Chris Tomlin Releases Kids' Book Good News of Great Joy
The announcement was brief, but it raises a question that has nothing to do with prices or releases: who tells the story?
Chris Tomlin shared that his new children's book, Good News of Great Joy, is now available. With that on the table, the deeper conversation is still a different one: who tells the story to the ones coming up behind us?
The Night Shift
Some jobs nobody photographs: the person sweeping the hallway at 3 a.m. in an airport, the nurse caring for patients while the city sleeps, the guy packing orders when no one else is awake. In Bethlehem, that shift belonged to a group of shepherds: they smelled like sheep, they never came up in conversation, and they didn't have an important last name.
Luke describes it with no frills: "And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night" (Luke 2:8, ESV). Right there, on that shift, God decided to speak first. He didn't send the notice to Herod's palace or to the hall of the teachers of the law. He sent it to those who were awake, looking after something that wasn't theirs.
«Grace always runs from the top down.»
The scene unsettles and comforts at the same time. It unsettles because it dismantles the idea that God works by résumé. It comforts because it makes clear that no one is too far from the center to be left out of the announcement.
The Message Was for All the People
The angel didn't hand them a marketing plan. He gave them news: "Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord" (Luke 2:10-11, ESV).
Notice how far it reaches: for all the people. Not for those who behaved that year, or for those who can quote the prophets. The shepherds did nothing to earn that shift. No one gets to this news by their own merit; we get there because God takes the initiative. Grace always runs from the top down.
The Story That Gets Passed Down
A children's book doesn't fix anything on its own. But it reminds us of something that gets lost among the lights and the gift lists: faith is passed on by telling, and it is almost always told first to someone small who listens from the floor.
Think of the kid who watches you while you set up the tree, your younger brother, the youth group you're helping lead this December. That person doesn't need a polished version of the story. They need to know that the announcement reached first the ones nobody was looking at.
This week you can do something concrete: read Luke 2 out loud with someone younger than you, with no frills or long explanations, and let the words do their work. Christmas begins far from the center, on the night shift. What Christmas story are you telling?
