It was a hot August day in 1998. I drove on a blue and silver tourist bus with my BYU Jerusalem class out to Bethlehem where we had a chance to visit the Church of the Nativity. My instructor warned us before we went into the dark and rank church not to focus so much on what we were experiencing, but try to think about the events that we were honoring that day. Gold plated lanterns with matching draping-chains covered the walls on the ground floor. Incense drowned out the smell of old must as we descended into “the exact spot that Jesus Christ was born,” where an elaborate gold 12-spiked start strewn across the rock floor. Everything about this place was dark. Dark walls, dark stone, and dark chanting from other religious believers.
It was literally a breathe of fresh air when we left the church to visit Shepherd’s Field, where modern day shepherds play the ancient role from the nativity to watch their flocks. Huge boulders and small rocks dot the landscape on this dry and mountain/valley terrain. Bethlehem sits on a hill adjacent to the one we are on, and the true spirit of Christmas transcends space and time as we imagine the angelic visitors who declared Christ’s birth.
“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.” Luke 2: 13-14
After a short devotional, we are given time to write in our journals. So I take my paper and pen and pull up a stone. Grateful for the small flashlight I brought, because the sun set and all we have above me is an ancient blanket of stars. If I gaze hard enough I can see divinity in my mind’s eye. It was the new star which marked the place for Christ’s birth, of which guided the Wise Men to find Mary and Joseph.
The melodies of Silent Night dance on the air, thanks to a student who gifted her talent of playing the violin to us. The spirit stirs up feelings of gratitude for this place, for our moment here, and the record found in the Bible of this spot, the city set on a hill, the city of David, where it was long foretold that Jesus Christ would be born. His celebratory birth preluded his great suffering, not just for me, but for all mankind, as he lived, taught, organized and atoned for us all.
I imagine myself in those heavenly choirs with loved ones, as one of millions, who stood valiantly singing in celebration. We rejoiced at the Savior’s birth, because all of our eternity rested on his shoulders, to save the world from sin.
“Hark! the herald angels sing, Glory to the newborn King!
Angels offered warning, counsel, guidance, protection, ministry and music throughout the Savior’s life. Angels beckoned Mary to follow God’s word in becoming a mother, Joseph heeded their counsel to provide and protect his betrothed. It was an angel of the Lord that testified to the lowliest of society, even the shepherds to come honor and give glory to the baby Jesus; as well, angels warned Joseph of danger and guided his small family to Egypt prior to Herod’s baby blood bath.
Fast forward thousands of years. We now enjoy the modern convenience of technology, clean running water, easy transportation, and quick cooking. Yet, none of us are able to escape the need for that baby, born in a stable, because there was no room in the inn.
Particularly this year, as our family as experienced our own condescension into a the world of strain and adversity. Just as the angels in Christ’s day offered hope, sustenance and glory to Jesus Christ throughout his life, we too have been blessed with angel’s errand, both physical and spiritual. Because of the great gifts of kindness, service and love we have received this year as a result of Jonny’s brain tumor, surgery and recovery, we could not let the season go by without offering our sincerest gratitude to our friends.
The day of Jonny’s surgery brought great relief, that the tumor was successfully removed, but also great turmoil and distress at the long recovery ahead. Angels beckoned the errand of the Father, and were sent to be by our side. I could sense generations of parents, from both of our families ministering to us. As the hospital quieted down at night and all I could hear was rhythmic breathing and heart monitors, I knew Jonny’s room was filled with warriors and ministers.
Since that time in August, we have continued to experience the errand of angels from neighbors, friends and family as we have been lifted in our daily life. I could record pages of service that we have received as a family, some small and simple, others acts of great scope and miracles. For each word of kindness, hot meal, errand, and help we are so grateful.
I am grateful for our children, who are growing and learning. Anna has enjoyed being in high school, and just finished her first musical as a freshman. Brennan loves 6th grade at middle school, including playing clarinet and participating in scouts. Allyson is a joy. As a second grader she is loving taking swim and piano and plans to get baptized this winter. Ben just turned four, he is all boy; he loves cars, tools, and wrestling. I am hoping that as they grow and have their own families that they will recognize the miracles of this year, and the angels who have helped us on our journey.
We love you, and are grateful for your love and friendship, and we hope that this coming year brings the blessing of angels in your life.
