming that Jesus was here.
With a light like the sun sending forth a bright ray,
I knew in a moment this must be THE DAY! 

The light of His face made me cover my head.
It was Jesus! Returning just like He had said.
And though I possessed worldly wisdom and wealth,
I cried when I saw Him in spite of myself.

In the Book of Life which He held in His hand,
Was written the name of every saved man.
He spoke not a word as He searched for my name;
When He said "It's not here!" my head hung in shame.

The people whose names had been written with love,
He gathered to take to His Father above.
With those who were ready He rose without a sound,
While all the rest were left standing around. 

I fell to my knees, but it was too late;
I had waited too long and thus sealed my fate.
I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight;
Oh, if only I had been ready tonight. 

In the words of this poem the meaning is clear;
The coming of Jesus is drawing near.
There's only one life and when comes the last call
We'll find that the Bible was true after all!

The authorship of this thought provoking little poem is disputed.  Widely dispersed over the internet, it mostly occurs with the notation “Author Unknown”.  The most legitimate claim for authorship, though, appears to come form a certain Rev. Edward M. Gionest, Sr. back in the 1970s.  

If you desire, you can read an excellent article written by a lady named Debbie Christian on the investigation of the authorship of this poem at:  http://www.examiner.com/tampa-christian-spirituality-in-tampa-bay/the-poem-twas-the-night-before-jesus-came.

Irrespective of the identity of the original author, the poem nonetheless accomplishes its purpose.  It challenges one to consider the inextricable link between the first advent and the second advent of Jesus Christ.  He came the first time in the meekest of conditions:  as a helpless Babe in virtual obscurity.  But, when He comes the second time, it will be as a conquering King in full view of the entire world.  And whereas He came the first time in innocence and peace; He will come the second time in judgment and in wrath.

Few took note of His first appearance.  Many today still choose to overlook its significance.  None will miss His second appearance.  And all will be held accountable at that time for their response to His first coming.  I trust you will be prepared for that day when it does come.  If not, why not consider this day the full implications of both His first and His second coming for your life?  Once you have come to know the true joy of a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, I am certain you will be glad you did.

And you will experience Christmas this year in an entirely different way.  For both the Scriptures and the Carols of this season will have meaning to you as they never have before.  And you will find yourself longing for that glorious day in the future when He does return.  As the hymn writer has so eloquently put it:

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

Amen!
 
 
A couple of weeks ago, on the first Sunday night in December, we were privileged to have the Jeff Easter family in concert at our church.  Not a few people noted in jest that we were having an Easter concert at Christmas.  A few even teasingly inquired if we were going to have a Christmas concert next Easter.  Of course, this was all done in fun.  The Easters did a wonderful job leading us as we worshipped God together.

At the same time, there really is a connection between Christmas and Easter.  In fact, the two are inextricably linked together.  And that is a most serious matter, as eternity itself hangs in the balance. 

Earl Allen, a gifted pastor of yesterday, explored this fundamental connection between Christmas and Easter in his book, Sign of the Star.  In it, he related the Suffering Servant passages of the Old Testament, especially those of Isaiah, to the Christmas story.  

Allen wrote: “Near the cradle of Bethlehem stands the cross, God’s Christmas tree—you can’t make anything else out of it.  The blood of Jesus Christ has been the red ribbon strung from that first coat of skins in the Garden of Eden down through the ... four hundred silent years, through the genealogies of the first chapter of Matthew.  Crimson blossoms bright in the holy moment of the cross.”

Holy indeed!  Dr. Allen was quite right.  Jesus, as the Sacrificial Lamb of God, was born to die.  And one can almost see the reflection of the star of Bethlehem glistening in the crimson blood of Calvary.  Amen!  Praise God for all that Christmas set in motion, and for all that Easter brought to completion!
 
 
Yesterday, in our morning services, I spoke on the “Star of Bethlehem” from Matthew chapter 2.  The wise men from the east were joyful when they saw the star; but they actually worshipped the baby Jesus.  Wow!  The latter supercedes the fomer!  Christmas must be about more than just having a good feeling. 

Our morning services were then followed by our annual Christmas luncheon for Widows and Widowers, sponsored by our Deacon’s ministry.

As a part of my luncheon devotional, I referenced my wife’s love for classic Christmas programming.  Being Baby-Boomers, she and I both grew up watching such standards as "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer", "Frosty the Snowman", and of course, "A Charlie Brown Christmas".

