Why the best news ever heard depends on what you tell yourself …

“I have some good news and I have bad news; which do you want first?”

Most of us respond to that classic dilemma by asking for the bad news upfront. There is a practical, almost survivalist logic to it. We want to face the difficult reality, clear the debris, and then hope that the good news is sweet enough to buffer the blow. We live in a world where news is a constant tide, and more often than not, it feels like we are just bracing for the next wave of bad news to hit the shore.

But news, in its purest form, is just information until it passes through the filter of the human mind.

The machinery of our joy
In the world of psychology, specifically within Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, we learn that an event itself doesn’t actually create our feelings. Instead, it is the “self-talk” or the internal narrative we construct about that event that dictates our emotional state. If someone gives you a gift, you feel joy not just because of the object, but because you think, “This person cares about me.” If you receive a critique at work, you feel dejected because you think, “I am failing.”

Our thoughts are the architects of our emotions, and the combination of our thoughts and emotions are the drivers of our behavior. This creates a fascinating tension when we look at the most significant announcement in human history.

When the angel appeared to the shepherds on the outskirts of Bethlehem that first Christmas night, the message wasn’t a suggestion or a vague hope. It was a definitive declaration of a new reality. The angel said, “… Don’t be afraid! I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people” (Luke 2:10).

The angel wasn’t just delivering a headline, he was predicting an emotional outcome: great joy. This wasn’t a fleeting happiness or a momentary “good vibe.” It was “megas” joy — intense, wide-reaching, and transformative. Yet, even with an angelic endorsement, the actual impact of that news was entirely dependent on the “self-talk” of those who heard it.

A tale of two narratives
The news was the same for everyone: “The Savior – yes, the Messiah, the Lord — has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David!” (Luke 2:11). But the emotional response varied wildly based on the thoughts of the listeners.

For the shepherds, the self-talk was likely rooted in wonder and hope. They were the marginalized, the outsiders, yet they were the first to be invited. Their thoughts led them to run toward the manger. Their behavior was a direct result of believing the news was for them.

However, when the news reached the palace in Jerusalem, the internal narrative changed. It is recorded in Matthew 2:3 that “King Herod was deeply disturbed when he heard this, as was everyone in Jerusalem.”

Why was Herod disturbed by “good news”? Because his self-talk was rooted in self-preservation and fear. To Herod, a new King meant a threat to his throne. The news was objectively good — the world’s Redeemer had arrived — but because Herod’s thoughts were filtered through power and ego, the resulting emotion wasn’t joy, it was agitation.

Choosing the great joy
This Christmas, the “news” of the season remains unchanged. The message of the angel still rings out: “Don’t be afraid! I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people.”

The bad news of our world is already well-documented. We’ve heard it, we’ve faced it, and we carry it in our tired shoulders. But the great joy the angel spoke of is not a natural byproduct of a stress-free life; it is a supernatural response to the identity of the Child in the manger.

Joy becomes our reality when we consciously align our internal narrative with the truth of who Jesus is. If we tell ourselves that we are alone, or that our value is tied to our performance, the Christmas story remains just a lovely, distant fable. But if our self-talk shifts to recognize that the Savior has come specifically to bridge the gap between us and God and reconcile us to Him, the emotion of great joy begins to stir.

It is a choice whether to let the “good news” be the loudest voice in the room. When we stop bracing for the next piece of bad news and instead fix our thoughts on the arrival (and eventual return!) of the Messiah, we find that the joy the angel promised is not just a historical footnote, but a present, living strength.

Scotty