Erma Bombeck said, The worst thing in the world is to wake up on Christmas morning and not be a child.

She was so right.

I will never forget walking down our street in suburban New Orleans at Christmastime holding the hand of my three-year-old grandson.  Grant stayed with us each weekday while his mother worked for a federal judge downtown and his dad, our son Neil, taught school.

Our street was only one block long, a cul de sac, so it was a great place to walk with a child.  Grant was enthralled by all the yard decorations for Christmas, particularly the images of Mary and Joseph and the Christ Child.

Sometimes Grant would pause in front of a house where he was fascinated by the yard display.  “Grandpa,” he would say, “Can I touch it?”

“Sure.” And we would walk into the yard.  Very tenderly this child would reach out and with one finger touch the Baby Jesus. He was enchanted.

To you and me, he was touching plastic.  To him, it was something holy.

The mind of a child is a precious thing.

I tear up at the thought.

I’d like to be a child again at Christmas, wouldn’t you?  So, let’s do that.

Let’s decide to become children for a few minutes and do something childlike.  Let’s look at the figures in the Christmas story and let’s touch them.  Let’s think about them, reflect on what they were doing, and consider what it meant to them.

There is a line famous among Bible believers: God said it.  I believe it.  That settles it. 

It’s wrong, of course.

It’s bad wrong.

They’re leaving out one huge step.

God said it, yes.  I believe it, absolutely.  But before that settles down into my fixed doctrine, the Lord wants us to ponder this in our hearts. To think about it. Reflect on it. To ask questions, absorb it, analyze it.

Mary did this.  After the visit of the shepherds in the stable, after they told her of the visitation of the angels, we read: Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart. (Luke 2:19)

That’s what all of us who love Jesus and believe in God’s Word should be doing. Pondering these things.

Sometimes the Greek is of help.  The word “ponder” in Luke 2:19 is sumballo.  It’s from sum meaning “together” and ballo meaning “to throw.”  To throw together.  A mother goes into the kitchen and quickly brings out a meal which she says she just “threw together.”  But the idea here is of taking one thing and comparing it to something else. In this case, Mary took what Gabriel had said to her (Luke 1) and put it alongside what the shepherds said (Luke 2).

Let’s do a little pondering of our own.  The Old Testament calls it meditation.  (See Psalm 1:2). Let’s throw these facets of the Christmas story together with our own minds, hearts, memories, thoughts, nature, and see what we come up with.

THE QUESTIONS WE WANT TO ASK…

Pick up the various elements in the Christmas story and ponder them.  Ask questions about the people. Analyze their motives.  Admire them or not, depending.

But what we must not do is simply read the story in the Word and walk away, saying to ourselves “I read it and I believe it and that’s enough.”  It is not enough.

Mary and Joseph.

I wonder how the family reacted when their young adults broke this news to them?  I wonder what kind of training/education Mary and Joseph had received growing up?  In a book on the Psalms, the authors say they are convinced Jesus had memorized the entire psaltery (that is all 150 Psalms!).  Did they do that?

And when they traveled to Bethlehem for the census, did they hear protests from the family? (“Son, you are aware that she’s heavy with child? And you’re traveling a long way!”)  And I wonder how much Mary and Joseph discussed these things, particularly after the Baby arrived? So many things.

Herod and his theologians.

I wonder about this madman.  As soon as he got news a group of foreigners were searching for a baby “born king of the Jews,” all his protective reflexes went into overdrive.  This man who murdered family members was paranoid if not insane. And yet, he keeps a stable of theologians to advise him. And what theologians they were! They correctly announced where the Messiah was to be born (Micah 5:2 said “Bethlehem”), but then after telling Herod, why didn’t they make the short journey down the road to check out this most amazing birth?  As far as we know, none did. I truly find this amazing.

The magi (aka, “the wise men”)

We can think of a thousand questions about the magi: who were they? where were they from?  how did they come to make this journey?  what experiences did they have along the way?  why did they bring those particular gifts?  and the big one, to me at least: When they got home, how did they explain this trip to their wives????

The shepherds of Bethlehem

How many were they?  What were they talking about just before their world lit up? What was this like?  And after a year or two went by, did they ever talk about it?  Ten years, twenty?  Maybe thirty years, and still no word of a Messiah being born. What were they to make of this amazing announcement from Heaven? They saw it, right?  Or was this treated the way people today do the two men from the Mississippi Gulf Coast who insist that some years back they were taken aboard a UFO and saw some aliens?  But then, after Jesus began preaching and working miracles, did they say, “I tried to tell you”?

The angels that announced Jesus’ birth

This is one of my favorite ponderings.  What I wonder is did the angels rehearse for this concert?  And when they presented it, were they disappointed that their audience was only a handful of shepherds who presumably did not know one note from another? And when they went back to Heaven, were they disappointed?  Or was this all in a day’s work for these celestial servants?  I’ve love to know more.

So, we’ll stop here.

We cannot be a child again, but in our heart of hearts, we will forever be a child.  As I sit here, I am in my 87th year (translation: I turned 86 four months ago). I look it and often feel it.  But the strangest thing is that inside, the child that was Joe McKeever all those years ago is still there, still present, and still inquiring.  There is so much I want to know.

“Father, teach me.  Help me to be teachable.  Thank you.”