This Article Was Originally Published On Jan 18, 2021

The year was 1989, and I was a freshman in high school. I was sitting at a lone desk in an empty hallway because, once again, my behavior had gotten me kicked out of class—but on purpose, actually. Because though I was attending one of the best prep schools in New Jersey and in all honors classes, occasionally, when the learning material couldn’t quite hold my attention, I’d goof around until I was asked to take my desk into the hallway. And what would I do once in the hallway? I’d eagerly pull out Strength To Love, by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Since middle school, Dr. King was always my favorite, reading away and even re-reading the heavier content until I got it. Dr. King was a pure scholar.

“My friends, we cannot win the respect of the White people of the South or elsewhere if we are willing to trade the future of our children for our personal safety or comfort. Moreover, we must learn that passively to accept an unjust system is to cooperate with that system, and thereby become a participant in its evil… Put up thy sword.” — Strength To Love, 1963

This book I always carried with me was actually an original paperback that had belonged to my father during his executive administrative position at Seton Hall University. He had emulated the steps of Dr. King and became a leader in the civil rights struggle in New Jersey, implementing scholarship programs and graduate programs for people of color, which are still active until this very day. But not before he first endured growing up in poverty in the Deep South of the 1950s. He attended segregated schooling throughout high school, where his hungry mind always had to wait until the white schools finished sucking the abridged life out of every textbook before his school could finally get them. Even after earning valedictorian at his school, his physics teacher gave him a failing grade on a perfect paper. When my dad asked why, the teacher told him, “I didn’t give you an ‘A’ on that paper because you said you wanted to be a nuclear physicist, and a colored person has no business being a nuclear physicist.”

On this day when Dr. King’s birthday is nationally honored (his actual birthday being January 15), what does he mean to me?

As far back as I can remember, and even before his birthday became a national holiday in 1986, an integral part of our northern urban culture was to ecstatically celebrate Dr. King’s birthday—even if it just meant turning up Stevie Wonder’s “Happy Birthday to Ya,” extra loud on Mom’s clock radio as we’d get ready for school that morning.

Also, as far back as I can remember, whenever Dr. King’s name was mentioned, the emphasis on the title “doctor” was always sacred, as to just say his name would seemingly usher in a hush of honor and dignity as everyone would seem to hold their heads a bit higher for a second. While others called him by his full name without the title, we remembered him as a man who overcame all obstacles to earn his Ph.D., a rarity for countless black folks in those times. He was beloved in our community: He was like everyone’s unofficial favorite grandfather, father, godfather, uncle or son. A man, who for the sake of fighting for the freedoms of the oppressed, didn’t fear violent fists, fire hoses, bone-bruising batons, handcuffs, prison cells, police dogs trained to go berserk whenever they saw brown skin, or even death itself.

I grew up in a home with a humanistic worldview, attending Catholic church only on the important holidays, so I had a vague familiarity with Jesus. But I remember reading Dr. King’s references to Jesus Christ, Christ’s Sermon on the Mount and Christ’s commandment to forgive and turn the other cheek, and then getting to observe how Dr. King actually lived it out. He was the first person to make Jesus’ life and teachings relevant and powerful to me. Long before I was anywhere close to believing the Gospel and giving my heart to Christ, Dr. King showed this once-young, curious “searching” teenager—growing up on the drug-dealing streets of inner-city New Jersey, while at the same time, going to a wealthy prep school where I had my own countless bouts with both blatant and covert forms of racism—that Jesus was real and that Jesus’ teachings were still relevant in modern times and for modern issues.

Fast forward now: I matriculated at the “Ivy League” halls of the University of Pennsylvania, and though I was a pre-med student, I began learning much more about the world around me.

As an African-American Studies minor, I studied other prominent black leaders who had ideologies quite different from those of Dr. King’s.

I attended various lectures and even sat at the feet of people like Bobby Seale, co-founder of the Black Panther Movement (along with Huey P. Newton). I read Malcolm X and others who critiqued Dr. King’s methods. But to me, Dr. King remained bulletproof from the blaze of any critic; his message of reconciliation was simple and powerful and grounded in the love taught by Christ.

Fast forward, yet again, to when I hadn’t read Dr. King in years, by this point, when I was my senior year at Penn and busy navigating and (seemingly barely) surviving my own personal Ecclesiastes, like the spiritually-wearied King Solomon—suddenly finding everything around me to feel like “vanity” and “chasing wind” when it came to finding “true fulfillment”—and thereby, leading me to discover the regenerating Gospel of Jesus Christ as the true summum bonum (i.e., “greatest good”) for all of mankind. Oh, “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found, t’was blind but now, I see.”

As I graduated from Penn and began devouring the Word of God and growing in a (heavy) Bible-teaching church community, I was learning to “rightly divide the word of God” and even hold up the teachings of others against the Word of God—just as Jesus instructs His followers to do (I Thessalonians 5:21; Psalm 138:2). And it was at this point that I learned the difference between good or “sound” theology, bad theology and even “slightly off” theology.

I began learning more about Gospel-centered ministry, and how when Jesus spoke of giving a (refreshing) cup of water to even a child in His name, that even that wouldn’t go unrewarded by Him—and how some are indeed giving the (refreshing) cup of cold water “in His name” (i.e., while sharing the soul-saving “Good News” message of Jesus Christ, while countless others—all in the name of “Christian ministry”—all too often end up compromising with a “Social Gospel,” which still gives the (refreshing) cup of cold water and meets the pressing need(s) at hand, only they neglect doing it “in His name,” as the final element of Jesus’ command.

Thus, as a Bible-lensed believer, I had to now look at Dr. King, my first “superhero,” my first scholar whom I read in empty “naughty” hallways, after getting kicked out of class, the man who greatly inspired my own (hero) father, the man who still made my mom get teary-eyed when she found a rare book by him to gift to me, the man who first made Jesus real to me… I had to look at him through the lenses of “rightly divided” Scripture. And having a close friend who worked directly with Dr. King’s children at the King Foundation in Atlanta, Georgia, I even got access to hundreds of pages of King’s never-released essays, including essays from his younger days attending a liberal seminary, where he even questioned the Word of God’s supreme, inerrant theology, while trying to amalgamate the biblical worldview with ancient Egyptian belief systems. Add to that the pressing questions you hear voiced here and there:

Was Dr. King a socialist or communist? Was he an adulterer? Did he fall victim to Jesus’ warnings concerning “the leaven of Herod,” falling into the trap of mingling humanistic political might with unadulterated Gospel hope? There was so much to think about, but I had to be reminded of one thing: Whenever we are confronted with uncertainties or unanswered questions surrounding a person, we tend to “throw the baby out with the bathwater.” At the heart of observing others, will always remain the ongoing struggle of reconciling the imperfections of the person, with the redeemable parts and lessons of the message and the overall work.

So what do we do with all of this, and as (rhetorically) stated in the title of Dr. King’s last book he wrote, Where Do We Go From Here? I have come to the conclusion that we owe Dr. King the same grace we’ve extended to King David, King Uzziah, Peter & the other disciples, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and his reported involvement in two assassination attempts on Hitler, C.S. Lewis and his non-biblical belief in Purgatory, and countless others. In fact, it is the very same grace we pray to God for concerning our own personal lives every day. The Bible clearly instructs us to “mark the steps of a righteous man (Psalm 37:37),” to call sin for what it is, and to learn from those around us (and those in history), which also included learning from their mistakes, lest we easily slip and fall in (any and all similar) places ourselves (I Corinthians 10:12). Yes, the Word of God is supreme and is to be our guide in all things, but in doing so, love will always remain the “most excellent way” in doing so.

Most of all, here is my biggest question concerning Dr. King: Will I see my hero in heaven?

You know, I’ve read so much written by Dr. King and about Dr. King, that it gets confusing as to where I have read what at times. However, what stands out the most of all that I’ve ever read was an obscure essay he once wrote about the night back when he was leading his first bus boycott for the desegregation of buses in Montgomery, Alabama, and in retaliation, someone shot up his house, leaving bullet holes in the very sanctuary where his wife and kids found refuge.

He proceeded to write of how he sat alone that night in his kitchen—already a husband, father, up-and-coming national civil rights leader, and even a Baptist minister—and shaken to his core by what had happened to his home, he asked himself if he had truly experienced a (spiritually) born again experience in making Jesus Christ his personal Lord and Savior. And not sure of his own answer to that question, but wanting to make sure he was truly “in Christ” and not just deceivingly a mere part of “Churchianity” and “religious culture,” this pioneering visionary, scholar, courageous commander and religious man who emulated Jesus Christ, actually lowered his head and invited the risen Christ into His heart as his personal Lord and Savior for the remission of sins.

I’ve heard many wonder if King Solomon will be in heaven simply because of his severe backsliding (which led him to worship in very demonic ways). But based on his conclusion in Ecclesiastes, I believe King Solomon is in glory.

And I cannot prove it (for who knows the heart but God (I Corinthians 4:5), I believe my hero Dr. King is in glory as well.

In closing, what should be our practical take away and application concerning the legacy of Dr. King?

In this racially-polarized day, when so many (even in the Church) refuse to have the necessary, ongoing, tough conversations concerning race, and when we must be ready to (lovingly) challenge others (and even challenge ourselves at times), let us remember how Dr. King seemed to never grow weary in “leaning into discomfort” for the love of others. In a day when the Church has grossly confused merely knowing with actually doing something with what you know, let us remember how Dr. King’s entire life was a living sermon on how talk is cheap. More so, in a day, when Christians sometimes can’t even garner enough Christian humility to apologize to their next-door neighbors for the slightest offenses, Dr. King made Jesus’ teachings on forgiveness and “turning the other cheek” look supernatural, to say the least.

