Devotional Reflections on Christmas
I want to share my love for the season of Christmas. My focus will be upon the important message it contains. I want to explore that message and help us at least try to experience it in such a way that it may help us live with increased love for God and others.
Christmas is not simply about comfort. It contains a challenge. For example, without exception, everyone in the Christmas story to whom an angel appears is a nobody.
First, an angel speaks to John’s father, Zechariah. Now, Zechariah does happen to be a priest — a position of some influence — but he’s not the high priest. Zechariah’s hardly a mover or shaker in that society. He’s more like a country parson.
Next, an angel appears to Mary: a poor, peasant girl, a person of low social status. “Greetings, favored one!” the angel says to her. Mary’s never been addressed that way in her life! “Favored one?” What favor is there in being a girl of maybe 14, whose only lot in life is to be betrothed by her parents to a man she barely knows, then live the rest of her days hauling water, baking bread, beating wet laundry on the rocks down by the stream, and bearing her husband’s children? Yet, it is to none other than Mary that the angel comes. Mary — not some jewel-bedecked princess in an opulent palace — is the favored one, in God’s eyes.
Next, a whole company of angels appears, en masse, to a gaggle of shepherds on a hillside outside Bethlehem. Shepherds, in that culture, are more than only common folk. They are the castoffs, the day laborers, the riffraff. Other, more respectable folk looked on them with disdain and distrust. Who would be the contemporary equivalents today … the shepherds of our society? To whom would the angels sing, were they to appear today? As for us, we would more than likely be the good citizens of Bethlehem, those respectable ones who locked their doors when they heard the voice of some poor transient out in the street, shouting something about his wife being pregnant, and needing a place — any place — for her to deliver her baby.
The Incarnation tells us who we are. Henry Van Dyke once offered these reflections on Christmas.
Are you willing to forget what you have done for others and to remember what others have done for you, to ignore what the world owes you and to think what you owe the world, to stoop down and consider the needs of little children ... If so, then you can keep Christmas. And if you keep it for a day, why not always?
These are nice reflections. The reason we cannot keep Christmas always is quite simple. We are not angels.
Who are we? Are we that wonderful? Is our town that wonderful? Let us face it; we are not angels, you and I. Angels do not need help. We need help.
At this time of year, we hear the same story line repeatedly. Somebody who appears at the beginning of the movie to have problems is revealed, by the end of the movie, to be a wonderful person after all. In "Home Alone," the boy meets an embittered elderly man, who turns out to have a soft heart for children. In "It's a Wonderful Life," Jimmy Stewart turns out to be wonderful, the whole town is wonderful, even the bank. We are not those whom Christmas TV extravaganzas present us. You can cover us with snow, you can attempt to conceal our clamor behind the soft notes of a choir, but we are not angels. On the other hand, maybe the reasons such stories are popular is that there is a part of us that is like Scrooge, and that part of us need conversion. The good news of Christmas, the whole gospel event, is that the Son has not come to help angels. That is what the Son did in coming to us in Bethlehem. The Son came to where we lived, the world we had sullied with our sin, and dwelt among us to give us the help we need. When we peer into the manger, we see our face, a human face. God comes to stand with us, as one of us, so that we might become those God intended us to be. We are not angels. We cannot sail up to God. We cannot climb that high, human as we are. So, one night at Bethlehem, God came to us, became one of us, to save us.
Just as Matthew and Luke are telling us a story of that Incarnation, we may need to tell a story as well. As Luke records poetry to express the significance of this event, we need to do so as well. Some truths will find expression only in these ways.
Given how the text portrays the birth of Jesus, I have come across a modern story of the danger contained within out of wedlock births. He is a Roman Catholic priest who would eventually become a monk in the desert of North Africa. As a Christian, he lived among the Arabs. He was working as a meteorologist in the area. In this way he could unite his daily tasks with huge silences and extended periods of prayer. He was particularly fond of the Tuaregs who lived in tents. As he traveled he would often stay with them after his work was done. Quite by chance, he discovered a girl in the camp who was betrothed to a boy in another camp. She had not gone to live with him because she was too young. In his mind he linked this with the betrothal of Mary and Joseph in our text. Two years later he returned to the camp. Wanting to make conversation, he asked if the marriage had taken place. There was an awkward silence. People were embarrassed. He did not pursue the subject then, but later that night he asked one of the servants of the chief the reason for the silence. The servant looked cautiously around. He trusted Carretto as a man of God, so he trusted him with the answer. The servant made a well-known Arab sign, passing his hand under his chin, indicating that her throat had been cut. The reason? Before the wedding it was discovered the girl was pregnant and the honor of the betrayed family required this sacrifice. She was killed because she was not faithful to her future husband.[1]
Christmas is such a unique idea. I realize that some religions have come to think that the idea that God could become one of us is so strange as to border on idolatry. However, I also think that many people who may not be Christians think that it would be quite a good thing, if it happened. Many people question whether God loves humanity that much. They can point to war, brutality, and violence, and suggest that these harsh human realities suggest that God does not love us very much. However, even the non-Christian must admit that if God exists, it would be quite a wonderful thing for God to become one of us, experiencing human life as one of us, experiencing the world in all its wonder and misery, even as God has created it.
If Christmas is the anniversary of the appearance of the Lord of the Universe, it is quite a day. It is a startling idea. Theologians are so uncomfortable with it that many no longer want to deal with the possibility that this baby is unique, the presence of God, the second person of the Trinity. However, if God did do this, we must admit that God provided us with some profound insight into ourselves.
People are afraid of God. If you read the Old Testament, you discover that people feared that the world of the divine might invade this world of sight and overwhelm it. One cannot stand in the presence of God, and still live. However, everyone has seen babies. Everyone likes them. So, if God wanted to be loved, God made quite a smart move in becoming one of us, even from birth. If God wanted to know people, God made quite a wonderful move here, for a baby growing up learns all one can know about people. If God wanted to be intimately a part of humanity, the experience of birth and family is the most intimate and precious experience we have.
