Paddy Discovers the Forever Christmas! by Pastor Jim Allen

Advent Week Four: Love – The Road Home and The Forever Christmas

By Pastor Jim Allen and his Golden Doodle “Paddy”

 

The fourth purple candle of our Advent wreath flickered, casting a soft, dancing light across the living room. The air was thick with the scent of fresh pine needles and cinnamon from the kitchen, battling the draft of a cold December wind howling outside the frosted windows. On the rug, the grandchildren were building a tower of blocks, their quiet giggles providing a gentle soundtrack to the evening. Beside me sat Paddy, my Golden Doodle and theological debate partner, his head resting heavily on my knee, staring deeply into the fire that crackled in the hearth.

 

“So, Dad,” Paddy nudged my arm with a wet, cold nose, breaking my trance. “We left off with the Magi and the Joy candle. But Joseph had to run, right? Because of that bad King Herod?”

 

“That’s right, buddy,” I said, scratching him behind the ears, watching his tail thump a slow rhythm against the sofa. “God warned Joseph in a dream to take Mary and Jesus and flee to Egypt (Matthew 2:13). It wasn't just a vacation; it was a desperate escape under the cover of night. Imagine the dust of the road, the heat rising from the desert floor, and the strange, foreign sounds of a new language.”

 

I leaned back, picturing the scene. “They likely went to Alexandria. It was a loud, bustling city with a huge Jewish presence. You can almost smell the spices in the air and the wet mortar of new construction. Joseph, along with his brother Cleopas, set up their business there. Alexandria was in the middle of a massive building boom, so God provided work for two skilled tektons (builders) amidst the noise and limestone dust of the city.”

 

Paddy tilted his head, his golden curls falling over his eyes. “So, they stayed there forever?”

 

“No. They stayed until Herod the Great died around 4 BC. God has a way of closing doors and opening new ones. When the coast was clear, Joseph and Cleopas gathered up their families—Jesus was just a toddler then—and began the long, arduous 11 day journey back to Israel (Matthew 2:19-21). I imagine that long walk gave them plenty of time to reflect as the scenery changed from Egyptian sands to the green hills of Judea. They likely talked about everything: the star, the shepherds, and that specific day they took Jesus to the Temple for his dedication and circumcision.”

 

Paddy’s ears perked up, twitching slightly. “Circumcision? What’s a circumcision?”

I froze. The grandchildren were right there, stacking a blue block on top of a red one. The room suddenly felt very quiet. I leaned down low, shielded by the arm of the sofa, and whispered the clinical definition into Paddy’s flopping ear.

 

Paddy’s eyes went wide, reflecting the firelight in a look of pure horror. He barked, loud enough to startle Grandma who was asleep in her recliner, “Whaaat? They did what to baby Jesus?”

 

“Shh!” I hushed him, glancing at the kids and Grandma. “I’ll explain the theology later. But practically, it was done on the eighth day because that is when a newborn infant’s Vitamin K peaks, ensuring the blood clots and the wound heals quickly. It was a sign of the Covenant cut into the flesh (Leviticus 12:3; Luke 2:21).”

 

Paddy shuddered visibly, pulling his tail in close between his legs. “I am sure glad you didn’t have to do anything like that to me! Right, Dad?”

 

I looked away, suddenly finding a loose thread on the upholstery very interesting. The fire popped loudly, filling the awkward silence.

 

“Dad?” Paddy persisted, nudging me harder with his snout.

 

“Well,” I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat. “You didn’t have a circumcision… ahem… you had something else done.”

 

Paddy stood up, putting his heavy paws on my knees, staring me down. “Just what did I have done? Or better yet, what did you have done to me?”

 

“Remember that ‘long sleep’ you had at Doc Gretchen’s office four months ago? The one with the cold metal table and the sterile smell?”

 

“Yeah,” Paddy said skeptically. “I got a treat after. What about it?”

 

“Well, the Vets did something called ‘neutering’ you.”

 

“What’s neutering?”

 

Once again, mindful of the innocent ears of the grandchildren, I leaned down and whispered the answer, shielding my mouth with my hand.

 

Paddy gasped, the air leaving his lungs in a wheeze. “You did what!” His voice was pure panic. “My legacy! Gone!”