In a day when Christians can’t even embrace a brother or sister who adheres to a different style of worship or denominational viewpoint, let us remember how Dr. King was able to embrace Malcolm X with love and honor—even after Malcolm X publicly criticized Dr. King and regularly alluded to Dr. King not being “strong enough.” Most of all, in a day when we struggle with sacrificing for anything we deem “too costly,” in Dr. King we see a man who sacrificed even unto death—even (seemingly) prophesying about his imminent death in a message delivered some 24 hours before he was assassinated. In it, he declared that he still wasn’t going to stop and wasn’t concerned with such because he had received a fresh vision of His Lord Jesus Christ, and that He would one day be returning to Earth to reign as King of kings and Lord of lords.

You know, for so many reasons, I still can’t watch this video clip without tears running down my face. And when I grow up, I still want to be so much like Dr. King, just like I desire to be so much like King David, Abraham, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and so many others who have deeply impacted me for Jesus, in one way or another, even as they all prove that even “the best of men, are but men at best” (A.W. Pink).

So dear reader, let’s keep thinking; let’s keep the necessary conversations going while being more eager to listen than to speak; let’s love one another sacrificially; let’s love our enemies as Jesus commanded us; let’s continue facing this current evil day with relevant Gospel outreaches and spontaneous acts of love, all in our deepest desire to showcase Jesus Christ as man’s only solution for every dilemma—and especially the dilemma of race and America’s ongoing reaping from the ongoing sowing of things that clearly contradict the heart and mind of God concerning how people treat and value one another. Happy Birthday, Dr. King! Salute!

“Rarely do we find men who willingly engage in hard, solid thinking. There is an almost universal quest for easy answers and half-baked solutions. Nothing pains some people more than having to think.” — Strength To Love, 1963

“And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor,
Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
— Isaiah 9:6b

Every Christmas, it seems like Santa Claus gets more and more attention. He’s the star of movies and television specials, his picture appears on cards and wrapping paper, and he can be found at every mall. Life-size plastic Santas light up our front yards, and the worldwide progress of Santa’s sleigh and reindeer are even tracked on Christmas Eve newscasts!

Why is Santa Claus such a big deal? Perhaps it’s because we want someone supernatural to believe in, someone who’s too good to be true, someone who’ll show us the way to live and how to love one another.

For most people, it doesn’t matter that Santa is a fantasy—at least he’s an ideal we can look up to for a few weeks every year. But actually, the fantasy Santa Claus is based on a real person.

A Kind Man Named Nicholas

There was a man named Nicholas who lived in present-day Turkey in the fourth Century A.D. He was called Saint Nicholas because he lived a devout Christian life from an early age. It’s believed that the name Santa Claus came from the Dutch translation of his real name, Sinter Klaas. Saint Nicholas was a generous man and was especially noted for a specific act of kindness: giving bags of money to a poor man who had three daughters. This money was used for the daughters’ dowries so they could be married.

Saint Nicholas became the bishop of Myra in Turkey and was persecuted and imprisoned by the Roman Emperor Diocletian for his devotion to Christ. When the Roman Emperor Constantine converted to Christianity, Saint Nicholas was released from prison and continued to live as a zealous Christian minister throughout the rest of his life.

Who Did Nicholas Believe In?

Saint Nicholas was a man filled with the spirit of joy and giving because he believed not in a myth, but in the divine Savior. Though the fat, happy Santa Claus who wears a red suit and lives at the North Pole is a fantasy, there’s a real supernatural person you can believe in and depend on every day of the year.

That person is Jesus Christ.

For much of the culture at large, the true meaning of Christmas is almost totally lost. Most people think of Christmas sentimentally. A recent survey indicated that here in America, and I’m sure this would extend to the rest of the Western world as well, “a fewer number of people are celebrating Christmas as a religious holiday.” Of those surveyed here in the U.S., only 57 percent (down from 64 percent just 3 years ago) say they believe what the Gospels teach about the birth of Jesus. For most people, Christmas is about getting new things and spending time with family and friends. It’s not a bad thing to exchange gifts and spend time with family and friends, but if you leave Jesus out, calling the day Christ-mas makes little to no sense.

Yet even among believers, the true meaning of Christmas can often be obscured. We sentimentalize the manger surrounded by farm animals with baby Jesus in the center, asleep on the hay. But from the Biblical standpoint, Christmas is actually the fulfillment of the first phase of God’s Great Rescue Mission. If we fail to understand and celebrate Christmas in a way that overlooks or obscures that, then we have, to some degree, sentimentalized Christmas.

Seeing Christmas as God’s rescue mission, what do we see?

The Mission was Absolutely Necessary

“Long lay the world in sin and error pining” are words we have all heard and probably even sung for years. They are words that describe the human condition day after day, month after month, year after year, century after century—a pitiful situation we haven’t been able to free ourselves from even after thousands of years of attempting to do so. We had exhausted every hope of self-deliverance. We were Dead in Trespasses and Sins, Spiritually Blind, Living in Darkness, and Held Captive by Satan to do his will. To free us all from Satan’s power, one more powerful than he must intervene. As author Paul Tripp said, “Sin is so disastrous and inescapable that the only solution was for God to come and rescue us.”

Not only are we bound in sin and captives of the devil, we are also blind to our true condition. Blind to our need to be rescued. In an early episode of “The Crown” (Netflix), they portray Billy Graham’s visit to Queen Elizabeth during his 1954 London crusade.

The aristocracy, apart from the Queen, loathed the idea that this unsophisticated country boy from North Carolina would suggest that they were sinners in need of a savior. At one point, someone near the Queen spoke up, saying, “Holding a crusade gives the impression that we are no better than the pagans.” Yep, that’s how most people feel: dead in sin, captives of Satan and completely unaware of it all.

The Mission was Planned

All the way back to before the beginning of time, God, knowing that the ones he created and loved would be taken captive by the enemy, planned their rescue.

Matthew, in his Gospel, quotes two of Israel’s prophets to show that the events that unfolded in the manger in Bethlehem were happening according to God’s plan:

“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel.” Isaiah 7:14

“But as for you Bethlehem … too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you One will come forth for Me to be ruler in Israel. His times of coming forth are from long ago, from the days of eternity.” Micah 5:2

His coming was ordained from the days of eternity—before time.

The Mission was Costly

Mary: I wonder if we ever stop to think about the price those involved in the rescue mission paid. Think of Mary. Of course, there was the honor of being chosen to be the mother of the Messiah, but not everyone believed the story of her being pregnant by supernatural means. This would cast a shadow of suspicion over her and tarnish her reputation for the rest of her life. Jewish writers would later accuse her of having an adulterous relationship with a Roman soldier. And that is only part of the cost. Think of what it was like for Mary to see her own son viciously turned on by the mob and brutally murdered by the state. As Simeon prophesied to Mary, “A sword will pierce your own soul.”

Joseph: Think about Joseph for a moment. The emotional difficulty he suffered initially upon hearing that his betrothed was with child. Surely, this would have rocked his world. It took nothing less than an angelic visitation and revelation about Mary’s condition and the child Mary would bear to bring him back to a state of peace of mind. All of this obviously took Joseph out of his comfort zone, to say the least.

God the Father: What about the cost to the Father who gave his one and only Son? The Father who sent his beloved into the world where he would be despised and rejected, mocked, ridiculed, spit upon, brutally beaten and murdered. And these are only the things we can see that Jesus suffered. God only knows all that was involved when Jesus was being made an offering for sin, as Isaiah prophesied.

God the Son: The emotional, physical, and spiritual sufferings of the Son are the price he paid to redeem us and bring us back to God. But even beyond that, what does it mean that God the Son would now and forever have His deity joined with humanity? Is there an unimaginable cost involved in that for Jesus? It seems so. We don’t know all that the Incarnation entailed, but it’s something to ponder. For all of those immediately involved in the mission to rescue the captives, there was a cost.

The Mission was Dangerous, even Deadly

The Incarnation was the first step toward the Crucifixion. And in between were many perils: Herod’s attempt to destroy Jesus as a child, the people of Nazareth attempting to throw him off a cliff, the constant plots and schemes of the religious leaders to destroy him. The mission was fraught with danger.

To save His people from their sins would require that He give His life in exchange for theirs. This is the reality of a rescue mission.

On July 4^th, 1976, the IDF pulled off one of the greatest rescue missions of modern times when a commando unit liberated 102 Israeli and Jewish victims of the terrorist hijacking of Air France flight 139, which was given safe haven at the Entebbe International Airport by Idi Amin, the Ugandan dictator. This rescue mission was known as Operation Entebbe, but later became known as Operation Jonathan in memory of the unit’s leader, who was the only soldier killed during the mission—Lt. Col. Jonathan Netanyahu. He was the older brother of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.

The rescue mission that God sent His Son on would be dangerous; it would actually be deadly. In His effort to rescue us, Jesus would give up His own life. The manger was the first stop on the way to the cross.

The Mission was Personal

He shall save His people from their sins. This is a family matter. Christmas is the story of the Father sending the Son, the Older Brother, to rescue the children who have been abducted and are being held captive by their tormentors. Hebrews so profoundly expresses this, “Since the children share in flesh and blood, he likewise shared in their humanity, so that through death he could destroy the one who holds the power of death—that is, the devil, and set free those who were held captive all their lives by their fear of death.”

Mission Accomplished

So we see, Christmas is not mainly about gifts or decorations or food or family or friends or time off work, etc. Those are all good things, but they’re not the main thing, which is so much greater and more profound than all of those things could ever be in and of themselves. Christmas is about a loving Father who sent His Son on a mission, a mission to free us all from Satan’s power when we were gone astray, a mission to provide forgiveness for our sins and to bring us into a beautiful personal eternal relationship with the One who loves us with an everlasting love, the One who has a wonderful plan and purpose for our lives that stretches beyond time into eternity.