None of this is logical. One bishop called this a divine insanity. It is either falsehood, or it is the truest thing in the world. It is the story of the great innocence of God as a baby. In fact, it is such a dramatic shot at the heart that, if it is not true, then for us, nothing is true.
Even if you did not get your shopping all done, and you were swamped with the commercialism and frenzy, be at peace.
Even if you are the choir director and other musicians who have to be up for so many special services, be at peace.
Even if you are a pastor, who knows that many people come during this time of year, and the pressure is on to be at your best, be at peace.
The story still stands as a witness to what God has done in Jesus, as God became one with us.
Frankly, I do not become too upset with people paying extra attention to Jesus at this season of the year when they do not throughout the year. You see, this year, they will hear the Christmas story, they will hear the music, they will hear a message, and this year, unlike other years, it might take.
The God who once deigned to take on mortal flesh can, we should trust, still invade our present-day, fleshly, flashy, earthly Christmas in all its commotion. There is much to be said for Christian efforts to "put Christ back in Christmas." Congregations singing Christmas hymns and pastors preaching Christmas sermons do exactly that. But even as the faithful stubbornly keep Christ in Christmas, we do well to remember that Christ has long done a remarkably decent job of keeping Christ in Christmas.[2]
Christmas is a celebration of the gift God has given us. What shall we do with this gift? The way we live our lives each day will be our answer.
Most pastors have learned to be sensitive to the differing ways people move through the Christmas season. The message of this season includes the notion that we are not alone. God is with us. yet, many people feel alone during this season. Loneliness of emotional isolation and the lack of an intimate emotional attachment is a bitter one, especially to a spouse, is a bitter one. The loneliness of social isolation, the lack of friends, community, and social networks, is also a bitter experience. The desolation of loneliness seems to heighten during this season, since externally, sociality seems to abound.
Shakespeare has a powerful reflection in Hamlet.
“Some say that ever ’gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long;
And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,
The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallowed and so gracious is the time.”
(I, ii, 157)
So hallowed and so gracious is the time — these lines from the first scene of Hamlet in a sense say it all. On the dark battlements of Elsinore, Marcellus speaks to his companions of the time of Jesus’ birth. It is a hallowed time, he says, a holy time, a time in which life grows still like the surface of a river so that we can look down into it and see glimmering there in its depths something timeless, precious, other. And a gracious time, Marcellus says — a time that we cannot bring about as we can bring about a happy time or a sad time but a time that comes upon us as grace, as a free and unbidden gift. Marcellus explains that Christmas is a time of such holiness that the cock crows the whole night through as though it is perpetually dawn, and thus for once, even the powers of darkness are powerless. For a moment or two, the darkness of disenchantment, cynicism, doubt, draw back at least a little, and all the usual worldly witcheries lose something of their power to charm. We might not manage to believe with all our hearts. But if the moments last, we can believe that this is of all things the thing most worth believing. And that may not be as far as it sounds from what belief is. For as long as the moment lasts, that hallowed, gracious time.[3]
Among the concerns of many devout Christians is the commercialization of this season. Given that Christmas arose from a parallel with pagan spring celebrations and a desire to incorporate them with Christian themes, the Christian and non-Christian nature of the celebration of Christmas has been present from the beginning. I would like to offer a few suggestions regarding the contemporary concern with commercialization.
The fact that Christmas has everywhere and from its beginnings combined the sacred with secular is theologically fitting. The Christian Christmas is an annual liturgical affirmation of the doctrine of the incarnation, the bold assertion that in Jesus Christ, God has invaded human time and space. So, it was that in the 4th and 5th centuries, the God who took on flesh invaded that bawdy Roman Saturnalia with its feasting and its roll-reversals and infused it with Christ. Christmas feasting became an affirmation of the generosity of the Creator and goodness of the creation. Social roles were still reversed, but in a new way as the child born to peasants in a stable became the Sovereign of Heaven and Earth, great gift-bearing Magi from the East kneeling at the feeding trough where he lay. The God who took on flesh likewise invaded Aurelian's Sol Invictus, the "unconquered sun," and injected Christ, "the true Light which enlightens everyone." In the early Middle Ages, the God who took on flesh invaded pagan German winter solstice trees and made them into Christmas trees. The God who took on flesh invaded heathen Scandinavian evergreen circles and made them into Advent wreaths.
The God who once deigned to take on mortal flesh can, we should trust, still invade our present-day, fleshly, flashy, earthly Christmas in all its commotion. There is much to be said for Christian efforts to "put Christ back in Christmas." Congregations singing Christmas hymns and pastors preaching Christmas sermons do exactly that. But even as the faithful stubbornly keep Christ in Christmas, we do well to remember that Christ has long done a remarkably decent job of keeping Christ in Christmas.[4]
We need not go down the path of the Puritans of around 1600. They did not believe in celebrating Christmas. In fact, it was against the law in Massachusetts for churches to have special services during the Christmas season. It was also against the law to give gifts during the Christmas season. You see, the Bible did not command it, so they did not believe it should be done.
First, let us admit that Christmas has a way a way of bringing out the inner materialist in us all. it is subtle, but the perspective that can affect us during this season is that if we can give just the right thing, or if someone gives us just the right thing, life will be richer and have increased meaning. The reality, of course, is that no finite thing can do that. Materialism is our way of covering up our deeper fears of being alone, or being separated from loved ones, of losing a meaningful place in the world, of becoming ill, of growing old, of dying. [People say]: "I'm boring and I don't like doing it, but I'm going to do it until I'm fully vested, then I'll do what I want." That is not going to work. That is a bad life strategy. Later does not come, or it comes too late."[5]
I came across a list of how to tell if you are a materialist:
1. Do you hate yourself? Our emphasis on money and success has given us a lot of ammunition for self-criticism when we do not meet our expectations or the expectations of others.
2. Do you check labels? Is it more important whether the item is made by the right designer and comes from the right store than whether it is made of decent quality?
3. Are you embarrassed because of your possessions and/or background?
4. Are you afraid of people who have less than you? Do you avoid people whose appearance obviously identifies them as persons in poverty and distress?