One syndicated cartoon that was not produced in the form of a holiday television classic, however, was Bill Keane’s comic strip, "Family Circus".

That is regrettable, as so many times, he was able to communicate the most fundamental of truths in the simplest of ways.  He did this by either showing what the various members of his cast of characters were thinking, or else having them speak. 

A perfect example is the little clipping contained in my files – one that encapsulates everything I was trying to communicate about Matthew chapter 2 yesterday morning.

In this particular cartoon, as the children are setting up their nativity set, little Dolly suddenly holds up the baby Jesus, and declares, “Here’s the star of Bethlehem!”  And there you have it.  Without Christ, there is no Christmas.  There is no one to worship.  And thus, there is no real joy.

Make certain to include Christ in your Christmas this year.  Remember, He really is the reason for the season.  Without Him, your Christmas will be incomplete.
 
A SIGN UNTO YOU 12/08/2011
 
Most of us are familiar with those cute little sayings so often seen on Church billboards, such as: "7 days without God makes one weak."  Recently, my mother-in-law sent me a list of witty signs.  I thought I would share a few of them with you today. 

The following are purported to be actual signs seen posted in today’s world…

In a Podiatrist's Office:
"Time wounds all heels."
**************************
On a Plumber's  Truck:
"We repair what your husband fixed."
**************************
At a Tire Store:
"Invite us to your next blowout."
**************************
In a Non-Smoking Area:
"If we see smoke, we will assume that
you are on fire and take appropriate action."
**************************
At an Optometrist's Office:
"If you don't see what you're looking for,
then you've come to the right place."
**************************
On a Taxidermist's window:
"We really know our stuff."
**************************
On a Homeowner’s Fence:
"Salesmen welcome! Dog food is expensive!"
**************************
At a Car Dealership:
"The best way to get back on your feet
is to miss a car payment."
**************************
Outside a Car Exhaust Store:
"No appointment necessary. We hear you coming."
**************************
In a Veterinarian’s Waiting Room:
"Be back in 5 minutes. Sit! Stay!"
**************************
In a Restaurant Window:
"Don't stand there and be hungry;
come on in and get fed up."
**************************
In the Front Yard of a Funeral Home:
"Drive carefully. We'll wait."
**************************

Okay.  The last one may have pushed the envelope just a bit.  But you do have to appreciate the humor involved.

Signs, you see, are actually a part of our everyday life.  They are commonplace.  So much so that they tend to go unnoticed.  Thus, advertisers look for creative ways to help a client stand out and get noticed.  Hence the effectiveness of these simple but humorous signs.

I find it interesting that when Jesus came to be born into this world, He did so in the midst of the hustle and bustle of everyday life.  It would have been so easy for this tremendous event to have been overlooked by the people of that busy time. 

Therefore, God sent His angel to a group of shepherds, the most ordinary of people in that day, and had him announce to them that they would see a “sign” that would show them just Who the Savior was. 

Luke 2:10-12 records the angel’s words:  "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.  Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.  This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

What?! A babe, lying in a manger!  Mangers are troughs, long low open containers from which livestock eat.  Who puts newborn babies in mangers?  The mere thought is incongruous.  The absurdity of the notion makes it almost humorous.  Thus, it immediately grabs our attention and holds it.  It demands that we pause and consider what we have just encountered.

Of course, the answer to the question, “Who puts newborn babies in mangers?” is none other than God Himself.  And He does it for the very reasons I have stated above.  He wants to grab our attention, and to hold it.  He wants us to pause and reflect and consider the significance of what we have just encountered.

And well we should.  Because we will never encounter any greater paradox than this:  that God chose to incarnate Himself.  That He chose to come to the very people He had created and who had in turn sinned against Him, and to become one of them and to dwell among them.  And that He did this in order to show them just Who God is, and just what God wants; and ultimately to offer Himself as a sacrifice for the atonement of their sins against Him.  In short, He had come to forgive them.  To offer them mercy and thus life.

That, my friends, is the single greatest truth ever imparted to this world.  Certainly, that, above all else, is worthy of a sign.  And it is also worthy of your attention, your reflection, your consideration. 

I hope that, like the shepherds of that first Christmas, you will take time to investigate this great matter (Luke 2:15) for yourself.  If you do, I am confident that you too will come away from Christmas “glorifying and praising God” for all the things that you, like they, will have heard and seen.