Christmas is nothing less than God’s ultimate rescue mission!

As a child at Christmas, our family crèche was placed in the living room next to a tall, lighted noble fir tree, dripping with ornaments from all over the world. My parents celebrated this day with all the trimmings—lots of presents, a huge feast, and a beautifully decorated home with all the winter charm. We were not a churchgoing family, yet I sometimes attended a Lutheran Sunday School with my siblings. I remember my twin brother and I waking up early in the morning and being exceptionally quiet, trying not to wake my parents so they would keep sleeping and we could miss church, once again. As we grew older, they lost interest in taking us.

A Family Tradition

My understanding of Christmas was partly formed alongside our captivating Nativity crèche with its silent figures, drawing my playful attention. For weeks, I would stare at the ceramic figure of Mary on both knees in adoration of her baby, Jesus, holding both hands to her heart. Next to her was Joseph, kneeling on one knee, keeping guard at the manger. One lone shepherd, dressed in rags, stood at a distance, holding a lamb on his shoulders while surrounded by his devoted sheep. Most fascinating to me were the three wisemen, dressed in glorious attire with turbans on their heads and holding gifts for the helpless Baby. One wiseman knelt reverently, while the other two waited their turn to present their offerings.

I spent hours moving the animals around in this enchanting scene, which also included a cow, donkey, and sheep. Which one should I place next to the special Babe that everyone sang about? A birthday celebration surrounded by animals and shepherds in wonderment captured my imagination. It seemed unheard of—yet also so believable.

The Surprising Theological Depth of Carols and Christmas Films

Besides the crèche, my childlike conception of the incarnation was also formed by the Christmas albums stacked high,playing for hours on our hi-fi stereo near the tree. The music filled the air, as did the smell of spritz cookies baking in the oven. Throughout December, the great crooners from the 1930s to the 1960s serenaded me day and night.

The peace I felt hearing Bing Crosby sing “Silent Night” taught me that the birth of Jesus came silently and humbly, filling my heart with wonder. Bing’s soothing voice singing of heavenly peace still brings nostalgia to this day.

Nat King Cole’s version of “Silent Night” added another memorable verse: “Son of God, loves pure light, radiant beams from Thy holy face, with the dawn of redeeming grace.” I didn’t know what “redeeming grace” meant at the time, yet the words sounded so calming.

In our idyllic, Christmas-decorated home, the Bible was never opened or read. The longest reading of Scripture I heard as a child was from the movie, A Charlie Brown Christmas, when Linus recited Luke 2:8-14, explaining “what Christmas is all about.”

Understanding Deepened

“The First Noël,” sung joyfully by Crosby, spoke of shepherds “keeping their sheep on a cold winter’s night that was so deep.” Then they looked up and saw “a bright star shining there in the East beyond them far!” Like a golden thread in a tapestry, the bright star was woven into many Christmas carols. Kings followed it, Mary and Joseph saw it, and songs were written to honor such a celestial miracle. At the top of our family crèche, we added a gold foil star, and my chubby fingers wedged it into the roof of the stable, just above Baby Jesus. The mystery of that star continues to fascinates me today.

Frank Sinatra’s triumphant “Hark the Herald Angels Sing,” taught me about the heavenly angels who sang in celebration at Jesus’ birth, “Glory to the newborn king!” This Baby was worshiped as King by other kings from the Orient, praised by angels, and treasured by His adoring parents. The line, “God and sinners, reconciled,” was far above my understanding, but it sounded hopeful!

“O Little Town of Bethlehem,” sung by Elvis, introduced me to a little hamlet far away in Israel, across the world from me in the state of Washington. Israel had only been a nation for twelve years when I was born. Since I had never read the Bible, I had no idea of this ancient country’s history. But I learned that “the hopes and fears of all the years” were met in Bethlehem on that wonderful night. I did not understand why, but listening to Crosby and Sinatra sing “O Come all ye Faithful,” I sensed a calling to adore this Babe born in Bethlehem, this King of angels. I was curious, but clueless.

Of all the Christmas carols I heard as a child, my favorite was “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen,” sung by Nat King Cole. I did not know what “tidings” were, but “comfort and joy” appealed to my young mind. Trying to comprehend “Satan and his power,” however, along with “we were gone astray” took another decade to decipher. It was then that my parents told me they did not believe in “the adversary.”

From Barbra Streisand’s 1967 Christmas album, I heard the haunting lyric, “I wonder as I wander out under the sky, how Jesus the Savior, did come for to die.” This early American Christmas hymn, planted new thoughts into my mind. Andy Williams echoed similar sentiments on his Christmas Album, (he had the best one, by the way). He laments in his song of apology, “Sweet little holy Child,” that “We didn’t know who You were. Didn’t know You’d come to save us Lord, to take our sins away; our eyes were blind, we could not see, we didn’t know who You were.” These lyrics made me curious. Did I know who He was? The words helped me understand that Jesus was born for a higher purpose, for something grander that I could ever imagine.

Result: A Softened Heart

Growing up, even in a non-believing home, both the crèche and the carols softened my heart with a tenderness for Jesus. There He lay, perfect and harmless, a little child like me. I felt struck by the reality of the Christmas story, the simple, humble beauty of it all. When my sixteenth birthday rolled around a decade later, I transposed my life into the line from “O Holy Night” that says, “Long lay the world, in sin and error pining, ‘til He appeared, and my soul felt its worth.”

At sixteen, I came face to face with my own sin, weakness, and brokenness. My mind recalled the sweet memories of Jesus born as a gift for me, my Savior to receive and my King to worship. I had no gold or sweet spices to offer, but I did not hesitate to present my heart to Him. Deep down, I knew He would treasure my gift. And in exchange, He gave me a thrill of hope for my weary soul.

“Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care, and take us to Heaven to live with Thee there.”

The Nativity Is Not Naïveté

Christmas has always been one of my favorite holidays. It’s more than the songs, the city lights, or the food. Even in my young adult life, when I was at odds with anything Christian, the Manger Story always drew me in. To my eyes, it looked so peaceful, hopeful, like home. It wasn’t until many years after coming to faith that I realized the warm feeling was my soul longing for Jesus.

As told in Matthew’s Gospel, the Christmas story is a salvation story. We’re narrated into the mind of a man trying to do the best he knows how to do. His betrothed is pregnant, and he’s not the father. This is enough to cause much anguish. To his credit, he doesn’t want to shame her, but the text doesn’t say that he bought into the pregnant by the Holy Spirit explanation when he first heard it either. It took an angel to stop him.

Thanks to the divine intervention, Joseph could hear things from another perspective. This perfectly timed conversation with the right person allowed him to. This wouldn’t be the great scandal that he feared, although obviously, people would talk. Mary was innocent. Her child was conceived of the Holy Spirit. It was true. All of this followed the plan in Isaiah 7:14. The Messiah was to be born, God would walk among His people, and Joseph was given a most privileged place in the salvation story.

The name of Jesus, given to Joseph when he was in doubt, is a name that’s so special to all who know Him. His name, if its meaning is understood, “YHWH is salvation,” is a statement that gives us strength. He is salvation; He will accomplish all He has promised. He will save us. He has saved us from our sin, our shame. Then, understanding what His name means can become a prayer. Lord save. It’s not some strange magic; there’s power in His name. Jesus is the Savior. Personally, as a rebellious twenty-something, I remember finding myself in a life-or-death situation, frightened to my core, beyond trembling. I had only one thought at that moment: the cry of my soul. Jesus, save me. And He did. It is powerful to call out to the Lord.

Decisions, Choices, and Actions

It touches my heart that Joseph received the Lord’s name at such a confusing moment. Life is often unknown, and decisions must be made. How often do the apparent choices we planned for take a sudden, unexpected turn that menace imminent disaster? The threat of public scorn paralyzes in any culture, but in a more shame-based one like first-century Galilee, this would be a terrible blow to the man and his family. The angel says beautifully, “Joseph, son of David, don’t be afraid to take Mary as your wife” (Matthew 1:20). Don’t be afraid, or as the TDNT says, the word translated fear is “ the primary verb phébomai, “to flee.”^[1] As emotion transforms into action, being startled and running away suggests “fear.”Joseph’s fears were real, and his proposed action of putting her away discreetly, though a noble, protective act in his time, was also an escape route.

The escape routes we take, while panicked or shamed, can lead us far from stability. At times, they make the most sense, but the long-term perspective reveals their folly. After all, who wants to bear the actual or imagined scorn we might face when our failings go public? The flight or fight instinct has served many during life-threatening danger. But what if the Lord steps into our story as He did for Joseph? What if He invites us to weather the storm because His plan, despite everything we know, will lead to His glory? This requires faith that cannot be blind; otherwise, it’s naïve at best or, at worst, presumption. Joseph was guilty of neither.

Joseph trusted the One who had been watching over his family for a thousand generations, the One who had promised a Savior. His name was to be called Jesus, “YHWH is salvation.” Sure, it was a common name, and sure, the child would blend in, but that was also the plan. Jesus was the name given, even graciously following the rabbinic tradition that the Messiah’s name would be known from all eternity.^[2] Joseph did as the angel said; he took Mary as his wife and named her firstborn Jesus.

The Name of Above Every Name

This name is the center of the salvation story. In Philippians 2:9, we read it’s the name above every name. And in Acts 4:12, it’s the name by which we must be saved. For us in the West, this Christmas season is quite uncertain; there seem to be more worries on a global scale than we knew even last year. Will we shrink back in fear of the unknown, seek an escape, or call on His name? Jesus remains the same.