5. Do you hide behind material masks? Do you use possessions to camouflage a bankrupt emotional and spiritual life?
6. Do you fantasize about showing everyone up by becoming rich and famous?
7. Do you ask yourself, "But will it sell?" Do you lower your standards to achieve success?
8. Do you use people to get ahead?
9. Do you think of yourself as a resume?[6]
Second, it might be helpful if we change perspective on the seasonal spending. It connects those who give and receive gifts. It even ties together buyers and sellers in webs of service, prosperity, and gain. If retailers enjoy good business during the holidays, it is a sign of strength and prosperity for the larger society, just as disappointing results indicate widespread hardship. All the buying and selling is altogether voluntary, demonstrating the operation of a free market that functions best when there’s peace on earth to men of good will. The market, in fact, encourages precisely that sort of cooperation and respect. What is negative about the prospect of hundreds of millions of Americans taking great pains to select gifts to express their affection for friends and family? In fact, the kind instincts demonstrated by the giving mania, and by the ubiquitous figure of Santa Claus, may at least bring us closer to the message of higher love that’s part of the holiday’s religious core.
There is nothing like a little Christmas morning chaos. Seeing children bound down the stairs wide-eyed at the colorfully wrapped presents under the tree is something to which every parent looks forward (coffee in hand at that early hour, of course). There is the inevitable flurry of wrapping paper flying in all directions, the squeals of joy, the flashing lights and sounds of those new electronic devices, or the latest cool toy — all of which have become the expectation for an American Christmas. But there is also the inevitable letdown once the wrapping paper is cleaned up and the toys and other ephemera are sorted out. Every year it seems like the truth is revealed that not all Christmas gifts are equal. That toy that a child pined for over the course of months is suddenly left sitting in a corner while he plays with the box it came in. That expensive gift you put a lot of thought into for your loved one is now set aside and forgotten. While they may be appreciated, there are always a few gifts that are just never used.
A survey of parents in the U.K. estimated that 25% of the gifts given to children at Christmas are never used, thus there has been a push to give kids fewer — but more meaningful — gifts. In terms of real money, that is more than a billion British pounds worth of gifts that do not make the cut. And that does not count all the gifts that adults might give to one another that are quietly donated to the local thrift store or regifted to another unsuspecting person the following year.
The best gifts are always those that elicit a practical response, whether that be regular enjoyment or regular use. Thank-you cards are still the standard response to receiving any gift, acknowledging the relational capital that has been transacted in both giving and receiving. But the greatest thank-you a giver can receive is seeing the gift become a regular part of the recipient’s life. When that happens, the relationship between the giver and the receiver is strengthened and there is an anticipation that more gifts may be exchanged between them in the future.
Third, some Christians are concerned with Santa.
For one thing, Santa and gift giving seem to detract from the religious dimension of the celebration. Too many simply spend too much. I would like to think the season can be a time of meditation, sobriety, and joy that arises from an intimate connection to what we celebrate during this season. Among the beautiful things about the stories of the birth of Jesus is that they make clear to the reader of the story who Jesus was as the Son of God. Assembling the Nativity scene can help with our reflection upon the mystery of Immanuel, God with us. One can have obvious Christian symbols in and outside the home that share the story of Jesus. Christians can find ways to make it clear with whom they stand during this season.
There is a little piece of land which juts out from Turkey called Lycia. In the fourth century it was known as Myra. The city had a Christian Bishop who became a saint in the Roman Catholic Church. He suffered under the persecution of Diocletian from 284 to 305. But Constantine freed him by in 313. After his death, he became the patron saint of Russia, of sailors, of children, of scholars, virgins, and thieves. There are reasons for all these recognitions in his lifetime. For example, he is the patron saint of virgins because, the story goes, the heard about a father who had three daughters. He could not provide materially for them and was about to consign them to a life of prostitution. But the good Bishop heard about this and secretly provided dowries for the girls so that this would not happen. As for the thieves, the bishop was known as a person who ministered among the criminal, seeking to lift them out of life in lowliness and raise them up to a new life. As for the children, on December 6th, he would go to the poor children of his district and bring a special gift for them. His name was Saint Nicholas, the origin of not only Santa Claus, but of giving gifts on Christmas.
Here is a little poem that might help if you have trouble with Santa.
Daddy, she said, her eyes full of tears,
Will you talk to me and quiet my fears?
Those bad boys at school are spreading a lie
'bout the impossibility of reindeer that fly.
There's no Santa Claus, they say with a grin
There's not one now and there never has been.
How can one man take all of those toys
To thousands of girls and boys?
But I told them Daddy, that they were not right.
That I would come home and find out tonight.
Mama said wait until you come home.
Please tell me now that I was not wrong.
Her daddy looked at her questioning face
And puffed his pipe while his frantic mind raced.
He had put this off as long as he could.
He had to think fast and it better be good.
Whispering a prayer, he began with a smile,
Well climb on my lap, dear, let's talk awhile.
Remember at church how we learned to pray,
Asking God to take care of us each day?
And you know how we say grace before each meal?
To this same God whom we know to be real.
Though we never see him, we know he is there
Watching his children with such loving care.
God started Christmas a long time ago
When he gave us his son to love and to know.
A spirit of giving came with that birth,
And God's generosity filled the whole earth.
Man had to name this spirit of giving
Just as he names all things that are living.
The name Santa Claus came to someone's mind
Probably the best name of any to find.
There is, you can see, and I think quite clear
Truly a Santa who visits each year.
A spirit like God, whom we never see,
He enters the hearts of your mother and me.
Each year at Christmas for one special night
We become him and make everything right.
But the REAL spirit of Christmas is in you and in me
And I hope you are old enough now to see
That as we believe and continue to give.
Our friend Santa Claus will continue to live.
