Our family returns to a few favorite Christmas movies every year. So far we’ve watched It’s a Wonderful Life and Christmas Vacation. But my favorite Christmas story turned into a movie is A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.

Such a great scene when Mr. Scrooge awakes from his dreams and realizes that he has not missed Christmas morning! As Scrooge begins to make things right after years of disregard for his fellow man, we watch the good one person can do for another.

In Dickens’ view legitimate faith moves us to aid those less fortunate. The selfishness of Marley doomed him to an afterlife chained to his money box, but Scrooge got a second chance at an eternity contoured by generosity toward his community.

No one is useless in this world who lightens the burden of another.

Charles Dickens

Jesus took us to a similar place when he taught the crowds to do unto others as you would have them do to you, and to love your neighbor as yourself. Generosity knows no season—it never fades nor wears out.

Lighten the burden of another this holiday and you’ll be putting the words of Dickens, which he borrowed from Jesus, into good practice.

The first people to whom God chose to announce the birth of his son were shepherds. Not kings. Not wealthy businessmen. Not princesses or priests. Not an influencer in the bunch. Just backwater, smelly shepherds.

Blue collar, these herders possessed neither power or education. They lived away from polite society. They had nothing to give Jesus—which is perhaps the point.

Of the lessons we draw from Luke’s telling of Christ’s birth, the most compelling to me is the reminder that everyone, even the lowliest in my estimation, remains valuable to God, including wild-eyed shepherds.

The Lord chose to first announce the greatest birth in all history, the birth of our Savior, to people on the bottom rung of society. Something to ponder during my hectic rush of preparation and consumption throughout the holidays.

Luke 2 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2022

Photo by Mohamad Babayan

The ancients watched the stars far more than I do, and they possessed more knowledge of the heavens than we tend to credit.

Job described the Lord in celestial terms: He stretches out the north over the void and hangs the earth on nothing.

Our Creator hung the earth as easily as I hang a picture on the wall. Or as easily as I toss a ball in the air, except the ball doesn’t fall but hangs suspended. Then the Lord maintains the earth’s location and spin and tilt and precise distance from the sun, making this orb the perfect place for life to flourish.

Our lives in particular.

As the Lord orchestrated this heavenly symphony, he added a movement to appear later in the performance. A couple thousand years after Job, a brilliant star emerged. Astronomers from the east —wise men—took notice and followed.

They discovered a newly born king, dangling near poverty, suspended in the mid-air of religion and politics and power, waiting for his time to make lives flourish.

Our lives in particular.

One night this next week the sky will clear and the stars shine bright. Look up with me and take notice. Pay attention to the details of the heavens, remembering the Lord who hung this earth and placed our Savior here among us.

Job 26 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2022

Photo by NASA

I find it easy to kill time flipping through channels or scrolling through my news feed. In my boredom or exhaustion I escape, looking for brainless stimulation to bounce around in my head.

I know there are better options, if I could only rouse myself to them.

When in this mindset David’s words are an encouragement to me: I will not set my eyes before anything that is worthless.

It’s like David curated multiple social media accounts. Why waste time tic-toking or twittering when all the great literature of the world waits at my fingertips? Why watch cat videos when I can access the best films ever produced?

I know why. Worthless screen distractions are eye-catching and entertaining. They pop-up endlessly. They take no work. I’m rewarded with an instant shot of pleasure, a sugar rush for my psyche.

The psalmist prayed, Lord, turn my eyes from worthless things (Psalm 119:37). Such a good prayer in this era in which we live. My time is more valuable than I understand, my mind more malleable.

That’s one of my prayers for the coming year—to turn from the worthless toward the good and valuable and excellent things the Lord put into this world for me to enjoy.

Psalm 101 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2021

Photo by Glenn Carstens-Peters