Better than fleeing in times of trouble is being saved. Jesus truly saves. As Joseph resisted the temptation to put away his fiancée quietly, let’s not quietly put away our hope either. Jesus is the Savior, and we’ve yet to see how He will transform the bad into good this time. In the meantime, we have a statement and prayer every time we say His name. So come and let us adore Him.

References:

^[1] Theological Dictionary of the New Testament (TDNT), “Little Kittel” edited by Geoffrey W. Bromiley, Copyright © 1985 by William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company.
^[2] Donald A. Hagner, Matthew 1–13, vol. 33A of Word Biblical Commentary. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2000, 19.

For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich. (2 Corinthians 8:9)

Paul was in the middle of encouraging the Corinthian church to be generous when he drew their attention to the generosity of Christ. It’s an amazing statement, full of beautiful Christmastime truth. Today, let’s consider three things: the wealth Jesus abandoned, the poverty Jesus embraced, and the reason he made that choice.

The Wealth He Abandoned

First, let’s consider the wealth Christ abandoned. Paul said, “You know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich…” (2 Cor. 8:9). Though he was rich. What riches did Christ possess? How was he rich?

In a word, Christ had glory. Before he went to the cross, he prayed to God, “And now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had with you before the world existed” (John 17:5). Even the wealthiest people in the world should not be permitted to call their situation glory. Glory is a position reserved for God alone—the glory of the Father, Son, and Spirit. Glory is divine. Before Jesus came, as Paul said, “He was in the form of God” (Phil. 2:6). Glory.

In his glory, Christ had incredible and incomprehensible wealth. He had wealth of position—no one was more supreme than him. The Bible calls him “the firstborn over all creation,” meaning there is nothing in any galaxy that is his equal (Col. 1:15). He had wealth of possession—no one owned more than Jesus. The Bible says “all things were created through him and for him,” meaning every single thing belongs to him (Col. 1:16). He also had wealth of power—no one is as powerful as Jesus. The Bible says everything was made “through him “ and that “in him all things hold together,” meaning we would not even exist without the creative and sustaining power of Christ (Col. 1:16-17). And he had wealth of peace—none of us could comprehend the total love, joy, gladness, and peace found within the Triune God.

Position. Possessions. Power. And peace. All of them belonged to Jesus to an infinite and unmeasurable degree. You could combine all the wealth of Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, and Bill Gates, and it would pale in comparison to the wealth that belonged to Jesus. All the possessions and power and peace found among us are not even a fraction of what Jesus had because he had all of it in infinite quantity. This is what Paul meant when he said Jesus was rich.

The Poverty He Embraced

Second, let’s consider the poverty Christ embraced. Paul said, “yet for your sake he became poor” (2 Cor. 8:9). The word Paul chose could signify abject poverty; Christ embraced a beggarly existence on that first Christmas.

When we consider the poverty of Christ, it is easy to fixate on the impoverished nature of his birth, life, and death. He was not born like the wealthy of his age. And he certainly wasn’t born into the luxury of ours. Instead, he was born among stabled animals in an overcrowded Bethlehem. His first cradle was a borrowed feeding trough. He was wrapped, not in premium linen or a custom Esty sleep sack, but strips of cloth.

And then Jesus’ early years were spent as a refugee in Egypt. Warned by an angelic dream, Joseph likely used the gold, frankincense, and myrrh from the worshipping kings to evade the murderous desires of Herod. Fleeing by night, they remained on the run until Herod’s death.

And then Jesus’ private adult life was one of poverty. He lived in a rocky hillside town called Nazareth. Population? Maybe two hundred, and certainly less than five hundred. It seems he learned Joseph’s trade and became the town carpenter—hardly a wealthy existence.

And when Jesus’ public ministry life began, it leaned heavily on the generosity of others. He said, “Foxes have holes, birds have nests, but I have nowhere to lay my head” (Mat. 8:20). Poor.

But none of these elements of poverty are Paul’s point. He’s not focused on how poor Jesus was as a human. What he’s focused on is that Jesus became a man. So while we might think he had hardly anything and lived in such poverty, heaven’s vantage point is different. The great sacrifice wasn’t in becoming the poorest of men but in becoming a man in the first place! As Paul said, “He emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men”(Phil 2:7).

The very being who was there at the beginning of all things with Father God, God himself, the One who made all things and in whom life is found, the light of the world, he became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:1-4, 14). All the way to the point of death. The ultimate poverty.

And all of this was by choice. Paul said, “He became poor.” This indicates choice. He decided to take up humanity. And when he did, he became poor.

Becoming poor—going from wealth to poverty—is harder than knowing only poverty because your past wealth is a constant memory nagging at your current situation. But the most difficult of all is living in poverty while still being abundantly wealthy, choosing not to access the vastness of your riches so you can embrace the pain. No one does that. But Jesus did.

The Reason For His Choice

Lastly, let’s consider the reason for his choice. Why did he decide to do what he did? Paul said, “So that you by his poverty might become rich” (2 Cor. 8:9).

Why did Christ do what he did? Why did he abandon his wealth and embrace our poverty? It was all for us so that through his poverty, we might become wealthy.

Paul is alluding to the reason Christ came—his substitutionary death for us. Baby Jesus’ life was on a straight line to the cross. And that death, followed by his resurrection, would unlock a world of blessings for all who trust in him. By believing in Jesus, we become rich.

What wealth becomes ours in Christ? It’s the same wealth he abandoned when he came to us in the first place. Remember that wealth? Position. Possessions. Power. Peace. What do I mean?

We gain the wealth of position—God becomes our Father. He becomes our loving provider and guide and protector and friend. We are placed into Christ, and we become coheirs with Christ (Rom. 8:17). The Father sees us as he sees his only begotten Son.

We gain the wealth of possessions—in Christ, we have access to every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places (Eph. 1:3). And since this world belongs to him, we will one day inherit it when he returns. And, even now, since all things are through him and for him, he has given us all things to enjoy (1 Tim. 6:17).

We gain the wealth of power—in the sense that every principality and power was defeated at the cross of Christ, so now we have the resources we need to enter into victory over habits and tendencies that drag us down (Col. 3:13-15). He holds us together and gives us strength. We can overcome.

And we gain the wealth of peace—because of Jesus, we have the Spirit. The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal. 5:22-23). These elements—the peace of Christ—can rule our hearts today (Col. 3:15).

All these elements—and many more—became ours when Christ came into our lives. And 2 Corinthians 8:9 tells us that Jesus abandoned his wealth and embraced our poverty all so we could become rich. He placed us first. He loved us (John 3:16).

Conclusion

Last year, actor William Shatner of Star Trek fame briefly went into space in Jeff Bezos’s Blue Origin space shuttle, becoming the oldest living person to ever travel to space. In his book, he recounted the experience, stating that he was overcome with incredible sadness when confronted with the vastness and darkness of space and the warmth and smallness of earth.¹ They call it the “overview effect,” and apparently, it has happened to many astronauts over the years. On earth, we are confined within our borders and can easily dismiss the hardships in other nations or continents, but from space’s vantage point, war, hunger, and poverty become overwhelming.

And if that overview effect can be felt by finite beings, what must it be like for God? He can peer into every human heart. He has witnessed every act of evil. He has seen every abuse and heard every cry.

So what did he do? He denied himself the privileges of divinity, embraced the poverty of humanity, and, through his cross, made the way for us to become rich with him. On the cross, his human body consumed every act of evil, every abuse, and every cry. He became sin for us (2 Cor. 5:21). And as wrath was unleashed on him, he performed the greatest of rescue missions, becoming the poorest so that we might become the richest.

References:

For the past couple of years, Christmas trees seem to be appearing earlier and earlier. Not in the shops that want you to buy their stuff, but in the homes of regular people like you and me. It seems that people are watching Christmas movies, listening to Christmas music, and eating Christmas foods way earlier than ever before.

Why is that?

Is it a Bahrain-specific thing: I’m traveling soon but want to enjoy some Christmas cheer here before I leave? Perhaps … but there might be a bigger-picture reason.

When we decorate for Christmas, when we put up the tree and switch on the lights, what are we really doing? For some, it begins and ends there:

Decorating the home looks nice.

Twinkling lights look nice.

Mince pies taste nice.

Michael Bublé sounds nice.

For some, it’s very surface-level. It’s just … nice.

But, on a deeper level, when we put up the tree and switch on the lights, what are we really doing?

What we’re doing is turning our eyes and hearts and minds towards hope.

When we put up the tree and switch on the lights, we’re putting a (very) visual reminder in our homes and lives that something better is coming.

We’re telling ourselves that the lives we live in the here and now are not all that there is and all that there will ever be. We’re turning eyes and hearts and minds to hope:

The hope of a coming child, a son, through whom we can live a peace-filled life (Isaiah 9.6).

The hope of restoration to right relationship with God and the close and intimate fellowship this brings (Revelation 21.3).

The hope that there’s something, someone, bigger, greater, and above it all who loves you, cares for you, and stepped down into fallen creation to rescue you from it all (Philippians 2.5-11).

The last few years were strange, weren’t they?

They put us in situations of separation, of uncertainty, of anguish, and of heartache. At times like this, we need hope.

If we look to the world around us for hope, for encouragement, and for the reassurance that tomorrow will be better, then each and every year we may just end up putting the tree up a little bit earlier. Just think—if you’re having a bad year, maybe your tree will go up in the summer …

But, if we look only to Jesus for hope, for encouragement, and for the reassurance that tomorrow will be better, then we’ll be free to throw that tree up and switch on those lights whenever we want to because our hope is firmly rooted in the truth of the Word of God and the Word become flesh, Jesus.

So, when should we put up the tree and switch on the lights? I guess it depends on why you’re doing so. Thinking deeper and leaning harder on the truth of Jesus for your hope, encouragement, and reassurance this festive season, put that tree up whenever you like.