Robert May wrote advertising copy for Montgomery Ward in 1938. His boss came to him one day and said he wanted him to draft a folk story for their catalogue booklet this year. The request came at an inconvenient time. He had a child at home and a wife dying of a terminal illness. He was extremely introverted. His heart was empty. Yet, he was being forced to write a Christmas story. He did not need the added burden, but there it was. In his worrying, he fell asleep and had a dream about a reindeer. The next day he went to the zoo. He drafted a little story while looking at the reindeer. But when he gave it to his boss, his boss said it was too childish, that there was nothing to it. This emptied him even more. He went home to his dying wife and sick child. The inferiority that was simply a part of his life became even more pronounced. He saw himself a failure. With all these feelings inside him, he rewrote the story. This time he read the story to his dying wife and child. The child's eyes sparkled with wonder at the story. The boss accepted the story. When it was put in the catalogue, it was put to music by others. I wonder if that does not make the song a bit more meaningful:
Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer
had a very shiny nose.
And if you ever saw it,
you would even say it glowed.
All of the other reindeer
used to laugh and call him names.
They never let poor Rudolph
play in any reindeer games.
Then one foggy Christmas Eve
Santa came to say:
"Rudolph with your nose so bright,
won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"
Then how the reindeer loved him,
as they started out with glee.
Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer,
you'll go down in history.
Let me tell you a Christmas story.
There was a time when all the angels where gathered about the heavenly throne of God for a discussion. Things were in a mess down on earth. (What else is new?) The creator had become terribly concerned about the state of the creation: wars, fighting, famine, bloodshed all over.
“I’ve tried everything,” God complained. “I have spoken to them some of the most beautiful words they could ever hope to hear. Think of the glorious psalms, the hymns, the poetic passages of Isaiah. They love to read about peace and goodwill, but they don’t like to live it!
God continued, “Then I sent them the prophets. Prophets like Isaiah. They love Isaiah, the promises of release from their sufferings, freedom from their exile. But do they follow the precepts of the prophets about justice and righteousness rolling down like waters? Never!”
There was widespread discussion of the sad situation on earth. Many of the angels – Gabriel, Michael, and others had been on earth on many an occasion. They had seen for themselves the sources of God’s lament and shared God’s concern.
“I think the only thing left is for one of you, a member of the heavenly court, to go down to earth. Live with them, not just for a moment, but every day. Get to know them, become one of them, live with them, let them get to know you. Only then will heaven be truly communicated to them. Only then will they take notice of the great gap between the way they have been living and the way they were created. Only then will we be able to reveal to them who I created them to be.”
The angels stood around in awkward silence. They had been to earth before, to deliver messages from God or to effect some momentary intervention in human affairs. They weren’t about to volunteer for long-term duty in such a murderous, difficult place.
The silence lasted for an eternity. Finally, God himself broke the silence. Quietly, determinedly, but without any sense of resignation and no bitterness, God said, “Then I will go.”
This is a parable of Christmas.
The whole point of Christmas is that God, in the person of Jesus Christ, came among us. He became a living example of the way of God’s kingdom — the way of hope, peace, joy, and love. He showed the way of servanthood, the way of suffering, and the way of salvation.
Imagine with me a shepherd on that fateful first Christmas night. Now, he is much older. He has a grandson who is sitting upon his knee. He recalls this story, even on this night:
A long, long time ago, when I was little more than a boy, I was out on the Judean hills one night with some other shepherds, keeping watch over the flock. And the angel of the Lord came upon us and the glory of the Lord shone roundabout us. And we were afraid. And the angel said, "Fear not...for unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord...You shall find the babe in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
The lips stopped moving. Silence. The little boy looks with wide, puzzled eyes into his grandfather's face and says: "But granddad, is that all? What did you do when you heard the good news? Was what the angel said true? Was the Christ Child ever really born?" The old man shook his head: "I never knew. I never went to see. Some say that it is all a myth. Others say they found in Him the Light of God, the power of life. But for me, I could never be quite sure. I never did go to see."[7]
Imagine a conversation from one father to another.
This is not the way I planned it, God. Not at all. My child being born in a stable? This is not the way I thought it would be. A cave with sheep and donkeys, hay and straw? My wife giving birth with only the stars to hear her pain?
This is not at all what I had imagined. No, I imagined family. I imagined grandmothers. I imagined neighbors clustered outside the door and friends standing at my side. I imagined the house erupting with the first cry of the infant. Slaps on the back, Loud laughter. Jubilation.
That is how I thought it would be. But now. Who will celebrate with us? The sheep? The shepherds? The stars?
This does not seem right. What kind of husband am I? I provide no midwife to aid my wife. No bed to rest her back. Her pillow is a blanket from my donkey. Did I miss something? Did I, God?
When you sent the angel and spoke of the Son being born---this is not what I pictured. I envisioned Jerusalem, the temple, the priests, and the people gathered to watch. A pageant. A parade. I mean, this is the Messiah!
Or, if not born in Jerusalem, how about Nazareth? Wouldn’t Nazareth have been better? At least there I have my house and my business. Out here, what do I have? A weary mule, a stack of firewood, and a pot of warm water. This is not the way I wanted it to be! Forgive me for asking but is this how God enters the world? The coming of the angel I’ve accepted. The questions people asked about the pregnancy, I can tolerate. The trip to Bethlehem, fine. But why a birth in a stable, God?
Any minute now Mary will give birth. Not to a child, but to the Messiah. Not to an infant, but to God. That is what the angel said. That is what Mary believes. And God, my God, that is what I want to believe. But surely you can understand; it is not easy. It seems so bizarre.
I am unaccustomed to such strangeness, God, I’m a carpenter. I make things fit. I square off edges. I follow the plumb line. I measure twice before I cut once. Surprises are not a friend of a builder. I like to know the plan. I like to see the plan before I begin.
But this time I am not the builder, am I? This time I am a tool. A hammer in your grip. A chisel in your hands. This project is yours, not mine.
I guess it is foolish of me to question you. Forgive my struggling. Trust does not come easy to me, God. But you never said it would be easy, did you?
One final thing, Father. The angel you sent? Any chance you could send another? If not an angel, a person? I do not know anyone around here and some company would be nice. The innkeeper or a traveler? Even a shepherd would do.
