We spent a very nice Easter Sunday yesterday. We slept in ~ which is a rarity for us on Sundays ~ and went to the later service at church. That was nice, in itself, as it wasn’t as crowded as the second service is. The music was beautiful, of course, and everyone dressed in their spring-y loveliness.
I was thinking today, listening to the music, of how different Easter is ~ as a Christian celebration ~ from Christmas. Christmas music is often reverent and solemn, while much of Easter’s music is triumphant and celebratory.
There was one Christmas song in particular that I was thinking about today. A sweet and quiet melody that I think was written by Chris Rice, although it’s most well known by Amy Grant. It’s called “Welcome to Our World”, and though the lyrics are about Christ’s birth, they are poignant in light of His crucifixion.
Hope that You don’t mind our manger
How I wish we would have known
But long-awaited Holy Stranger
Make Yourself at home
Make Himself at home, He did. For thirty-three years He lived on this earth… eating, drinking, celebrating, working, loving and being loved. And it was all for a greater good. All for the greatest good, really.
Bring Your peace into our violence
Bid our hungry souls be filled
Word now breaking Heaven’s silence
Welcome to our world
That peace is still a gift to us, promised in Philippians 4. And He is still the answer to the hunger in our souls.
Fragile finger sent to heal us
Tender brow prepared for thorn
Tiny heart whose blood will save us
Unto us is born.
So wrap our injured flesh around You
Breathe our air and walk our sod.
Rob our sin and make us holy
Perfect Son of God.
Indeed. When I hear the song at Christmas, that line, “wrap our injured flesh around you” makes me think of His swaddling cloths. But at Easter, I think about His injured flesh.
Easter is a celebration of His resurrection; of His life from death, and our new life because of His death. But that sacrifice was made possible by His life here on earth, which we celebrate at Christmas.
He is the greatest gift of all.
~ “He is not here; for He is risen, as He said.” ~
Light Expectations 