It’s amazing how different our modern Christmas is from what Mary and Joseph experienced. We have holiday sales, ugly sweater contests, family gatherings, Christmas lists, apple cider, gift wrapping, and all sorts of traditions we like to celebrate. And to be sure, I don’t believe there’s anything inherently wrong with these things. In fact, I look forward to many of them every year. But they do tempt us to miss the reality of the incarnation.

The First Christmas

That first Christmas was much different for Mary and Joseph than our version of Christmas. Most of us learn the traditional Christmas story about how Jesus was born in a manger, and we sing songs about it and view it in this romanticized light. But at the heart of this story is the reality that Mary and Joseph were poor, and as a result, Jesus was born into this world essentially homeless. When the God of the universe decided to clothe Himself in humanity and come into our world, He did so as poor, dirty, and homeless.

Luke tells us in his Gospel that when Joseph and Mary went to dedicate the baby Jesus in Jerusalem, they couldn’t afford what was considered the normal offering. Furthermore, in the vast wisdom and sovereignty of the Almighty, when He announces the birth of the Savior, He does so to shepherds. To give you some idea of how shepherds were viewed in Joseph and Mary’s society in those days, shepherd’s testimonies weren’t even accepted in a court of law. They were considered ceremonially unclean, cut off from the religious life of the people. They were marginalized and outcasts, essentially a voiceless and despised group.

The God of the universe chose to come into this world as part of the poor and homeless and marginalized. He chose to identify with those in such circumstances. The story of Jesus and His birth is the story of the impoverished and marginalized becoming an integral part of the most important event in human history. It’s the story of the Almighty condescending from His heavenly throne to intimately participate in the lives of the poor, dirty, and despondent. It’s the story of you and I. Regardless of our financial situations, we are the poor, dirty, and outcast. Sin has made us that way. The incarnation means the King of all kings has chosen to identify with us; He chose to enter our dirty, sin-infested world, to take upon Himself our poverty, all to lavish on us the riches of His heavenly kingdom.

Humanity: From Dust To Glory

Poverty and glory—this is the dichotomy that is woven throughout the incarnation and throughout humanity’s existence. When we celebrate Christmas, we are meant to be confronted with this reality. And not just in the sentimental “oh, that’s a warm thought” kind of way. We are meant to come face-to-face with the King of Glory, clothing Himself in the dirt and dust of humanity.

In Genesis 2:7, we are told that God created mankind from the dust of the ground: “And the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.” Poverty and glory. We were literally the dust of the ground until the living breath of God changed everything. Suddenly, we are given the unfathomable gift of becoming a living soul. But not just a living soul; we are given the glory of being His image bearers.

The original language for “breathed into” in Genesis 2:7 paints a telling picture. God didn’t just cause Adam to suddenly begin breathing. God got up-close, face-to-face, to give His own life breath to Adam (the way someone giving CPR uses their own breath to inflate the lungs of someone else). God leans into Adam’s lifeless body, nothing more than a clump of dirt, and transfers His eternal breath of life into Adam’s lungs. As Adam’s eyes open, the first thing he would have seen upon becoming a living soul would have been the face of his loving Creator looking back at him. The first thing Adam is aware of is God, and it is from this gazing into the face of God that Adam’s identity is formed. He was a true image bearer. Eventually, sin caused his gaze (and subsequently our gaze) to become self-focused, and as a result, mankind has stayed self-focused ever since.

The Incarnation: Rediscovering Who We Are

The incarnation is about God giving us back our identity. It is an opportunity for us to shift our gaze back into the loving eyes of our Creator. Everything about the birth, life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus has to do with God’s first interaction with Adam: that first moment when they looked each other in the eyes and man became an image bearer of his Creator. Why is God concerned with the outcast, the downtrodden, the voiceless, the hopeless, the marginalized? He is concerned because we are His image bearers. To bear His image is to embrace the reality of this dichotomy of poverty and glory.

We are nothing, made from the dust of the earth, yet God breathed His breath of life into us and made us His image bearers. The lowest of creation, literally dirt, suddenly becomes the image bearer of the only self-existent One. No other creature gets that privilege. Not animals or angels or powers or principalities. And the glory and honor of that privilege is not elevated nor diminished by our finances or social status or job title or worldly accomplishments or anything else. The more we realize our true poverty, the more we will realize our true importance and glory as His image bearers. But if we try to realize our true importance, our true identity, without acknowledging our true poverty, we will find neither identity nor glory.

The Path to True Image Bearing

When the God of the universe incarnated Himself and came into our world to show us once again what it means to be a true image bearer, He did so in such a way that we would be forced to reckon with this dichotomy of poverty and glory. The birth story of Jesus of Nazareth forces us to reckon with the fact that Jesus was born into poverty. The King of the universe, the One who created everything, embraced the full reality of the poverty of being human so that we might know and enjoy forever the full reality of the glory of being His image bearers.

In Genesis, the poverty of man in his state as simply dust particles is transcended by the importance and glory of the life imparted to him by the God of the universe. What once had little value, being merely the dirt of the ground, was suddenly and forever changed into the very reflection of the One who is of utmost prominence and importance. The value of the gift given to us is based on the value of the source from which it comes. We are His image bearers. When He came to earth, He came to show us what it means to be a true image bearer. He came to restore us to our intended position as His image bearers.

In my flesh I’m impoverished, simply the dust of the ground. But because of Jesus, I’m now the temple of the Holy Spirit, the very abode of the Living God, and I get the important privilege of reflecting Him to the world around me. The incarnation reminds us that He made our story His own story as well. At the heart of the Christmas story is the story of poverty and glory.

Advent Shows Us How to Wait with Expectancy

Sunday, December 3rd, marks week one of Advent, which is all about hope. Hope often looks like expectation, anticipation—while waiting. Waiting is central to hope. It’s easy to see this theme around Christmas time. Children everywhere wait with expectant anticipation for December 25th, for Santa, for presents. Every year, I recall a fond memory of my four-year-old daughter Scout yelling, “Christmas is my favorite Halloween!” Kids love (and hate) waiting, but they do so because they have hope.

Advent’s hope is woven throughout our Christmas hymns. In “O Come O Come Emmanuel,” we sing from the perspective of the Old Covenant Israelites, impersonating their hope for the long-expected king who the prophets said would come—soon. This theme is in the Scriptures’ telling of Jesus’ coming. When the Messiah finally came, Philip went to Nathanael and exclaimed, “We have found him of whom Moses in the Law and also the prophets wrote!” (John 1:45).

Perhaps the best example is Symeon, who lived his entire life with the hope that he would see the Messiah. We’re told that he was “waiting for the consolation of Israel,” having been told by the Holy Spirit that he wouldn’t die until the Messiah came. Holding the infant Jesus in his arms, Symeon declared his willingness to die, for finally, “my eyes have seen your salvation” (Luke 2:25-32). Symeon had waited for this moment his entire life, able to endure the “in-between” because he had hope.

Advent is a season where we learn to wait. Perhaps you’re waiting for something today. You’re between jobs, between decisions, between seasons of growth, between relationships—waiting for joy, waiting for success, waiting for salvation. How can we hold on to hope in the in-between?

A Little While

Jesus’ language for that in-between is the phrase “a little while.” In John 16, he tells his disciples that for “a little while, you will see me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see me” (John 16:16). He’s perhaps referring to the few days when he goes to the cross, dies, and is buried (scholars disagree on what “little while” Jesus is talking about). In any case, it’ll be a time of grief, sorrow, and painful waiting. That’s the in-between: the difficult, perilous, frustrating seasons of waiting. But afterward, they will see him again. The dead will rise. Hope will be fulfilled as “your sorrow will turn into joy” (v20). Here, Jesus offers hope to his disciples at their darkest hour. How will they get through the trauma of the next few days? Only by holding on to hope.

Fleming Rutledge explains that this pattern of hope in the in-between is what Advent is all about:

“Advent contains within itself the crucial balance of the now and the not-yet that our faith requires… [Between] the yearly frenzy of “holiday” time in which the commercial Christmas music insists that “it’s the most wonderful time of the year” and Starbucks invites everyone to “feel the merry.” The disappointment, brokenness, suffering, and pain that characterize life in this present world is held in dynamic tension with the promise of future glory that is yet to come. In that Advent tension, the church lives its life.“ (Fleming Rutledge, Advent: The Once and Future Coming of Jesus Christ).

The “Advent tension” that Rutledge mentions is what so many of us experience on a daily basis. It’s what our songs are about and the air Israel breathed for centuries. Waiting is an everyday reality on this side of resurrection. In order to hold on to hope, we must remember three things.

The In-Between is Necessary

The “little while” was necessary if Jesus was going to make a way to God. “Until now you have asked nothing in my name,” he explains. “Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full” (v. 24). Before the cross, “until now,” our relationship with God was based on nothing but promises and hope. By going to the cross, Jesus changed the relationship. Now, we approach God “in his name.” Jesus is helping his disciples understand that he had to leave them for a little while because by doing so, he secured our relationship with God.

Sometimes we don’t understand why God tarries or why promises take a long time to fulfill. We ask, “Why?” and wonder if we’re not wasting our time. But we can hold on to hope if we remember that these seasons of waiting are necessary. God is using them for our good. Peter relayed this lesson later in his letter:

“In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:6-7).

Frodo Baggins didn’t understand why he was tasked with the season of life he found himself in. “I wish it need not have happened in my time,” he tells Gandalf. Gandalf explains to Frodo that none of us understands the times we’ve been given, nor can we control the seasons we’re in. But, knowing these seasons are necessary, one thing we can do: “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” The in-between seasons of life are something God is using. But what is he using it for?