Imagine another response from the innkeeper. A Sunday School teacher directing the annual Christmas play had a large boy with a learning disability to portray the role of innkeeper. On the night of the play, Joseph appeared with Mary. The innkeeper said: "What do you want!" Joseph said: "Sir, we seek lodging." The innkeeper said: "there's no room in the inn for you." Joseph, pleading, "Please, my wife is with child. Surely you have someplace for her." The innkeeper, realizing the significance of rejecting the Holy family, was silent. The prompter had to urge him to say, "No, be gone." Joseph and Mary began to walk away. But tears flowed down his face as he said: "Don't go, Joseph. Bring Mary back. You can have my room." That is what God wants us to do. Make room for Jesus in our hearts and lives.
The people of Israel, like the other peoples of the ancient Near East, had only a limited knowledge of the physiological events of conception and gestation. They knew little of the development of the fetus in the mother's womb. To them it was a mystery, a work of God in a most remarkable manner. Yet, despite the lack of knowledge of the process, the event of the birth of a child was a glorious event‑‑a "cause for rejoicing," as Luke states. And so, it is in our day, as well, when we know so much more of the marvelous birth process, the process by which we all have entered the world. In the birth of a child, God enters the world anew. Humanity is born anew in every birth. As James Agee wrote: "In every child who is born, under no matter what circumstances, the potentiality of the human race is born again."
Let us consider his birth through the eye and mind of a young American clergyman as he approached Bethlehem on horseback on Christmas Eve in 1865. In the fading light of the early evening, he paused just beyond the city's borders to watch from the hills. The scene moved him deeply. He saw Bethlehem's narrow streets lined with modest homes. He thought about the people who lived there and how they depended on the land and their flocks for survival. He also pondered a mystery: In this city, the Savior of the world was born. In the stillness of that moment, Bethlehem became more than just another town‑‑it became a place of wonder and mystery. From that experience, the young clergyman gave us one of our most cherished Christmas carols. His name is Phillips Brooks and he penned these words from that long‑ago Christmas Eve experience:
O little town of Bethlehem, How still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.
In all of history, there has never been a town like Bethlehem, because there has never been a human being like Jesus, who was born there. It is more than a place on the map; it is an ideal of the imagination, a dream of enchantment hidden in the heart. Even if we have never visited Bethlehem, it has visited us. Every year, for as far back as we can remember, its borders have intersected our lives, and its ancient residents have become our neighbors‑‑for Christ was born in Bethlehem.
How silently, how silently the wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His heaven.
No ear may hear His coming, but in this world of sin.
Where meek souls will receive Him, still
the dear Christ enters in.
Here is a story that is so hokey … yet, it is a moving story for me.
Years ago, there was a very wealthy man who, with his devoted young son, shared a passion for art collecting. Together they traveled around the world, adding only the finest art treasures to their collection. Priceless works by Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet and many others adorned the walls of the family estate. The widowed, elder man looked on with satisfaction as his only child became an experienced art collector. The son's trained eye and sharp business mind caused his father to beam with pride as they dealt with art collectors around the world. As winter approached, war engulfed the nation, and the young man left to serve his country.
After only a few short weeks, his father received a telegram. His beloved son was missing in action. The art collector anxiously awaited more news, fearing he would never see his son again. Within days, his fears were confirmed. The young man had died while rushing a fellow soldier to a medic. Distraught and lonely, the old man faced the upcoming Christmas holidays with anguish and sadness. The joy of the season that he and his son had so looked forward to, would visit his house no longer.
On Christmas morning, a knock on the door awakened the depressed old man. As he walked to the door, the masterpieces of art on the walls only reminded him that his son was not coming home. As he opened the door, he was greeted by a soldier with a large package in his hand. He introduced himself to the man by saying, "I was a friend of you son. I was the one he was rescuing when he died. May I come in for a few moments? I have something to show you." As the two began to talk, the soldier told of how the man's son had told every one of his, not to mention his father's love of fine art. "I'm an artist," said the soldier, "and I want to give you this." As the old man unwrapped the package, the paper gave way to reveal a portrait of the man's son. Though the world would never consider it the work of a genius, the painting featured the young man's face in striking detail. Overcome with emotion, the man thanked the soldier, promising to hang the picture above the fireplace.
A few hours later, after the soldier had departed, the old man set about the task. True to his word, the painting went above the fireplace, pushing aside thousands of dollars of paintings. And then the man sat in his chair and spent Christmas gazing at the gift he had been given.
During the days and weeks that followed, the man realized that even though his son was no longer with him, the boy's life would live on because of those he had touched. He would soon learn that his son had rescued dozens of wounded soldiers before a bullet stilled his caring heart. As the stories of his son's gallantry continued to reach him, fatherly pride and satisfaction began to ease the grief. The painting of his son soon became his most prized possession, far eclipsing any interest in the pieces over which museums around the world clamored. He told his neighbors it was the greatest gift he had ever received.
The following spring, the old man became ill and passed away. The art world was in anticipation! Unmindful of the story of the man's only son, but in his honor, those paintings would be sold at an action. According to the will of the old man, all the art works would be auctioned on Christmas Day, the day he had received his greatest gift.
The day soon arrived and art collectors from around the world gathered to bid on some of the world's most spectacular paintings. Dreams would be fulfilled this day; greatness would be achieved as many would claim, "I have the greatest collection."
The auction began with a painting that was not on any museum's list. It was the painting of the man's son. The auctioneer asked for an opening bid. The room was silent. "Who will open the bidding with $100?" he asked. Minutes passed. No one spoke. From the back of the room came, "Who cares about that painting? It's just a picture of his son. Let's forget it and go on to the good stuff." More voices echoed in agreement. "No, we have to sell this one first," replied the auctioneer. "Now, who will take the son?" Finally, a friend of the old man spoke, "Will you take ten dollars for the painting? That is all I have. I know the boy, so I'd like to have it." "I have ten dollars. Will anyone go higher?" called the auctioneer. After more silence, the auctioneer said, "Going once, going twice. Gone."
The gavel fell. Cheers filled the room, and someone exclaimed, "Now we can get on with it and we can bid on these treasures!" The auctioneer looked at the audience and announced the auction was over. Stunned disbelief quieted the room. Someone spoke up and asked, "What do you mean it's over? We did not come here for a picture of some old guy's son. What about all these paintings? There are millions of dollars of art here! I demand that you explain what is going on here!"
