By way of penance for the previous post, here’s something more serious, something that occurred to me this morning.

Rome declared that all the world should register so they could be taxed (Luke 2:1).

What’s the big deal? Rome counted the people. Locally they were counting the Jewish people, over whom Rome ruled there. Globally they were counting people from every tribe and nation over whom Rome ruled — virtually the entire known world at that time.

God superintends all counting. He forbade David to count the people (2 Samuel 24). And He ordained Rome to count the people (Luke 2).

Here’s the big deal. God added His Son to the population of the world, at the very moment when He ordained that the world would count its population.

Rome counted Jews, and Rome counted gentiles, but Rome’s rule would not last. At that very moment, the One whose kingdom will last forever entered the world, whose kingdom would extend beyond anything Rome imagined.

As the world was counted, God used a census to turn the spotlight on His Son, declaring, “As long as you’re counting, BE SURE TO COUNT THIS ONE!” — “…and they shall call his name Immanuel (which means, God with us).”

For Christmas 1946, employees at a certain printing and publishing company gave their employer a recording machine — a device that recorded audio onto 78 rpm records.

Their employer, Aaron Smith, was remarkable in that he had been born with no arms toward the end of the Civil War. Yet God gave him devoted parents, a loving wife, and a strong mind.

As good steward of these things, Smith founded a number of businesses and used them to provide for himself, family, distant relatives, and friends.

I am one such distant relative — distant in time, that is. He’s my great-grandfather.

Smith was ill that Christmas in 1946, but he sent his thanks and greetings to the employees on a record created on the machine. Employees in turn recorded their Christmas party for Smith’s amusement, since he could not attend. Later recordings include various family gatherings, usually accompanied by a piano and singing.

This Christmas I’m reminded of two other voices. One was loud and heard by many, as a “multitude of the heavenly host” announced Christ’s birth to the lowly shepherds. The other was a solo confined to an animal stall — the cry of a baby, Emmanuel, God with Us.

These voices from the past still call our names and guide us.

God’s voice is found in the Bible. Smith’s voice has been preserved on that recording machine his employees gave them, which you can hear here.