Pause
Advent — hopes and dreams and possibilities abound. Yet sometimes, not all is as it seems. The burdens we bear can be hidden; our brokenness easily buried beneath busyness.
Come as you are today. Meet God here, just where you find yourself. Receive the tender touch of His unfailing love.
Ponder
“The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
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My father died two weeks before Christmas, and though I'd always loved the holiday season, for years afterward I felt depressed from the moment the first decorations went up in stores. Even today I can hear a carol at the mall or see children practicing for Christmas pageants, and the dormant ache of grief erupts.
I am not alone. As wonderful as the Christmas season can be, we need only look around to see those for whom it feels less like celebration and more like salt in open wounds. Holidays tend to surface our brokenness. Many feel walled in by grief, loneliness, or regret — taunted by memories they would rather forget.
Perhaps this was true for Herod the Great, the ruler of Judea at the time of Christ’s birth. Threatened by rumors of a newborn King, Herod decreed that all baby boys in the region of Bethlehem be killed. What kind of bondage would drive a man to such brutality?
History offers some clues. With a Jewish father and an Arab mother, Herod belonged fully to neither world. He likely grew up on the margins, taunted as an outsider. Later, while his older brother was given the honor of ruling Jerusalem, Herod was sent to govern Galilee — a far less desirable region. By age thirty, he had clawed his way up, paying for influence in Rome and eventually being named king of Judea.
Though he had many wives, the love of Herod’s life was a Hasmonean princess named Mariamne, deeply loved by the Jewish people. Her popularity stirred a violent jealousy in Herod. Convinced she was a threat, he eventually had her accused, condemned, and executed. After her death, Herod reportedly lost his grip on reality and never fully recovered.
Herod’s long reign cast a cruel shadow over the land. Near the end of his life, knowing he was despised, he ordered that prominent Jews be rounded up so they could be executed upon his death — ensuring that the nation would mourn, even if not for him. Mercifully, his sister Salome released them, preventing yet another massacre.
Herod’s story reminds us that unspeakable brokenness can hide beneath power, success, and outward strength. Behind cruelty, there is often deep pain. The worst kind of bondage is not physical captivity, but a heart so wounded and hardened that it cannot receive love or offer it freely.
And yet, into a world ruled by men like Herod, Jesus came. He came to declare the Lord’s favor — a favor that saves and heals and sets captives free. He came to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty, to release those imprisoned by fear, shame, or sin. This is the good news we cling to when our own hurts feel unmanageable or when others’ brokenness feels overwhelming.
As we remember the darker pages of the Christmas story, may we be filled with compassion for those who are hurting this season — and may we never forget that Jesus still comes to heal hidden wounds and free us from the worst kinds of bondage.
Pray
Spend a few minutes pondering what your life might be like if Jesus had not come to set you free. What kind of inner prison might you still be living in?
Are there areas this Christmas where you feel stuck, bound, or in need of His healing touch? Offer these places honestly to the Lord. Ask Him to meet you right here, right now. Receive His favor, and thank Him for the freedom He is working in you.
Practice
Though we are all broken in many ways, some who suffer most are those whose minds and hearts are in visible turmoil — in hospitals, on the streets, or in places where they feel forgotten. Ask God to guide you in an act of practical kindness: bring a small gift or note to someone in a mental health facility, or offer a warm drink, a meal, or a listening ear to someone who seems lost or alone. Let your compassion become a doorway for His love.
No chain is stronger than the mercy that came in Bethlehem.