The auctioneer replied, "It's very simple. According to the will of the father, whoever takes the son get it all."
Puts things into perspective, does it not? Just as those art collectors discovered on that Christmas Day, the message is still the same: the love of a father, a father whose greatest joy came from his son, who went away and gave his life rescuing others. Because of that father's love, whoever takes the son, gets it all.
I conclude these reflections with a question: What do you want for Christmas? We will answer differently at successive stages of our lives. In our youth, dolls, action figures, and trains might make the list. We might like adult gifts later, such as jewelry or some technological gadget. Eventually, however, we will answer with something closer to the meaning of the event we celebrate. Joy would be nice, ad would peace, and as would love.
Love did come down at Christmas – and still does, emptying itself in a million places, circumstances, and hearts. May it find and touch you this Christmas. May you find and touch it – He, who is love. Perhaps it will happen for you this Christmas.
Robert Fulghum has written a book entitled All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten: Uncommon Thoughts on Common Things. One of his stories is about Christmas. Mr. Fulghum met a man who gave his opinion about giving gifts at Christmas. It was his opinion that the saying, "It is not the gift, but the thought, that counts," was wrong. It was his belief that people who had good thoughts gave good gifts. As Mr. Fulghum thought about that, he agreed. When God gave a gift, God cared enough to give the very best. But then, he thought about himself. What gift did he want for Christmas? This is the answer he gave:
It's delight and simplicity that I want. Foolishness and fantasy and noise. Angels and miracles and wonderland innocence and magic. That's closer to what I want.
It's harder to talk about, but what I really, really, really want for Christmas is just this:
I want to be five years old again for an hour.
I want to laugh a lot and cry a lot.
I want to be picked up and rocked to sleep in someone's arms, and carried up to bed just one more time.
I know what I really want for Christmas.
I want my childhood back.
Nobody is going to give me that. I might give at least the memory of it to myself if I try. I know it does not make sense, but since when is Christmas about sense, anyway? It is about a child, of long ago and far away, and it is about the child of now. In you and me. Waiting behind the door of our hearts for something wonderful to happen. A child who is impractical, unrealistic, simpleminded, and terribly vulnerable to joy. (p. 95-96)
Mr. Fulghum has another story that I would like to share with you. It seems that one Christmas he got very few Christmas cards. He was a bit down about that, feeling some self-pity. His cheap friends did not even care enough for him to send him cards. Then, the following August, he got tired of the mess in the attic. He cleaned it out. One box had a bunch of unopened Christmas cards. He had put them in the box to open later. He obviously forgot them. He took the box out to the front porch, put on some Christmas music, and sang and read and laughed and cried. He had his Christmas in August. His conclusion:
What can I say? I guess wonder and awe and joy are always there in the attic of one's mind somewhere, and it doesn't take a lot to set it off. And much about Christmas is outrageous, whether it comes to you in December or late August. (ibid, p. 87-89)
I share with the reader my studies of the biblical texts for the Christmas season. I am indebted to Homiletics magazine for its many years of studies on the texts. I am also thankful for the faithful work of Karl Barth and Wolfhart Pannenberg who have been constant companions in my theological reflections upon these texts.
Christmas Eve
Epistle Titus 2:11-14 or Epistle Titus 3:4-7
Christmas Day
First Sunday After Christmas
Year A
Year B
Year C
Second Sunday After Christmas
Theological Reflections on the Biblical Texts for the Season of Christmas
My purpose here is to explore the theology I see in the texts of the lectionary related to the celebration of Christmas.
First, the context for much of what the New Testament says about Jesus is the hope contained in certain Old Testament texts. Such texts speak to the transcendence of God. This word is from the Latin meaning, "to surpass," and it refers to the "beyondness" or "otherness" of God and to God being above creation and outside of human comprehension. God is wholly other than what we are. Yet, Christian theology will balance this theological affirmation with the notion of the immanence of God. They address the power of God and the weakness of humanity. Human beings search for power and avoid weakness, but faith realizes that there is only one power that lasts while all other power is temporary. To accept this power is to accept one’s dependence on the creator and sustainer.
The hope in these Old Testament texts is that the God of Israel would rule over the nations, which gives these texts a refreshing universalist perspective. Although we often read of displays of the mighty deeds of the Lord in the Old Testament, it can also speak of the power that shows itself in the beauty of the Lord. Such beauty is the power of attraction that invites us to stop what we are doing and gaze upon it (Psalm 96). The rule of the Lord becomes effective in history and in anticipation of a universal rule of justice. The coming of God to rule was for all peoples. The goal of human history is the revelation of the righteousness of the Lord. Thus, only in this future consummation of world history, with the deity of God and divine glory manifest to all peoples, will history reach its goal.[8] For that reason, the response of persons to such marvelous and victorious deeds will always be a matter of faith and hope. The Jewish people could sing joyfully in the most difficult of times, whether in exile or in the challenging times that followed their return.
The hunger they had for joy was persistent, so much as that it is a sign that joy is more lasting than are troubles. In fact, the sounds of nature join with human voices to offer praise to the Lord. The Lord has calmed nature on behalf of human beings. Praise is the natural anticipated response of all creation for its Creator (Psalm 98). We offer such praise for the gift of creation. The invitation is that all rulers and peoples, the animate and the inanimate, would give praise, suggesting that the universe is dedicated and committed to God. No aspect of life is beyond the purview of the Lord. The glory of the Lord is everywhere. Let us give all our hopes and dreams, all that we possess, over to the Lord. The cosmic scope of such praise suggests that the Lord has a personal relationship with every part of nature. Even the wildest and darkest parts of nature will offer such praise. Nothing can break the order and teleology that is at work (Psalm 148).
This universal context is the setting for the expression of joy when light comes upon we who have lost our way amid a darkness that never sleeps, as it entices its victims with whispers of illicit pleasure, and then springs the trap. Darkness has swallowed up the lives far too many people (Isaiah 9:2). In either case, darkness threatens everyone. Some may need to walk in darkness long enough to see the darkness in which they are living and therefore see the need for the light to dawn upon them. The darkness of our own struggles creates a place where we become aware of the light of God. This light has dawned upon some people early in life, while it may others far longer before the light dawns upon them. From the standpoint of faith, we can live through any darkness because we have confidence that it is temporary and finite.