 

“I’m sorry, Paddy, but it’s what responsible owners do.”

 

Paddy stared into the middle distance, watching the flames dance, a look of dawn realization washing over his face. “Well,” he muttered, “That explains why I completely lost interest in my subscription to PlayDog Magazine.”

 

“Okay, can I continue with the Christmas story now?” I asked, trying to suppress a grin.

 

Paddy sat back down on the rug with a huff, one eyebrow raised sternly. “Yes. But we will have to talk about this later. And there better be extra treats involved.”

 

“Deal,” I said. “So, back to the story. Joseph and Mary must have reflected on that eighth day in the Temple. That was when Simeon and Anna, two elderly prophets who smelled of incense and old parchment, saw the baby and prophesied that He was indeed the Christ (Luke 2:25-38). They stored all this in their hearts as they returned to live in Bethlehem for those first two years.”

 

“Until the bad man came?” Paddy asked, his voice softer now.

 

“Yes. Herod the Great, in his paranoia, ordered the slaughter of the innocents. It is estimated that 24 to 32 babies under the age of two were killed because Herod feared one of them would take his throne (Matthew 2:16-18). But by the time the soldiers’ boots hit the pavement, God had already moved Joseph and Jesus to safety.”

 

“God always has a plan,” Paddy noted, resting his chin on my slipper.

 

“He does. And now, with Herod dead, they were moving to Nazareth (Matthew 2:23).

 

“Why Nazareth?” Paddy asked.

 

“Because God provides. It was announced that Herod Antipas was rebuilding a city called Sepphoris, just four miles away, a mere hour's walk. It was a massive project, destined to be the 'Ornament of all Galilee,' filled with theaters and villas. This guaranteed decades of steady work for skilled builders like Joseph and Cleopas. So, Jesus was raised there in Nazareth, working alongside his earthly father and uncle, with calloused hands and the smell of sawdust in his hair. This fulfilled the prophecy that Jesus would be called a Nazarene.”

 

“You mean like the ones in Point Township?” Paddy thoughtfully asked..

 

I laughed, “No Paddy, just like John the Baptist wasn’t a Baptist, Jesus wasn’t a Point Township Nazarene. We love our Nazarene and Baptist friends, but it was what they called the good folks who came from Nazareth.

 

“Oh, but wait!” Paddy interrupted. “What happened to Joseph? He disappears from the Bible later on.”

 

“We assume Joseph, being much older than the Virgin Mary, passed away or had an accident on the job sometime after Jesus turned twelve—after the famous trip to Jerusalem where Jesus stayed behind in the Temple (Luke 2:41-42).”

 

“Oh yeah!” Paddy wagged his tail against the floorboards. “When His Momma Mary asked, ‘Didn’t you know we were looking for you?’ and Jesus said, ‘Didn’t you know I would be in my Father’s House?’” (Luke 2:48-49).

 

“Exactly. After Joseph was gone, his brother Cleopas stepped in. In that culture, he became the ‘Kinsman Redeemer,’ helping to raise Jesus and care for Mary. That’s why Luke 24 is so important, Paddy. After Jesus was crucified and rose from the dead, we find two disciples walking on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13).”

 

“I know this one!” Paddy barked. “It was Cleopas!” (Luke 24:18).

 

“Right. Picture it: The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the dusty road. Cleopas and his wife Mary—the sister of the Virgin Mary (John 19:25)—were walking home, their sandals coated in grit, their hearts heavy with grief. Suddenly, a stranger joined them. They were amazed he didn’t know what had happened in Jerusalem. But Jesus was hiding his identity from the two people who helped raise him—his own uncle and aunt. He wanted to reveal something deeper than just his face (Luke 24:16).”

 

“Just like His presence is revealed to you when you take Holy Communion, right Dad?”

 

“Exactly right, Paddy. They stopped for the night, the smell of baked bread and wine filling the room (Luke 24:30-31). And then, Jesus began to share what I call…”

 

Paddy jumped up, putting his paws on my chest. “I read your dissertation paper, Dad! He revealed the Holy Hermeneutic!”

 

“Yes, Paddy! You’ve been paying attention! Jesus showed them how to see Him in every part of the Old Testament. He started with Moses and the Prophets (Luke 24:27).”