The In-Between is Formative

God uses the in-between seasons to form something beautiful in us. Notice the verb in Jesus’ promise: “You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy” (John 16:20). That turning is the process of spiritual formation. It’s the process of becoming like Christ as we learn to trust in him, believe his promises, and hold on to hope.

Admittedly, this process is a difficult one. Pain seems bad. We might try to ease the pain of migraine with Ibuprofen or endure the heartache of a breakup with a tub of ice cream and a night of Netflix. But have you noticed that not all pain is bad? The pain of grad school—that’s a good kind of pain, the kind that promises a career at the end of it. There’s the pain of practice that promises proficiency. The pain of physical labor brings with it the promise of a remodeled bathroom. Growing pains bring growth. Exercise brings health. Labor brings a child. As we sometimes say, “No pain, no gain.” The Gospel of Jesus extends that promise to the pain of suffering:

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” (James 1:2-4).

God uses painful trials, James says, to form something in us. This answers the common question, “What purpose could ever come from my sorrow? What blessing could ever come from my pain?” The answer is that God is forming you into someone who is patient, joyful, and full of hope. To be sure, this is a difficult process, one filled with mystery and unanswered questions. But equally sure is this: one day, “your sorrow will turn into joy.”

The In-Between is Worth It

The beautiful promise of the Gospel is that, soon and very soon, he will bring the in-between time to a swift end. We won’t even remember the pain. We will only see what God has done and rejoice. As Jesus explains, “So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you” (John 16:22). One day, the sorrow of the in-between will give way to the permanent joy of eternal life in the kingdom of God.

I remember going on vacation with our family to my father-in-law’s timeshare in Mexico. The kids were so excited. “We’re going to Mexico!” they screamed as we piled in the car, drove down I-5, and eventually arrived … at the airport. My kids were incensed. “Dad this is the airport, not Mexico! You lied to us!” I tried to explain that sometimes, getting to your destination includes a bunch of stops along the way. In order to get to Mexico, we had first to board a plane at the airport. Getting to where you’re going involves some amount of waiting in the in-between.

It’s those little stops, fits, and starts that make a trip feel like it’s taking forever. That’s the “in-between.” God promises to deliver on his promises to us, but sometimes, we have to stop at the airport first. In those times, we’re tempted to say, “God, you lied to us! This is the airport; I want to go to Mexico!” Instead, we need to remember that it’s just a little while.

Sit tight. Hold on.

Listen to God’s voice. Trust him.

We’ll be there soon.

Josephine Butler was considered an activist and a liberal during her lifetime. She grew up in England in the 19th century and campaigned against discriminatory laws against women. She also evangelized prostitutes and worked closely with the Salvation Army. She credited all she accomplished to the power she received daily from her active prayer life with the Lord.

Websites

• “Josephine Butler (1828-1906)” (https://hist259.web.unc.edu/josephinebutler/)
• “Josephine Butler” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Josephine_Butler)
• “International Abolitionist Federation” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_Abolitionist_Federation)
• “Josephine Butler (1828 – 1906)” (https://www.bbc.co.uk/history/historic_figures/butler_josephine.shtml)
• “Josephine Butler: The Victorian feminist who campaigned for the rights of prostitutes” (https://www.thehistorypress.co.uk/articles/josephine-butler-the-victorian-feminist-who-campaigned-for-the-rights-of-prostitutes/)

Videos

• “Josephine Butler and the Contagious Diseases Acts | Pioneering Women” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ActdEdujUdk)
• “Who was Josephine Butler?” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7vnZyjiTlBQ)

“So Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him.” (Hebrews 9:28, ESV)

Let’s talk about “Next Christmas”—but not the one 364 days from now. I want to talk to you about the next Advent, the second coming of Christ. Christmas, as we know, is a celebration of the first coming of Jesus. Humanity had waited a very long time for him to come, but come he did, and his life, death, and resurrection changed everything for us. And then he left—he ascended to the Father’s right hand in heaven, promising to come again!

And though I’m being a bit cute when I say “Next Christmas” (I know we don’t think of the second coming of Christ as a new version of Christmastime) on this day after Christmas, I think it would be good for us to consider the next time Jesus will come. Not everyone loves Christmastime. For some, it dredges up terrible memories of childhood abuses or hardships. For others, it reminds them of better times in their past. I don’t mean to bring up those memories, but I want to be a defender of those for whom Christmas is not all joy, cheer, and Christmas spirit. For some, it’s a season intermixed with hurts and sorrows.

But “Next Christmas”—the next coming of Christ—will be a joyful event for all of Jesus’ people. Young and old alike will rejoice at the coming of their King, the final and total end of sin and death, and the full dominance of Christ’s kingdom. If Christmas day is a happy occasion for you, you’ve had a glimpse of every day in Christ’s kingdom. It will be Christmastime all the time—the unfading joy of God’s presence.

“Next Christmas” Will Be Different

The above Bible verse (Hebrews 9:28) tells us that this “Next Christmas,” though there will be similarities, will be much different from Christmas as we know it. In both, Christ came and the kingdom of God advanced, but there will be differences.

A Different Purpose

One difference is the shift in purpose. Our text tells us that when Jesus came on the First Christmas, he came to bear the sins of many, to deal with sin (28). As we know, Jesus came the first time not to institute a warm holiday with beautiful traditions but to vanquish our great foe and obstacle to God. He came to deal with sin.

But when Jesus comes again, he will not come to deal with sin in that way. His second coming will be to save those who are eagerly waiting for him (28).

This terminology might be unsettling to some of you. We talk about trusting Christ, placing our faith in him and his gospel, and “being saved.” We might even ask, “Are you saved? Are they saved? Am I saved?” And the expectation is that those who have believed, those who are born again, are indeed saved. So how is it that Jesus’ second advent will be the moment he brings salvation? Hasn’t he already brought salvation?

The answer is that at his second coming, our salvation will be complete, come to fruition, and be our lived experience. Our salvation, like the kingdom of God, is already here, but not yet our full reality. As Paul said:

“From (heaven) we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.” (Philippians 3:20)

Yes, in his first coming, Jesus bore the sins of many, but in his second coming, he will arrive to save his own.

A Different Connection

And the connection he will make with his people will be different at this “Next Christmas.” What I mean is that Christmas is a time to remember the incarnation, that God became one of us, like us. But if Jesus made himself like us in his first coming, in his second coming, he will make us like himself. As John wrote:

“Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.” (1 John 3:2)

One of the glories of Christmastime is the truth that God knows our pain. He stepped into this mess and experienced our hurt for us and with us. His first coming didn’t automatically delete humanity’s pain—it still very much exists—but made a way to eventually escape our pain, to find a renewed world and creation. And at his next coming, Christ will put off all the terrible ramifications of sin and death.

“When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: ‘Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?'” (1 Corinthians 15:54-55)

So this “Next Christmas” will be entirely different in many ways from the first.

Eagerly Wait For “Next Christmas”

This Next Christmas is worth eagerly waiting for; we should greatly anticipate the Second Advent of Christ. And our text tells us that Jesus will save those who are eagerly waiting for him (28). This statement is not a condition—Jesus isn’t going to bring salvation to everyone whose personal excitement for him is at a specific level. This statement is a description—the author of Hebrews expects all legitimate Christians to crave his return and the full dominance of his kingdom that will come with him.

Waiting

This eager waiting is a common attribute of New Testament Christianity. Paul said we await our Savior from heaven (Philippians 3:20). He also said we “wait for God’s Son from heaven” (1 Thessalonians 1:10). He spoke about those who have loved Christ’s appearing and are waiting for their blessed hope (2 Timothy 4:8, Titus 2:13). Peter said we are “waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God” (2 Peter 3:12). Romans tells us that we who have the Spirit living in us are groaning with creating for our full adoption as God’s children, the redemption of our bodies (Romans 8:23). These are a small sampling of New Testament descriptions of our eager desire for Christ’s Next Christmas.

It’s not that we can’t enjoy life today—we can! You don’t have to be disgusted and tired of everything about life right now. It’s that all the things believers like about life today will be better and magnified in Christ’s kingdom. We like the beauty of relationships, creativity, and culture. We like love and joy and peace. We like goodness and kindness and friendship. We like ingenuity and righteous leadership and justice. All these elements will be found in perfection in Christ’s kingdom. So even if you aren’t looking to the sky for Christ’s arrival, if you are born again, you likely crave his coming, even if you don’t express it in so many words.

How To Wait For Next Christmas

But I do want to encourage you to set your hope on the next coming of Christ. We do not know which earthly Christmas will be our last. What if all of us knew we had just celebrated our last traditional Christmas and that Christ was about to return for us? How would you live this next year of your life? What changes would you make?

Those changes are part of eagerly waiting for him. We are to do more than emotionally anticipate this Next Christmas. We are to prepare for it.

I cannot imagine what yesterday would have been like had I not prepared for it. It took planning and work to get a Christmas tree, light up the house, and purchase gifts. If I had woken up yesterday morning without gifts wrapped and under the tree, the day would not have been all that great for me. Instead, because I prepared, I was ready to experience the day to the fullest.

And I hope we can carry this attitude into the second coming of Christ. I hope it isn’t a day that catches us empty-handed, but one where we’re satisfied with the way we spent our lives in preparation for Christ’s kingdom. Perhaps there are rhythms and routines we should change in anticipation of his coming kingdom. Just as we prepared for yesterday, so we should prepare for his return.

So what are some ways to wait well for this Next Christmas? Perhaps we can derive some ways to prepare for his coming by thinking about the ways we often prepare for Christmas:

1. Plan For It

One way we prepare for Christmastime is by planning. Many of us set aside money we will use to purchase gifts and decorations and ugly Christmas sweaters. Many of us create space in our garages for Christmas lights and ornaments for the tree. And many of us get out our calendars to plan various Christmas parties and traditions attached to the season.

