The Pregnant Promise | A Christmas Devotional

“And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth.”
— Luke 2:6

Here, in the physician’s Gospel, Luke, by eyewitness testimony, recounts the quiet moment upon which all history hangs. With this single sentence, heaven’s long-awaited hour: the time came. There is no trumpet sounding in the text here, no spectacle, no parade, no social-media blitz, simply the beginnings of birthing pains. And yet, all the promises of God begin to arrive in this very moment.

Under the reign of Caesar Augustus, a decree was issued that moved the world like pieces upon a chessboard. Unknowingly, Caesar became a servant of prophecy from the Almighty. The very decree he issued moved Joseph and the pregnant Mary to journey to Bethlehem, the city of David, the cradle for Christ which was appointed by God. There, in that little town too small to boast, the ancient Word was set to be birthed at last:

“But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah,
    who are too little to be among the clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
    one who is to be ruler in Israel,
whose coming forth is from of old,
    from ancient days.”

The clock of eternity, which had been ticking patiently, had now sounded its appointed chime.

This moment was not longed for by only Mary and Joseph, but it was the longing of prophets and many others, as the Apostle Peter tells us, they inquired and wondered at “the grace that was to be yours.” What they foresaw dimly, we behold clearly. What they greeted from afar, we embrace in the light. Indeed, the anticipation stretched far beyond the nine months of pregnancy, but across millennia. The world itself was heavy with hope from the instant the Lord God spoke: “He shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.” There, before the ruined man, with all heaven and earth as witnesses, the first gospel seed was planted. God swore by His own name that this promise would not fail.

Yet this given promise was strange, impossible even! Somehow, life would come from death.

The world’s womb was barren. It could only produce sin, and only deliver death. Still, Scripture, thought, directs our eyes to the barren wombs which blossom by divine grace: Sarah, Hannah, and Elizabeth. These women and their wombs were sermons preached in flesh and blood—living parables declaring that God delights to produce life from the jaws of death.

Though hope seemed shrouded by darkness, it grew. Like the unseen infant who grows in the dark womb of their mother, the hope of the Messiah grew from age to age. From Adam to Noah, from Noah to Abraham, who trusted our God “who gives life to the dead.” From Abraham to Moses, from Moses to David, and many more before us looked toward the horizon for the coming hope of Jesus.

Then, finally, when the fullness of time had come, heaven came low.

To the young virgin in Israel, Gabriel announced a hope that is too glorious to be of human invention, too marvelous for our speech, too great for our minds to muster, too glorious for our eyes to behold:

“Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.”

The promise himself had taken on our flesh, the infinite God had been born in the likeness of man. From the barrenness of the world’s womb came forth the very Creator of the world.

What sweeter words could encourage our hearts this Advent season than this:
“Unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”

Merry Christmas, and blessed Advent.