Christmas Musings by Elmira O. Davis

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Dec 31, 1872

Christmas Musings.

By Elmira O. Davis

It is Christmas Eve, grand festal time of earth and Heaven! What thrilling associations cluster around thy hallowed name, Redeemer! By these, our minds are borne back over the stream of time, when, near two thousand years ago, a band of humble, weary travelers, on their way to Judea’s city, at night-fall, seek for rest and shelter at a wayside inn. Of humble mien and lowly garb, they stand. There is no admittance there; the couch of luxury and sumptuous feast were not prepared for such as these. Heart-sick, they turn to a poor stable, and with the patient, toil-worn oxen, share a bed of straw, and find repose the world refused to give.

It is often thus in this world’s journeyings; her lowly ones are overlooked, the goal is reached and the prize secured by the lofty and the proud. Why is it thus? my murmuring heart oft questions, why? Peace, troubled soul, be still, and bow in meek submission to his will who holds the balances, who weighs, not pomp and show, but moral worth; not strength of sinew, but the power of living faith; he will not leave his chosen to reproach.

Shepherds, while watching with their flocks upon the plains of Bethlehem, are startled from their midnight musings by loud, swelling notes of heavenly music. Lo! a multitude of holy angels suddenly appear to their astonished vision, singing, Glory, glory be to God on high, and on earth, peace, good will to men. The eastern magi, who so long had watched to catch the first faint glimmer of the glorious star of prophecy, behold with joy its earliest beams, and follow its mild radiance till they find the full-orbed Sun of righteousness.

In Bethlehem’s manger, nestles now a little form, perfect embodiment of God’s boundless love, combining all the fullness of the Deity with weak and frail humanity. Holy bards and prophets had desired to feast their eyes upon this wondrous light, but, worn with watching long, they fell asleep before the day-star rose.

Angels guide the shepherds, and the sages follow Bethlehem’s star, till here they meet and pour their treasures at the Saviour’s feet. The cold, dark stable, all aglow with heavenly light, a fit reception room becomes for guests like these. Now he accepts for us an earthly destiny of toil, of weariness, and pain, to work for us in human guise, and open up for all lost Adam’s race a way to everlasting life.

Yes, he has come, the world’s Redeemer. Adam saw the future Conqueror, through the embryo promise, with his foot upon the tyrant’s head. As Abel offers up his typic lamb, he sees the Lamb of God, from earth’s foundation, slain, to take our sins away. Job, too, amid all his trouble, views this hope, an anchor cast within the vail, and cries, “I know that my Redeemer liveth.” Solomon sees his grace and beauty flourish, as the rose of Sharon and the lily of the valley; and, as the apple tree among the trees, is my Beloved among the sons, he chants again in his sweet song. He, chief among ten thousand, is the bright and morning star—the crucified of Calvary, an outcast and alone.

His life of sacrifice and toil, we know; and oft his love we prove by rich experience in his grace. But, ah! the world receive him not. With locks all dripping with the midnight dews, he knocks; but no response. Poorer than birds and foxes are, he has not where to lay his aching head. In the worn form of many a humble follower, has he passed in and out among us; but we have not discerned our Lord. In other lands, among other hearts, he seeks the resting place we failed to yield him here. And other hands will bathe his way-worn feet, and pour the sweet perfume upon his head. Shall they receive the benediction he designed for us? “As ye have done unto the least of these, ye have done it unto me.”

Let us come up on high and holy ground, and, like the waiting shepherds, listen to those angel melodies, till anthems, loud and full, shall, ringing through the ages, come; and we, breathing their inspiration deep, may help to swell the lofty strain, till Heaven shall echo forth her song of praise and glory to our God, and earth give back the sweet refrain of Peace on earth, good will to men. ELMIRA O. DAVIS.