 

“Like the Angel of the Lord appearances!” Paddy yipped, jumping down and spinning in a circle on the rug. “That was Jesus! And the Commander of the Lord’s Army at Jericho! Right?” (Joshua 5:13-15).

 

“Yes! Jesus showed them that He was there all along. And then He must have taken them to the story of Abraham sacrificing Isaac—a vivid picture of the Father sacrificing the Son (Genesis 22). Then He likely turned to the scrolls of the prophets.”

 

I picked up my worn leather Bible from the end table. “He would have quoted Isaiah 7:14 about the virgin birth, and Isaiah 9:6, ‘For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given.’ He surely walked them through the agony of Psalm 22 to show his crucifixion and Zechariah 12:10 about them looking on the one they pierced.”

 

“And Micah 5:2!” Paddy added. “About being born in the little town of Bethlehem!”

“Precisely. In a flash, after breaking the crusty bread, Jesus disappeared and went to Jerusalem to teach this same Holy Hermeneutic to the rest of the disciples (Luke 24:44-45). And do you know who else learned it? Philip.”

 

“The Deacon?”

 

“Yes. Not long after Jesus ascended, Philip found himself on a hot, desert road (Acts 8:26-27). A chariot rattled by, carrying an Ethiopian Eunuch. The man was reading Isaiah 53 but didn’t understand it. Philip used the Holy Hermeneutic to explain that the suffering servant was Jesus (Acts 8:35).”

 

Paddy stopped wagging his tail. He looked down at his paws, then back at me with a soulful expression, the firelight catching the amber in his eyes. “Dad… I just had a thought. Am I a eunuch?”

 

I paused, looking at my faithful, neutered friend. “In a way, yes you are, Paddy. But listen to me: that means you are set apart for a special purpose. God used that Ethiopian Eunuch to take the Gospel to an entire continent. No matter what happens—good or bad, or what we lose in this life—God uses it for good.”

 

“Wow,” Paddy whispered. “Someone like me is in the Bible getting saved!”

 

“That’s right. This week is the week of Love, Paddy. ‘For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son.’ (John 3:16). That love includes everyone who believes.”

 

Paddy leaned his heavy head against my leg, letting out a deep sigh. “But Dad! Tell me the best part!”

 

“The best part?”

 

“Yeah! The part where Christmas never ends!”

 

I smiled, looking at the twinkling lights on our tree. “Ah, yes. The prophecies didn't end with the first Christmas. Isaiah 65 and Revelation 20 tell us that Jesus is coming again to set up a Kingdom—a Millennium where it will be like Christmas for a thousand years (Isaiah 65:17-25; Revelation 20:1-6). Peace, joy, and the wolf lying down with the lamb.”

 

“Or the Golden Doodle lying down with the squirrel?” Paddy suggested hopefully.

 

“Maybe even that. And after that, Revelation 21 and 22 describe the New Heaven and New Earth. No more tears, no more death, no more pain (Revelation 21:4). God dwelling with us forever in a city that needs no sun because the Lamb is its light. That, Paddy, is the Christmas that never ends.”

 

Paddy closed his eyes, content. “I like that, Dad. A forever Christmas. And hey… since it’s the week of Love, does that mean you love me enough to give me that extra treat now? You know, for being a brave eunuch and all?”

 

I laughed, the sound mingling with the kids' play, and stood up. “Come on, boy. God provides, and today, He’s providing a milk-bone.”

 

As we walked to the kitchen, the fourth Advent candle burned bright against the winter night—a symbol of a Love that traveled from a manger to a cross, to an empty tomb, and one day, to a Kingdom that will never end.

 

For More Information: Pastor Jim encourages you to attend your Church of choice, but if you are looking for a Church home, please feel free to join us at the 10:10am Sunday Worship in the Trinity Evangelical Church Sanctuary. Pastor Jim and Paddy will be excited to share the Christmas Story with you.  We also invite you to our Christmas Eve Services at 5pm with the Puppets, our Traditional service at 8pm, and our Gospel Country service at 11:30pm. All services end with the Candlelight ceremony as we conclude with Silent Night. Trinity is located at the corner of 5^th and Mulberry Streets in Mount Vernon, Indiana.