We can do the same for Christ’s coming. We can plan lives that align with him and his values. We can strategically use our time and energy and resources for the things of God. Disciple-making takes discipline and planning, strategy and thought.

2. Share Christ

Another way we prepare for Christmastime is by saying “Merry Christmas” to people. Can you imagine saying “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays” to someone in June? It’s only because we are nearing Christmas that we begin saying such things.

So we should prepare for Christ’s coming by alerting people to the gospel. Look for strategic relationships whereby you can introduce Christ. Tell people what Jesus has done for and meant to you. See your work as a way to witness to his faithfulness. Be so thoroughly submitted to your King today that someone might wonder about your kingdom.

3. Worship And Prayer

Another way we prepare for Christmastime is by singing and listening to songs that are connected to this important season. If I never heard another rendition of “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” I would be a happy man, but I’m going to miss our true Christmas carols all year long. “Silent Night,” “Away in a Manger,” “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing”—all these songs refresh us in the glory of Christmas and connect us to Christ’s beauty and majesty.

And we can prepare for this Next Christmas by singing and praying to our Lord. He is worthy, and we will realize his worth for all eternity. Singing to him with our whole mind, soul, and body will be part of our heavenly reality. So when we take time to energetically and passionately praise him today, we are tuning our hearts to his kingdom. Times of worship are important, and we must invest ourselves in this important activity.

4. Christian Community

Another way we prepare for Christmastime is by celebrating Christmas traditions with those we love. Our family takes a night to go to a local neighborhood called Candy Cane Lane together every Christmas season. We are far removed from the days when we were blown away by the decorations there—we’ve seen them all plenty. But it’s a great excuse for us to be with those who are important to us.

And in preparing for this Next Christmas, we should develop Christian community. I didn’t say “community with Christians.” Community with Christians looks very similar to community with anyone—the only difference is that the people present all tick the “Christian” box. But Christian community centers itself upon the gospel, engages in Christian practices like prayer or exhortation, and urges everyone in the community towards growth in Christ. I think too many of us have settled for versions of community where everyone shares the same views, but without any action. True Christian community, however, will change you.

5. With Patience

Another way we prepare for Christmas is with patience. You must wait to give and receive your presents. No one can make December 25th come any quicker. It comes when it comes.

So it is with our preparation for Christ’s return. We must patiently wait for his kingdom. Many of the things we want—peace, justice, righteousness—are coming with Christ. We get snippets of them today, but we must patiently wait for his kingdom to come and his will to be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Merry Christmas.

Part 3 of 3

* This article is adapted from a series of papers written for Western Seminary.

To recap the previous articles in this series, while acknowledging that the primary focus of the incarnation is upon the Son of God putting on flesh, being born in Bethlehem, and being given the name foretold by the angel Gabriel as Yeshua, the rescuer of Israel, this three-part Advent series seeks to also acknowledge that this act of Jesus’ incarnation is a harmonious activity with implementations involving all three Persons of the Godhead.

My intention is to present the Advent by focusing on the Holy Spirit’s activity in the nativity story. It is important to recognize that the Holy Spirit is present in the incarnation, ministry, and resurrection of the Son. In each implement of the Father’s plan of redemption, it is the Spirit that empowers and reveals what the Son is accomplishing. It is through the eternal Spirit that Christ offered Himself without blemish to God (Heb. 9:14 CSB). Therefore, it is fitting to see how the Spirit operates also in the complete nativity story. My goal is to do just that by focusing on the Spirit’s activity in terms of prophetic pronouncement, conception, announcement and reception, and finally, illumination.

Prophetic Pronouncement

The Holy Spirit’s involvement in the incarnation was not one of unique character to Himself nor was it an act that went against His characteristics. The Holy Spirit’s first revelatory illumination to us concerning Himself is His participation with Father and Son in the creation of all things. The same Spirit that hovered over the chaotic waters during creation’s coming into existence through the Word of God is the same Spirit that gives life to flesh and anoints the Son of God in the flesh for His particular office as Messiah. As Christopher J.H. Wright explains, “He is the Spirit who anointed the kings, and ultimately anointed Christ the Servant-King. And he is the Spirit through whom the whole creation will finally be renewed in, through and for Christ.”^[1] Therefore this act of prophetic pronouncement of what He will do in the conception of Jesus in Mary’s womb throughout the centuries through the prophets is consistent with His creative and life-sustaining character. Isaiah 61:1 is an example of this consistency. The Spirit of YHWH is upon Isaiah and has anointed him to prophetically declare the Gospel coming. The broken will be healed, the captives will be liberated, and the prisoners will receive their freedom.

This consistency of the Spirit’s character to not only pronounce this but to fulfill it through the Messiah Jesus is a powerful one. Therefore, it is simple consistency that Jesus returns from His temptation in the wilderness full of the power of the Spirit to then preach the prophecy of Isaiah’s words in Isaiah 61, as fulfilled in His Personhood. Jesus taught us that one of the primary characteristics of the Spirit is that He comes to convict the world about sin and righteousness. Sin and righteousness are in a way the example of humanity, sin representative of the first Adam, and righteousness representative of the second Adam: Jesus Christ. The Holy Spirit knows perfectly both sides. Christ and His righteousness being the answer to our loss in sin.

The prophets understood this as well. During the time of the prophet Micah, false prophets were proclaiming an ease of sin and a false righteousness. The answer from Micah was the filling of the Spirit to bring cleansing truth: “As for me, however, I am filled with power by the Spirit of the LORD, with justice and courage, to proclaim to Jacob his rebellion and to Israel his sin.” (Mic. 3:8). However, the prophetic word finalizes in the promise of compassion and that one day the iniquities of the nations will be vanquished and all of our sins will be cast into the depths of the sea. Who will do this? The incarnate Son of God.

Conception

The life-giving Spirit is given the privilege of harmoniously and supernaturally conceiving Jesus in the womb of Mary. There are two facets understood in Scripture that occur that are not mutually exclusive but are both expressions of the Trinity. First, the Holy Spirit will come upon you. Second, the Most High will overshadow you. There is mystery in the execution of this act that Scripture simply does not reveal. However, the term “overshadow” has connection to the presence of God over the Tabernacle and the Temple. I. Howard Marshall, in the New Bible Commentary, explains “The description is reminiscent of the glory of God coming to rest upon the Tabernacle (Ex. 40:35). Overshadow is not a euphemism for ‘beget’: the language does not indicate any kind of sexual intercourse between God and Mary.”^[2]Once this occurs, it seems as if the Holy Spirit is directly connected to the narrative of Jesus all the way to Pentecost with the continuation of His ministry.

Matthew records it this way: “What has been conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.” (Matt. 1:20). Frederick Dale Bruner reflects that this work involves two major acts, stating, “The Spirit brings Christ down to earth and makes Him human (as here and in 1 John 4); second, the Spirit lifts Christ up and shows Jesus’ divinity. In other words, the Holy Spirit is a good theologian and gives two main courses: The True Humanity of Jesus Christ the first semester, and the The True Divinity of Jesus Christ the second. It is the work of the Holy Spirit, in either course, to bring Jesus Christ into human lives. ‘Into’ is the key preposition for the work of the Spirit.”^[3]

Announcing and Receiving

The next occurrence of the Holy Spirit in the incarnation story is the presence of the Spirit in announcing the coming birth of the Messiah through the leaping of John the Baptist in his mother’s (Elizabeth’s) womb. According to Luke 1:41, Elizabeth hears the voice of Mary, and immediately the Holy Spirit fills her. Through that filling, Elizabeth receives the word of knowledge through the Spirit that Mary is carrying the Messiah. As evidence of the Spirit’s presence, John the Baptist leaps for joy in his mother’s womb. From here it seems Mary is moved to worship the Lord in prophetic song, a song reminiscent of Hannah’s song in 1 Samuel 2. The song is not quiet or reflective but is again representative of the Spirit’s consistent message of redemption from sin and judgement against the proud, mighty, and the rich. This consistent message of judgment over sin and eventual righteousness imparted upon the forgiven has a dominating quality.

This revelatory announcement from the Spirit continues through Jesus’ birth into His circumcision rite in encountering the elder Simeon. This elder has the marks of a prophet and is described not only as righteous and devout, but specifically: “… and the Holy Spirit was on him.” (Luke 2:16). The Holy Spirit is mentioned three times in the narrative concerning Simeon’s life and activity: The Holy Spirit was upon him, The Holy Spirit gave him a promise concerning his witness of the Messiah, and he was guided by the Spirit into the Temple. Even this case presents a rarity concerning a simple, faithful elder living in Jerusalem, and not a high religious leader of the day. Again, consistent with the Holy Spirit’s message since the fall of man, Simeon’s spirit-filled song announces that this boy’s act of redemption will not only affect Israel, but all of the world, fulfilling the Abrahamic covenant of all nations being blessed: “A light for the revelation to the Gentiles and glory to your people Israel.” (Luke 2:32).

Illumination

Finally, the beauty of Jesus’ incarnation through the Spirit is that we are finally given the privilege of illuminative witness to the Trinity themselves. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians beautifully accounts that this work of adoption for all who believe has always been a harmonious activity of the Trinity together. The Father has chosen us, the Son has purchased us, and the Spirit has sealed us by the gospel of salvation, in which we have believed. Paul writes, “The Holy Spirit is the down payment of our inheritance, until the redemption of the possession, to the praise of his glory.” (Eph. 1:1-14).

