If I Had Not Come

Author Unknown

Once upon a time, not very long ago, a good bishop settled back in his easy chair beside the blazing fireplace in his study. From the record player came the gentle strains of the choir, singing beautiful songs of the season. The man’s heart was filled with joy and a measure of contentment. Truly, he though, the world is a beautiful place to live.

Instinctively, he picked up his book of scripture. He read for a time until his eyelids became heavy. Sleep was almost upon him. But as the bishop listened to the notes of praise and leafed through his holy book, he came upon a phrase in the book of John he had scarcely noticed before.

"If I had not come..." the words began. As he read the phrase, sleep won its way and the bible fell into his lap. In the dream that soon enfolded him, the words echoed over and over, "If I had not come..."

Suddenly, in his world of slumbering fantasy, the full impact of that little-noticed phrase struck him. "If I had NOT come..."

There was a terrifying silence. Then, in his dream, he was carried down the sidewalks of the street he had walked so often toward the chapel where he conducted his regular church services. With astonishment, he found a vacant lot where the beautiful chapel had been.

Surely this was the right place. But the chapel was not there. And where were the spacious lawns, the flowers, the shrubs and trees.

The devastating thought flashed upon the good bishop that this was the world into which Christ had not come. He walked on down the street. Other buildings were missing, but not the jail. The jail was still there ... in all it ugliness. But the hospital, the home for the elderly, the seminary, the orphanage ... gone. All of them gone.

What a cold merciless world, he thought.

Dejectedly, he returned to his library. But little of the library was there. Gone was his beloved Bible, "The Life of Christ" and countless other books he had studied so often. Gone, too, was most of his poetry.

The record player was still there, but the record rack was near barren. Gone were the master works of Handel, Bach, Beethoven, Shubert and the others. The priceless recordings of the great choirs were no more.

It was as if some vandal had effaced every line in his books, every building, every note of music, every possible physical evidence that spoke of Christ or was inspired by Him.

Sitting down before the wreck of his library, the bishop realized the world was without such comforting text as "Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid...In my Father’s house are many mansions...I go to prepare a place for you...Because I live, ye shall live also..."

As the heavy burden bore down upon him until he thought he could bear no more, the bishop awoke to find this mythical world was all a terrible dream. In deliverance from the nightmare, he heard again the sweet, comforting music. Only a hideous nightmare, a horrible dream. But from it the bishop learned as never before to appreciate the gift given to mankind by the birth, ministry, and love and the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ. As never before, Jesus of Nazareth, the Babe of Bethlehem, became a reality.

The simple and fortunate truth is that each of us lives in a world into which Christ has come. The world with ornate chapels, spacious lawns, inspired literature and beautiful music.

So as we celebrate that sacred event which occurred more than 2,000 years ago in Bethlehem, let us also recognize what influence that event has had upon our world of today.

Christmas...may the season bring you true joy and happiness.