Reginald Fessenden

Sometime around 1904, the United States Navy began transmitting time signals and weather reports on AM Radio.  These transmissions were made in the Northeast, with the intention of providing information to ships in the Atlantic Ocean.  At the time, AM Radio was a new technology, and this new technology was not yet capable of transmitting voice -- only Morse code.

Now imagine.  It is December 24, 1906 -- Christmas Eve -- and you are a ship captain somewhere in the Atlantic off of the Eastern seaboard of the United States.  You probably have family and friends at home, wherever that may be, who are at that very moment celebrating Christmas.  Maybe you have children or grandchildren who are wide-eyed and wound up in anticipation of Christmas morning.  But you are, for all practical purposes, alone.  Your world is cold and dark. 

Imagine that you are listening to the radio -- waiting for the periodic signals from the U.S. Navy.  You are waiting to hear tapping sounds that you will be able to translate into words to confirm the time or to get the latest weather report.  But tonight is different from other nights on the Atlantic.  Instead of the tapping sound of Morse code -- instead of dots and dashes -- you hear something unexpected and indeed unbelievable.  You hear music. 

First, you here "Ombra mai fu" -- composed by George Frederic Handel (who, of course, also composed what is known as "Handel's Messiah").  Then you hear "O Holy Night" played softly on a violin.  And finally, you hear a voice.  It is the voice of Reginald Fessenden, and he is reading from the Gospel of Luke:  "Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men of good will."  Luke 2:14.  He is reading from the account in Luke of an extraordinary and unimaginable day.  It is the day when in the City of David a savior was born into the world -- the Christ, the Messiah -- Jesus.  It is a day when mankind was given an undeserved gift from the creator of the universe -- a gift of hope and the gift of forgiveness.

Today we live in a world that is not unlike that night on the Atlantic on Christmas Eve in 1906.  Today, we find ourselves in a lonely, cold, dark world.  In fact, it is a world that seems to be getting colder and darker all the time.  For many all hope seems to be lost.

But, of course, there is still in the darkness a voice of hope.  And, it is just as powerful as it has ever been.

I hope that among the "happy holidays" this year people will hear voices wishing them a "Merry Christmas."  But not, as some might think, as some silly backlash against the secularization of Christmas.  I hope that "Merry Christmas" will lead to a deeper conversation about hope, about forgiveness, and about the gift of salvation.  It is my prayer that when we say "Merry Christmas" people will see from our expressions that we do not mean it as some trite greeting or farewell, but instead they will see it as a heart-felt desire for God's blessings in their lives.  I hope ...  no, I pray that this Christmas God will use your voice to remind people that He is with us; that He is Immanuel.