A three-year-old little girl died today. Her name was Hala Abu Sebakha. She died because Israel launched an airstrike in Gaza, because a Palestinian sniper from Gaza shot an Israeli who was doing maintenance on the border fence, because the Israelis did this…because the Palestinians did that…because…because…because…
Hala, or هالة, means aura or glory in Arabic.
“In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.’”
Meanwhile, in America, we’re complaining about the postal service not delivering our packages on time, suffering road rage on the highways and aisle rage in the grocery stores, hoping we got the right gift or are going to get the right gift, because…because…because…
“For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
I don’t know what any of this means. I don’t have any profound answers here. But I know, I hope, I pray, that it has to mean something. And I know that it sure seems like an awful lot of our answers are wrong. When preparing for the celebration of the birth of the Prince of Peace leads to “culture wars”, or “price wars,” or mob riots and road rage, our answers are wrong.
When the death of a three-year-old little girl is “collateral damage”, our answers are wrong.
Lord Jesus Christ, come. Be our answer. Point us to the right questions. Come, Lord Jesus. Come.