Had there been network or cable news 2,000 years ago, would ABC, CNN, or Fox News have covered the most significant event in human history up to that time?

I can’t see how the birth of the Son of God would have made the news. With Augustus Caesar raising taxes exponentially to support his extravagant lifestyle, the political intrigue within the “beltway” of political operatives and talking heads in Rome, and wars and troubles in the territories of the Empire, a baby born to a young Jewish mother too poor to afford health care or housing in a little known suburb of Jerusalem would go virtually unnoticed.

So, while Rome was preoccupied with empire-building, a couple from Nazareth of Galilee traveled 90 miles south of the city of their ancestor King David, a town called Bethlehem. In the womb of the young virgin was the very Son of God. And at precisely the right moment the Savior of the world was born…not in a palace but a cave…not on sterile sheets in a nursery but on straw in a manger…under the evening sky.

But the press release in heaven documented the Incarnation of the Son of God with bold headlines, “The fullness of times has come! Good tidings of great joy will be to all people. For there is born to us today in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, goodwill toward men.

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Since our son-in-law David went down with a terrible and debilitating disease a month ago, a lot of Judy and mine’s life has been dedicated to “Zach duty.”

Zachary is our grandson—David and Celia’s fat-cheeked bundle of smiles whose energy stretches my almost 60-year-old body to its limits. He’s a robust, squirmy adventurer who chafes at every limitation.

But the one attribute that’s on my mind during this season we Christians commemorate the birth of Jesus is Zach’s dependence.

Without someone to love him and care for him, he’s totally helpless. He can’t feed himself, clean himself or protect himself. He doesn’t even know how to go to sleep on his own.

Watching Zach during this season helps me appreciate the humility of our Lord Jesus.

It was love for me—love for you—that moved the Creator of heaven and earth to be born on this little marble of a planet. It was mercy that moved Him to show up in a baby’s soft skin, totally helpless, totally dependent.

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory o the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14).