In his hymn, Joy to the World (1719), Isaac Watts expressed it well, as we join all creation in singing a song of joyful praise to the Lord for the saving and ruling work of the Lord among us.
Hegel, in his Lectures on the Philosophy of Religion, reflects upon life from the perspective of one who believes. For the believer, if this life is all there is, it seems like a desert. However, viewed from the standpoint of faith, God is the sacred center that animates and inspires all things. Believers view this life within God, and therefore have a resulting feeling of “bliss,” joy, and happiness. The grief of this life passes away in devotion, worship, and hope. Anxiety passes away because in God, we consider ourselves fortunate. We can have liveliness, confidence, and enjoyment because of the promised happiness of eternity. For him, promised happiness in eternity radiates life here and now. In fact, when the knowledge we have in our heads reaches into our hearts, it truly becomes our own. Such knowledge will animate us in a way that compels us to act. One of those acts is worship and devotion, in which we find supreme enjoyment because we experience our lives within the life of God.
Praise is compliment, approval, and giving honor. In one sense, the world rings with praise. Lovers praise each other. Readers praise favorite authors. Walkers praise their surroundings. Sports enthusiasts praise their favorite sport and team. We might praise the weather. The list continues with your favorite alcoholic drink, actors, horses, schools, countries, historical persons, children, flowers, mountains, and even a politician or scholar. Yet does not all this praising of finite things give us a hint of the supremely Valuable? Praise is more than complement. We praise to complete the enjoyment of that which we praise. The feeling that gives rise to praise needs to find expression in our words to reach its completion and fullness. Our words say much about what is in our hearts. Think of praise in the context of lovers. They do not tell each other of the beauty of the other simply to offer compliment. Their delight in each other is incomplete until they put into words the delight they have in their hearts.[9]
This coming of God grants peace (shalom). Broader than the idea of the absence of conflict, it suggests wholeness and having what we need to be flourishing human beings. It also means tranquility, wholeness/completeness, well-being, reconciliation between people, and harmony within the community, prosperity, and safety. It suggests the state of spiritual, psychological, and emotional health we would like to have as our default state (Psalm 147). Shalom is not some force outside of ourselves that God hands to us, but a condition God makes possible as we face honestly the threats to peace that arrive throughout our lives. Peace often comes when we let go of defining the outcome and simply receive the gifts God has in store for us. Our future wellbeing depends on the defeat of the enemy. The enemy seeks to oppress and enslave, but our wellbeing depends upon liberation. Therefore, we read of the promise of a new heir from the House of David who will rule over the earth. The Lord will have an intimate relationship with this heir. The prophet and priest long claimed such intimacy with the Lord, but it was a new promise of the Lord that the Lord would have this intimacy with a future king. This king will have authority in dispensing justice, in having divine power, in providing a reassuring and protective rule, and in a bringer of shalom, that is, peace and prosperity (Isaiah 9:6-7). This promise means that Christians do not place their trust in any political leader or the political ideology that guides them. This future heir to the throne of David embodies peace.
Such joy, praise, and peace give good reason for those who experience it to become witnesses or messengers of the salvation God has brought to the world, for it is good news indeed. The reason for such is the dawning of the rule of God. From one perspective, that rule seems like a distant dream. In the Old Testament, signs of the proleptic rule of God were in the restoration of the Jewish people to their home and in the restoration of worship in the Temple. In the Old Testament, the prophets were such messengers. Israel as the people whom the Lord had chosen were to be such messengers. The messenger points to the importance of the message. From the perspective of the Christian faith, Jesus is the one accurate, worthy, and consistent spokesperson for God. This good news concerns the saving act of the Lord that has its target the saving of peoples of all cultures and in every time. Human beings in every culture and in ever historical period will need the message of peace and deliverance. It becomes a missionary message to the world. Today, the people of God are to embody in word and deed the peace, the good news, and the rule of God in personal and collective ways (II Isaiah 52:7-10).
Even in challenging times, when the situation from a human perspective is dark, the people of God can meditate upon the mighty, gracious, praiseworthy, and redemptive acts of the Lord (III Isaiah 63:7-9). Such a retrospective look becomes the basis for prospective hope. What the Lord has done to redeem us describes the relation of the Lord to us, for the Lord has valued us and we can expect the Lord to continue to value us in the future. Israel reflects this valued relationship between the Lord and the people whom the Lord has chosen. The Lord will give them a heart to know the Lord, so that they will be the people of the Lord (Jeremiah 24:7, 30:22). A day is coming when all the families of Israel will be “my people” (Jeremiah 31:1). A day is coming when the Lord will write the law on the hearts of the people, and they will be the people of the Lord (Jeremiah 31:33). The Lord will gather the exiles in such a way that they shall be the people of the Lord (Jeremiah 32:38). In addition, those who persevere through tribulation will inherit eschatological blessings and become the children of God (Revelation 21:7). Such redemptive acts of the Lord will come through the personal presence of the Lord. In Genesis 32:24-32 we have the origin of Peniel, “face of God,” with Jacob wrestled. One can also see Exodus 14:19, where the angel of God went before and behind the Israelite army, Exodus 33:14-15, where the Lord assures Moses of the personal presence of the Lord, Deuteronomy 4:37-38, where the direct presence of the Lord brought the people out of Egypt, and Numbers 6:24-26, where the priestly benediction is that the face of the Lord shine upon them. Such presence will later have an identification with the Spirit of God in Isaiah 63:10-14, where the Spirit is the one who led the people out of Egypt and protected them, as well as Psalm 139:7 and 51:11, where the Spirit and the presence of the Lord are in poetic parallelism. The Anointed One will need personal commitment if his personal work is to move forward with great anticipation at what he will achieve in bringing renewal and rebuilding to Zion. The Anointed One has good news to share concerning the renewal of Zion and wants the nations to see (III Isaiah 61:10-62:3).
