Breaking Through Every Channel

On August 15, 1945, Emperor Hirohito's voice came over the radio for the very first time. Across the Pacific theater, American soldiers in foxholes and on ships heard the announcement crackle through: the war was over. The message wasn't reserved for generals or diplomats. It broke through every channel, for every person, all at once — and people wept wherever they heard it.

That's the shape of what happened on the hillside outside Bethlehem. "I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people." The Greek word pas means every one, every sort, without exception. Not some of the people. Not the religious people, or the important people. All.

Shepherds were the last people anyone would have chosen to receive such news. They were ceremonially unclean by the standards of the day, socially invisible, working a night shift that nobody envied. And yet the sky broke open above them with a message that had never been transmitted in human history: a Savior has been born. Today. In David's city. For you.

The angel didn't say "for Israel" or "for the worthy." The announcement was broadcast to whoever was awake and listening. That night, it was cold, bleary shepherds on a hillside. But the frequency was set for everyone.