FRONT-PORCH GOSPEL: I love to tell the story
Welcome to 2025.
Christmas is past, but not really. If you’re like me, it sticks with you until well after July 4, or somewhere around there.
This time of year – whether before or after, officially – always brings us to the book of Luke, and a refreshing, faith-building look at the life of Jesus – from that original angelic declaration, “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour which is Christ the Lord” (2:11), to the glorious declaration over 30 years later by an angel outside a tomb near Jerusalem, “He is not here, but is risen!” (24:6)
His story – from the beginning that glorious holy night to the powerful grave-defying ending – is the greatest I’ve ever told.
There is none to compare.
It is impossible to tell it in a page or two, but I can at least introduce Him to you, just as Preacher Miller, Grandma, Mama, and many others introduced Him to me a long time ago. As we come to this time of the season, I know there are many people who need this story and the simple touch of this Friend more than any gift the world could afford.
This is one of the reasons I like to see a year wind down: During those wintry days of December, the world focuses on Jesus the Christ more than at any other time. The scenes and songs that fill the air are heartwarming, and the story of the babe born in a manger is inspiring.
But there’s more to the story; we must tell it all.
Years ago – when I was a young boy of almost eleven who had recently gone down into the water with Preacher Miller – I was asked to step up and lead a song at the old, red brick church of Christ in our Southern hometown. I’ll always remember the title of the hymn. After forty-plus years, in a way it kind of tells a life story:
“I love to tell the story.”
I still do.
I think I love to tell it more now than ever. It means more. I’ve had more years to weigh its value. I have the thrill of blessings and the burden of failures to give it more meaning.
It is still the story of a beautiful child born in Bethlehem, born among the animals in a barn.
But it’s more.
It’s the story of a Man who ate with sinners and healed the diseases of the afflicted and gave strength to the tired and weary.
It’s the story of more than a man – the son of God – Who would take men whose lives were battered and torn, and He’d mold them so that when they walked away you wouldn’t recognize who they were at all. Just like the old violinist.
It’s the story of the King of kings finishing supper, then tossing a towel over His shoulder, taking a basin of water, and bowing down to wash his disciples' feet. This one reminds us to be a servant, not a king.
It’s the story of a Man who – when He washed the disciples’ feet – washed the feet of a man by the name of Judas. At that, we must pause.
It’s the story of a fearful woman facing a mob with rocks in their hands; but the Master passed by, and she walked away with grace in her hands.
It’s the story of a blind man who had never seen a single thing his whole life.
Until he met the Carpenter.
That evening, this blind man watched the scattering of the sun’s oranges and blues, yellows and reds across the western horizon.
Ah, there’s more to this story than can be told in a single holiday season, and far more than a meager column in the paper can give.
But we have to remember that it’s a story of a Man who carried a cross up a hill called Calvary, a story of a man with nail scars in His hands.
The biography doesn’t end that dark day outside Jerusalem, though.
Triumphantly, there’s an empty tomb, a risen Lord, and a reigning King.
That’s the story we like to tell best of all.
Still, it is not to take away the warmth of the Christmas season with the story of a babe in a manger, either. That story is as grand as ever. The more we tell it, the more wonderful it seems, even now – as the old song says – “as I tell it now to thee.”
Coach Steven Ray Bowen served as a teacher and basketball coach at Red Oak High from 1998-2012 and recently spent two years teaching and coaching at Ferris. He and his wife Marilyn (the “amazin’ blonde”) served many years with the Church of Christ of Red Oak at Uhl/Ovilla Roads, but now spend time evangelizing in several states in addition to Coach’s work as a writer and author, including the writing of the ongoing novel/memoir here in the Press. Call or text (972) 824-5197, or email coachbowen1984@gmail.com, or see frontporchgospel.com.