Eighteen to Nothing

A man approached a little league baseball game one afternoon. He asked a boy in the dugout what the score was. The boy responded, “Eighteen to nothing—we’re behind.” “Boy,” said the spectator, “I’ll bet you’re discouraged.” “Why should I be discouraged?” replied the little boy. “We haven’t even gotten up to bat yet!”

In 1847, Placide Clappeau wrote the words to “O Holy Night”. John Sullivan Dwight (1812-1893) translated it from French to English. Clappeau, a wine merchant and mayor of Roquemaure, France, wrote poems for his own enjoyment. We may be so thankful that he wrote this poem that centers our attention on hope. Following are the words to the first verse:

O holy night! the stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of the dear Savior's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
Till he appeared, and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary soul rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn;
Fall on your knees; O, hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night, O holy night, O night divine.

Perhaps you find yourself “at the end of your rope” today. I have good news! With the first Christmas, “a new and glorious morn” really did break. Jesus, the Savior has been born. The writer of Hebrews understood this and wrote the following encouragement to the Jewish believers of his day:

“And so, dear brothers and sisters, we can boldly enter heaven's Most Holy Place because of the blood of Jesus. This is the new, life-giving way that Christ has opened up for us through the sacred curtain, by means of his death for us. And since we have a great High Priest who rules over God's people, let us go right into the presence of God, with true hearts fully trusting him. For our evil consciences have been sprinkled with Christ's blood to make us clean, and our bodies have been washed with pure water. Without wavering, let us hold tightly to the hope we say we have, for God can be trusted to keep his promise.” (Hebrews 10:19-39, NLV).


Just like the little boy at the baseball game, hope must spring up within us for us to realize the full victory of faith. I am not a connoisseur of great art, but from time to time a painting or picture will really speak a clear, strong message to me. Some time ago I saw a picture of an old burned-out mountain shack. All that remained was the chimney...the charred debris of what had been that family’s sole possession. In front of this destroyed home stood an old grandfather-looking man dressed only in his underclothes with a small boy clutching a pair of patched overalls. It was evident that the child was crying. Beneath the picture were the words which the artist felt the old man was speaking to the boy. They were simple words, yet they presented a profound theology and philosophy of life. Those words were, “Hush child, God ain’t dead!” That vivid picture of that burned-out mountain shack, that old man, the weeping child, and those words “God ain’t dead” keep returning to my mind. Instead of it being a reminder of the despair of life, it has come to be a reminder of hope! I need reminders that there is hope in this world. In the midst of all of life’s troubles and failures, I need mental pictures to remind me that all is not lost as long as God is alive and in control of His world. Let every Christmas reminder, this year, cause hope to spring up within your heart and soul. God really ain’t dead!