Jesus answered and said unto them, This is the work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent. — John 6:29
Believe. It’s a word that gets tossed around a lot this time of year. Sometimes it captions a picture of a jolly Santa and a charming child. Other times it stands alone, a solitary word on a cup or a sweatshirt or a holiday pillow: Believe.
But in what? Ah, that’s not always clear. In Santa Claus? In the Spirit of Christmas? In the Incarnation?
For my birthday a few months ago, my friend Desila gave me a rhinestone pin that proclaims, in sparkly stick letters, Believe. As I pinned it on my coat at the beginning of Advent, I didn’t even have to think about what it meant to me.
I am what my grandmother would have called “a believer.” And she wasn’t talking about men in red suits or a vague feeling of goodwill. To her, a believer was someone who accepted the whole Christmas story just the way the Holy Spirit dictated it to the Gospel writers. Angels, shepherds, wise men, smelly farm animals and an improvised crib made of rough planks and hay.
I think Grandma was onto something. Why play fill-in-the-blank with a verb as important as believe?
Thank goodness God is not only generous and loving, but also direct. Hey, pay attention! I’m sending a Savior. Looking for something to give your life meaning? Seeking joy and peace? Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and you will be saved. From your sin—and yourself. Yes, ’tis the season to believe.
Thank God! I believe. I believe. I believe.