Malcolm B. Yarnell explains it in this way, “God the Father is the originating subject of the blessing; the Lord Jesus Christ is the active eternal agent that brings the blessing into history through the incarnation and the cross; and the Holy Spirit is the blessing made continually present to humanity. Where the metaphysical hymn of Ephesians 1 demonstrates the descent of divine grace, Ephesians 2:18 demonstrates the ascent of humanity to God … Incorporated with Christ and indwelt by the Holy Spirit, the new humanity is brought before the Father. ‘For through him [Jesus Christ; v. 13] we both have access in one Spirit to the Father’. Ephesians 1:3–14 evinces both the descent of blessing from God and the ascent in glory to God.”^[4]

Holistically Presenting the Incarnation and Nativity Story

In conclusion, if the three Persons of the Trinity are harmoniously involved in the creation, redemption, and consummation of all things, then we are charged as shepherds and teachers to holistically present the incarnation and the Christmas story as a harmonious Trinitarian act as well. We have access to the blessing of illumination as we invest in a more trinitarian perspective as we preach. Consequently, a broader trinitarian perspective leads us to preach even more. Specifically, when we focus on the activity of the Spirit, and we make obedient action concerning a deeper submission to His present active work in our lives, we find we preach Christ more authentically, because the Spirit proclaims the ultimate work of Jesus as being one that brings glory to the Father. Ultimately, it is the Spirit that bears witness of Jesus as John the Gospel writer attests, and He will take what is Christ’s and declare it to us. We simply need to have our ears open to hear and be illuminated (Jn. 16:14).

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References

^[1] Christopher J.H. Wright, Knowing God Through the Old Testament (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2014 ), Kindle Edition, 412.
^[2] I. Howard Marshall, “Luke” in New Bible Commentary: 21st Century Edition, 4th ed., ed. D. A. Carson et al. (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1994), 982.
^[3] Frederick Dale Bruner, Matthew: A Commentary Volume 1: The Christbook Matthew 1-12 (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans Publishing, 2007), 27.
^[4] Malcolm B. Yarnell, God the Trinity: Biblical Portraits (Nashville: B&H Publishing Group, 2016 ), Kindle Edition.

Part 2 of 3

* This article is adapted from a series of papers written for Western Seminary.

Continuing this three-part celebration of Advent, this article centers around the coming of the Son of God in the flesh—the redemptive plan of God the Father accomplished through the working of the Holy Spirit. Specifically, my intention is to focus on the involvement of the Son, the second Person of the Trinity. As a result, we will better understand the means of our justification as well as the pattern we can follow toward sanctification and formation.

The Incarnation

While debated by some—(The ancient Arians asserted that Jesus wasn’t equal with the Father, and the modern Jehovah’s Witnesses and Muslims make similar claims)—the doctrine of the Trinity, at its core, asserts that Jesus is as much divine as is the Father, with both sharing the sovereign will, power, and authority that belong to God alone. As a result, the doctrine of the Trinity asserts that the one who came forth from Mary in human flesh was, in the language of the Nicene Creed, “very God,” not some lesser divine being, or a would-be God-in-the-making. Unless Jesus is one with the Father, He can’t really be Emmanuel and the doctrine of the Trinity provides the core root that supports and sustains the season we celebrate as Advent. As Douglas Wilson explains it in God Rest Ye Merry: Why Christmas is the Foundation for Everything,

Christ came to “ransom captive Israel” and to “disperse the gloomy clouds of night.” In our insolence, we were “doomed by law to endless woe” and were necessarily and justly consigned to “the dreadful gulf below.” But this darkness we had created was invaded by the heavenly host, “Rank on rank the host of heaven spreads its vanguard on the way,” and the night above the shepherds lit up as though a lightening bolt had refused to go out, had refused to stop shining. The road was weary, but now we may urge others to “rest beside the weary road, and hear the angels sing.” We needed this salvation just as He gave it. “O Savior, King of glory, who doest our weakness know.” The God who knows our frame timed it perfectly.^[1]

Immanuel, God with Us

While the incarnation is an event that encompasses the entirety of the Trinitarian community, it is most profoundly an event that concerns the second Person of the Trinity: God the Son. The Father and the Spirit are active in the sending of the Son, but the Son alone is changed, humbled or “incarnated.” The English word incarnation comes from the Latin caro: “flesh,” so the Christmas event is the “en-flesh-ment” of God. This is the teaching of the New Testament at several key points. For example, Matthew 1:23 states, “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel (which means, God with us)” (ESV). Here we see the redemptive plan, which was prophesied in the days of the prophets, has come to pass. The virgin is bringing forth a male child, and this child shall be called God with us!

There are many stories of unlikely and miraculous births throughout the lives of the patriarchs and Old Testament saints, but each of those surprising and miraculous pregnancies resulted in an ordinary child being born. This was often a child who ended a lifetime of barrenness for the mother, and who would often go on to be a notable character in the following chapters—but an ordinary, human child nevertheless, with strengths and weaknesses, flaws and virtues, just like every other boy or girl on the playground. But there is something different and notable about THIS miraculous birth. This child shall be called Immanuel, which means God with us. The introduction of Jesus in the opening chapter of the New Testament makes it clear that He is God, enfleshed. John 1:14 states, “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

The Word, Logos

The beginning of John’s gospel reaches back to the beginning and speaks of the Word (Logos), who is with God, and yet is God Himself as well. Jack Kilcrease writes, “John begins his Gospel by stating that Jesus is God’s eternal Word, who created the universe (John 1:1–2). The Word is the self-expression of God, His active force in the world.”^[2] In the beginning He spoke and the world existed. As Psalm 33:6 reveals, “By the word of the Lord the heavens were made, and by the breath of his mouth all their host.” And Psalm 107:20 reveals, “He sent out His word and healed them, and delivered them from their destruction.”

For us today, words are an essential part of our communication. (Not all communication is verbal, but a lot of it is!) Autism parents often use the phrase “use your words” in an attempt to help silent neuroatypical children express to the outside world what is going on in their secret interior mind. Likewise, God’s Words are expressions to others revealing what His interior life is like. In time, the Word became incarnate and dwelt among humanity allowing them to behold the glory of God. My seminary professor Gerry Breshears explains it like this: “The Logos is one of the strongest arguments for the deity of Jesus as the personal, eternally existing creator of the universe, distinct from yet equal with God the Father, who became incarnate (or came in the flesh) to demonstrate His glory in grace and truth to reveal life and light to men.” ^[3]

Fully God, Fully Man

For the second Person of the Trinity, the events of Christmas were deeply experiential, with real and profound implications on His life, from that point onward. He left the comforts and adoration of heaven to become a human with all the accompanying frailties and limitations. He was born into a country, culture, and people. He was born into a family and subculture, thus destined to wear the same clothes that everyone else wore and participate in the same traditions. He ate and slept. In short, He became one of us. Not God masquerading as a person, but Jesus dwelling bodily. As Breshears puts it, “Therefore, by incarnation we mean that the eternal second person of the Trinity entered into history as the Man Jesus Christ.”^[4]

How could God become a man? The Heidelberg Catechism summarises the incarnation in these words: “The eternal Son of God, who is and remains true and eternal God, took upon himself true human nature from the flesh and blood of the virgin Mary, through the working of the Holy Spirit” which is based on the truths of the Chalcedonian Creed. The Chalcedonian Creed states that Jesus Christ is “truly God and truly man, of a rational soul and body; coessential with the Father according to the Godhead, and consubstantial with us according to the manhood; in all things like unto us, without sin.” In sum, the creed declares that Jesus Christ in one person with two natures (human and divine) who is both fully God and fully man.

The change implicit in the incarnation (as mentioned above) was not a change of subtraction, but of addition. Augustine puts it succinctly when he writes that the second Person of the Trinity “was made what He was not, without losing what He was. The man therefore was added to the God, that He might be man who was God, but not that He should now henceforth be man and not be God.”^[5] How should this effect us today? Chiefly and foremostly, the coming of Jesus is to deliver sinners from judgement and to establish His kingdom on earth. The hymn “Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus” poetically summarizes it in this way:

Born Thy people to deliver,
born a child and yet a King,
born to reign in us forever,
now Thy gracious kingdom bring.

Unparalleled Humility, Then and Now

In addition to the rescuing of sinners and the establishment of His kingdom, His birth, way of life, and even the manner of His death are exemplary for Christians. Jesus exemplified unparalleled humility in lowering and emptying Himself of the comforts, power and glory of the independent exercise of His divine attributes in exchange for a life of humility. Philippians 2:5-11 describes the cascading levels of lowering and humility that Christ underwent in order to accomplish His mission: coming as a human, and not only that, but as a serving human. Then He comes to die, and not only that, but even death on the cross! Paul uses this example to call Philippian Christians to a humble lifestyle and to develop habits of preferring others above self. As Breshears states, “In his incarnation, the Creator entered into his creation to reveal God to us, identify with us, and live and die for us as our humble servant.”^[6] The humble incarnation of God the Son has provided the means by which we are justified and sets a pattern for our sanctification and formation as well. In humility we were saved, and in humility we should follow in His footsteps.

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References

^[1] Douglas Wilson, God Rest Ye Merry: Why Christmas is the Foundation for Everything (Moscow, ID: Canon Press, 2012), 15-16.
^[2] Jack Kilcrease, “Jesus’ Incarnation,” in Lexham Survey of Theology, ed. Mark Ward et al. (Bellingham: Lexham Press, 2018).
^[3] Gerry Breshears and Mark Driscoll, Doctrine: What Every Christian Should Believe (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 2010), 214.
^[4] Breshears and Driscoll, Doctrine, 20.
^[5] Augustine, “Tractates on the Gospel of John, Tractate 21” https:/www.newadvent.org/fathers/1701021.htm.
^[6] Gerry Breshears and Mark Driscoll, Doctrine: What Every Christian Should Believe (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 2010), 231.