New Year Devotion: How Do You Respond to Christ’s Birth?

As a new year begins, we instinctively take stock of time past and time ahead. Threshold moments like this invite reflection on what has been given, where it has come from, and how we have responded. Scripture itself invites us into that same consideration by drawing our attention to the timing, the place, and the response surrounding God’s greatest gift. In doing so, it presses us not toward sentimentality, but toward honest reassessment before God as we enter another year under His rule.

Broken Wharfe Editorial

Have you ever noticed how much attention is given to the time, place and response in the giving and receiving of gifts? It’s true whenever people exchange gifts, but at certain times of the year it really stands out.

Ponder the timing of a gift, for example. Rarely do we offer gifts on random occasions. The place from which the gift comes matters too, whether from somewhere well known or far-off. “Where did you get this?” may be an astonished question heard during a season of gift-giving. Finally, there’s the response. When we give and receive gifts, we often focus on the reaction, don’t we? If it’s a good gift, the kids shout with delight. If it’s not so great, we manage a polite, “Oh, that’s interesting—thank you very much.”.

Paul touches this same pattern of timing, place and response in Galatians 4:4–6. “When the right time came, God sent His Son.” There’s the timing. The gift’s source? “God sent His Son, born of a woman, subject to the law, to redeem those under the law.” And the response to this gift? Because we are His children, “God has sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba, Father!’” Timing, place and response are there, even in the gospel itself.

Following Luke’s lead, consider those same three themes: the timing, the place and the response to Christ’s birth.

 

The Timing of Christ’s Birth

Luke tells us it happened “when Augustus was emperor.” That’s significant. The Roman Empire was at its height. “A decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered.” The phrase “all the world” doesn’t mean the entire planet. It refers to the Roman world, vast and powerful, the dominant force of its day.

Augustus had united this fractured empire after years of civil war. He defeated Antony and Cleopatra, ending a prolonged period of bloodshed, and established a single rule. For the first time, Rome experienced a level of peace unlike anything known before. There was taxation, governors, an organised army, and the beginnings of central administration. Roads, couriers and systems of communication were put in place. Rome had done its very best to establish lasting order.

So why this history lesson? Because at the very moment Rome reached its greatest strength and peace, God chose to establish his true kingdom. Daniel had prophesied it centuries earlier: “In the days of those kings, the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that will never be destroyed.” It is almost as if God waited until the world had done its very best to build lasting peace, only to show what real peace truly looks like.

How often do we build our own little kingdoms, religious or otherwise, thinking we’re self-sufficient? We might believe, “I’ve made it this far on my own. Who needs God?” Or even as professing Christians, we sometimes act as if our efforts help God out a bit. Perhaps, just like Rome, it is precisely in those moments that God steps in, not to congratulate us, but to overthrow our little empires and show that his rule alone stands.

We might come thinking we have something to offer, but God has chosen to use moments like this to dismantle our self-rule and expand his own rule in our hearts. That is grace. And we can come to him praying, “Lord, I build these little fortresses of pride. Tear them down. Drive out my self-dependence and enlarge the borders of your kingdom within me.”

 

The Place of Christ’s Birth

Now notice the place. “Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem.”

Though Bethlehem was well known in Jewish history, it remained small, quiet and unimpressive. King David’s birthplace wasn’t a palace; it was the hill country, obscure and ordinary.

Bethlehem was insignificant to the world, but chosen by God, as Micah foretold. “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are little among the clans of Judah, yet out of you shall come forth to Me the One to be Ruler in Israel.” God delights to work through the small, the hidden, and the unimpressive. He has not changed. Do you know where Elstow is? Many do not. Yet it was John Bunyan’s birthplace. Another small place, with lasting impact.

This truth has the remarkable ability to humble the proud and lift the lowly. We may ask, “What can I offer God?” and turn our very real inadequacies into an excuse not to serve, but that kind of false humility is simply pride in disguise. God reminds us that small does not mean insignificant.

Christ’s birth in Bethlehem also exposes the quiet arrogance that assumes God is most at work where we are most visible or influential. Heaven is not impressed by size, reputation or resources, but by hearts bowed before a King who chose obscurity. Bethlehem stands as a rebuke to any believer or church tempted to believe its own publicity, whispering that God is perfectly willing to bypass the centre stage and carry on his greatest work out on the margins. So we confess our inadequate lives, and then place them before God and say, “Lord, here they are. Use them as you see fit.”

 

The Indifferent Response to Christ’s Birth

Finally, consider the response. There was no royal welcome, no recognition, no celebration. “There was no room for Him.”

The danger remains. We may not reject Christ outright, we simply relegate him to where the animals live. He is tolerated, but only so far. He is given space, but only where he remains unobtrusive. The reality is that he must inhabit every room. He must have free access to our thoughts, our decisions, our work, our relationships and our plans for the future. When we crowd him out, we rob ourselves of joy.

The answer is simple. Make room, for Christ desires to abide with his people. We must make space for him and respond, “Let every heart prepare Him room.”

 

The Shepherds’ Lessons

Luke then moves to the shepherds, and their story teaches us vital lessons.

First, though the world was indifferent to Christ, heaven was not. The world ignored him, but heaven could not help but erupt in praise. The angels’ song is heaven’s response to the birth that earth failed to notice.

Second, awe and reverence for the God of the Scriptures is necessary if one is to receive by saving faith the news that Christ has been born. The shepherds had to fear before they could truly believe. There is an order God often uses. It is what we might call an experiential logic of salvation. Not everyone’s experience is identical, but the pattern is there: conviction before comfort, fear before faith. Many today feel little need for Christ because they have never glimpsed the majesty of God. Without awe, the gospel is a stumbling block and foolishness. The shepherds trembled before they rejoiced. “The glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were greatly afraid.” That reverence made their joy for Christ real.

What do we do with all this? Luke gives us five responses, quick but essential:

1. Remember who the angels appeared to. Not priests or nobles, but shepherds who were ordinary men, poor and unclean. If God revealed himself to them, he will reveal himself to any who seek him.

2. Make haste. As soon as the angels left, the shepherds said, “Let us now go to Bethlehem.” Not later. Not someday. But now! They hurried into Christ’s presence. Let that urgency mark us, too.

3. Make it known. After they saw him, they made widely known the saying which was told them concerning this Child. Having encountered Christ, they could not keep silent. This lies at the heart of the Christian life, whether in church life, service, missions or preaching. Andrew Bonar once confessed his own lack of this in his preaching when he said, “[I] have been struck at noticing how often…in going forth to preach, I was like one seeking his own entrance into the holy place and fellowship with God; not like one coming out from enjoying communion to speak to others.” Notice, however, he did not cease striving to make Christ known.

4. Keep and treasure these things. Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart. She guarded and meditated on what she had heard and experienced. In a world full of noise, we must do the same.

5. Glorify and praise God. The shepherds returned glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, just as it was told to them—without embellishment, trimming or distortion. They simply declared clearly, faithfully, and with joy what God had revealed.

At the beginning of a new year, these responses still stand. God has spoken. Christ has been born. The question that remains is not whether the gift has been given, but how we will respond.

 

Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion,

perfumes of Edom, and offerings divine,

gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean,

myrrh from the forest or gold from the mine?

 

Vainly we offer each ample oblation,

vainly with gifts would His favour secure;

richer by far is the heart’s adoration,

dearer to God are the prayers of the poor.