

Olivia: Yeah, me too - it’d be great to spend Christmas just with my friends, not the whole family.įadi: Yeah, it’d be great to spend Christmas with you. Olivia: So, Fadi – what are you doing for Christmas?įadi: Nothing much – guess I’ll just be with my family. Olivia: Come on Tony! Even you must be happy about this! The café is staying open! Olivia: It’s still a bit early for Christmas presents. Olivia: Did someone say “present”? I love presents.įadi: I just mean the café staying open – and your shop, of course - it’s like an early Christmas present! Our salvation has been announced.Fadi: What a fantastic Christmas present! My friends, on this miraculous night, the message I want to leave with you is so simple: Listen. I never heard what had happened, or the real story about that Christmas, until after my parents had died.īut I’ll always remember that my uncle did more than hear a need. The salesman who lost his job was my father. That Christmas happened over 40 years ago. It happened because when he heard someone in need, he listened. He drove down with his family and he helped create Christmas that year – the tree, the dinner, gifts, the spirit, the memories that would last a lifetime. But she swallowed her pride, and called her brother in another state and asked if there was anything he could do. How would they celebrate Christmas? She was also a very proud woman, and hated to ask for any kind of help. His wife was beside herself with worry, and didn’t know what they would tell the kids. The man was a salesman with two young children.

It’s a story we’re hearing a lot these days. Not long ago, I heard the story of a man who had lost his job right before Christmas.

#THANKS FOR LISTENING CHRISTMAS FULL#
It is also there in the silence, when the one who used to share your life and your home is no longer there, and you find your heart full of sorrow and longing and memory – and into that, unexpectedly, comes Christmas. It comes on Christmas Eve, when a recovering alcoholic walks by a bar, and hears the laughter inside – but keeps on walking. A soft voice that a soldier hears on the other end of a telephone line, a voice that says “I miss you.” The laughter of loved ones around the table. It comes to us with the clang of bells, a blare of trumpets. It comes to us with angels singing and a baby crying. Think of how Christmas comes to us – if only we listen for it. The news all of humanity has been listening for. This is the news we have been waiting for. Or as Isaiah puts it so beautifully: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” “The grace of God has appeared,” Paul writes. That He has come into our lives, and into our world. To listen for His good news.Īnd what good news it is: that God is with us! That we are no longer alone. But are we paying attention? Are we listening? Two thousand years later, we confront this stunning message – “tidings of comfort and joy,” as the carol describes it – and our hearts swell with the sentiment of the season. In the passage immediately following this, they go out and tell the world what they have seen. The shepherds listen when the angel announces the “good news of great joy.” When the angel tells Joseph in his dreams what is about to happen…he listens. When Gabriel arrives to bring Mary the news that she will bear a child…she listens. So much of the Christmas story is, truly, about listening. That wonderful answer popped into my mind as I read over this gospel that we just heard, the greatest beginning of the greatest story ever told. What do you hope God will say to you when you finally see Him?Īnd Spielberg thought for a moment and smiled. It can make for an interesting examination of conscience.Īnyway: on this episode, the person James Lipton was interviewing was Steven Spielberg. It’s a good question, by the way, to ask ourselves periodically.
