Articles
Dec 21, 1997 - 4 MIN READ

O Little Town of 'Where I Am'

Dave Faust

My wife Candy works the night shift as a Registered Nurse in the mother-baby unit of a local hospital. We were disappointed to learn that one of her 12-hour shifts this week will start at 7:00 P.M. on Christmas Eve. But as our family adjusted plans to accommodate her schedule, we realized there was something fitting about this. After all, the angels announced Jesus' birth to shepherds working the night shift. Joseph and Mary adjusted their schedules and travel plans to meet the requirements of an imperial decree. And what more appropriate place to spend the night on Christmas Eve than a maternity ward surrounded by newborn babies?

Despite the warm feelings we associate with Christmas, Jesus' real-life birth wasn't glamorous. It wasn't a myth or a fairy tale. God's Son came to earth amid real history and surrounded by real human problems: Joseph's consideration of divorce. Mary's labor pains. Inadequate accommodations at an overcrowded inn. No modern hospitals. No obstetricians or RNs. No glassed-in nursery for convenient family viewing. A simple manger to cradle him. Plain strips of cloth to warm him.

And what a strange birthing celebration in the fields near Bethlehem. Angels praised God saying, "Glory to God in the highest," yet they appeared to some of humanity's "lowest"—ordinary shepherds. God is high and holy, and his ways are higher than our ways; but in Christ he came near to the humble, the ordinary, the people like us.

Not too distant to relate to us nor too aloof to understand us, the virgin-born Son of God is "Immanuel"—"God with us" (Isaiah 7:14; Matthew 1:22, 23). Though his birth happened long ago in Bethlehem, he understands where we are right now.

Consider Revelation 2:13, where Jesus told the church in Pergamum, "I know where you live." First-century Pergamum was a difficult place for believers—a center of idol worship with a giant altar where people offered sacrifices to Zeus and honored a god called Asklepios whose emblem was a serpent. Even some members of the church were getting caught up in false teachings (Revelation 2:14-16). But the Lord knew exactly what was going on. He said, "I know where you live—where Satan has his throne." "Yet," Jesus reassured the faithful, "you remain true to my name."

No matter where we live—no matter what our circumstances this Christmas—the Lord knows where we are, and he wants us to remain true to his name.

He knows where we are physically, whether we live in a crowded apartment building or a remote cabin, a suburban home or a grass hut. Even if we're physically ill or separated from our loved ones by many miles, he is with us. "Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? . . . if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me" (Psalm 139:7, 9, 10).

He knows where we are emotionally. If the holidays make us feel joyful or sad or melancholy or regretful, the Lord cares and understands.

And he knows where we are spiritually. Struggling? He gives strength to do right in a complex world where Satan still tries to rule. Slipping? God's power can sustain us through times of discouragement and doubt. Seeking? His Word is like a road sign that points the way back home.

Phillips Brooks wrote, "O holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us, we pray. Cast out our sin and enter in, be born in us today." Does Bethlehem seem far away? The Lord knows exactly where you are. And Christmas means you don't have to be there alone.

This column first appeared in The Lookout on Dec 21, 1997.

© Dave Faust 1970