Such acts of the Lord derive from the grace of the Lord toward the people of God and toward humanity. The Lord has a relationship with Israel that is like that of father to the privileged status of firstborn son. The notion that Israel is like a son to the Lord who is like a father, becomes the basis for the filial relationship the New Testament sees between Jesus as the Son and the God of Israel as his Father. The restoration of the people of God to their hope was in the hands of a loving and forgiving God. Such ransom and redemption of the people of God will occur through a liberation that only the Lord could bring. The Lord will bring joy and comfort to a people who suffer. They are learning that the constant in their communal life is the Lord, not a place (Jeremiah 31:7-14).
Many Christians in America wrestle with an image of how Christianity needs to relate to the increasing secularity of this culture. One image is that of the exile. Any image is only partially useful, especially if it helps the people of God to reflect upon their mission. If we think of the church in a secular culture as exile, Christianity is more like a remnant within the culture. To say that we make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world may be saying more than is possible in such an exile setting. The Jewish exile arose because of a forced geographic move. This exile in modern culture occurs as a culture the church helped create has turned its back on the church. It has become increasingly hostile to the values and teachings of the church. It does so through its primary institutions, despite the brief respite it might receive because of political changes. In exile, the church needs to learn to rely far more upon God than upon the culture for help in the journey. The secular culture would like the church to assimilate its values. Many in the church would like to do so as well. It will take courage to resist assimilation. Secular culture will naturally become increasingly intolerant of those who differ. Like the exiles, we may need to acknowledge that we have been blind to the vision God has for us in a new missionary situation, acknowledge our attempts to do things our way, and realize our need for new birth and the guiding hand of the Shepherd.
Second, the New Testament is clear that the Father sent the Son in the fullness of time and thus at just the right time (Hebrews 1:1-4). The point is that the right time must intersect with the march of chronological time. The speaking of God in the Old Testament has been diverse in geographical location and in its method of disclosure. Luther suggested that when God speaks to humanity, God always speaks in baby talk. God speaks like this because God is love. No matter how old or big we become, we are still helpless, dependent, unknowing babes as far as concerns our faith. God bends to our infirmities. God speaks, telling us what we need to know and what we can handle. We cannot stand the full weight of the full truth. The creator knows the needs and limits we have as creatures. Therefore, said Luther, God talks only in baby talk. Adam and Eve did not need to know all that Abraham needed, and Abraham did not need to know all that Moses needed, and Moses did not need to know all the King David needed. Prophets and priests had a different form of communication with the Lord as over against rulers. The notion of revelation involves what God has to say to humanity. A speaker needs someone to listen, such as the prophet. The speaking of God creates a community of faithful listeners. Such a notion hints at the progression of covenant in Noah, Abraham, Israel, and the house of David. It suggests that the covenant is a promise. The covenant exists in expectation of a further covenant. The Old Testament is a revelation as it looks forward with expectation to a new covenant. It points beyond itself. Kings, priests, teachers, and prophets could only hint at the reality God would bring to humanity for its redemption in Christ. We can think of the rule of kings hinting at the rule of the Lord, the forgiveness offered in the sacrificial system hinting at the forgiveness God offers, the teacher who related the wisdom of the torah, and the prophet who hears from the Lord and speaks what the Lord wants. All this is hinting of Jesus Christ as the Word.[10] This notion suggests the multiplicity of the biblical ideas of revelation.[11]
Looking at the Old Testament hints that God will speak again in a definitive way. “In the last days” (Acts 2:17, Joel 2:28-29), “In the fullness of time” (Mark 1:15, Galatians 4:4), contain similar notions of the relationship between the time of the Old Testament and that of the New. It refers to time reaching its full term. One period has ended so that another can begin. The Moment has arrived in the plan of God. God had been sending messengers and the rest of humanity had struggled long enough. This Moment gives time its fullness. Human beings search for meaning in the faith and hope that that they can find it. This Moment has come because the Father sent the Son, who now enters the sphere of earthly, finite, and temporal existence born of a Jewish woman who was under the authority of the law, which represents all human beings as under the spiritual and moral direction of a law as well as deepening the awareness of our resistance to it. The Son enters such an existence to redeem those who lived in it and gives us the opportunity to receive adoption as children, sending the Spirit to us who enables us to leave the slavery of the law and enter a filial relationship so that we can cry out Abba, Father, the term Jesus used of the God of Israel. The Spirit invites humanity to enter the fellowship of the Father and the Son, the transition from slave to child being a relational one based upon an analogy within the ancient household (Galatians 4:4-7). God revealed Jesus as the Christ “at the end of the ages” and for the sake of humanity (I Peter 1:20). The rule of God has drawn near in Christ. The turning point of the times, revealed in Christ, is the fulfillment of all the promises of the covenant of grace.[12] The Word spoken by Jesus is self-revelation in the sense that Christ is the work of God brought to fulfillment.[13]Therefore, Christ forms a unity amid diverse forms of revelation we find in the history of Israel. God spoke with emerging weight and definitiveness. While the speaking of God occurred in a variety of ways, it unites in the singleness and simplicity of the conclusion. The Old Testament looks forward with expectation while the New Testament recollects what God has said in the Son.[14] The Son receives the honor by the Father, who created the ages through him.
Such language reminds us of the way Wisdom was present with the Father in creation and even delighting in humanity (Proverbs 8:27-31 and Wisdom 9:1-2, 9). In an analogous way, all things exist and find their preservation in the Lord Jesus Christ (I Corinthians 8:6), the Father created through the Son (Colossians 1:16), and God created through the Word (John 1:3). The Son is the reflection (ἀπαύγασμα, only use of word in NT, radiance) of the glory of God (referring to the presence of the God). The Son is the exact imprint (χαρακτὴρ, character, only occurrence of the word in the NT, an impression, representation, exact reproduction; a graving-tool, expression, stamp, or mark) of the very being (ὑποστάσεως, substance, reality, or even guaranteeing the reality) of God. Statements about Jesus as being the image of God are like statements about the divine likeness of humanity.[15] Such statements are the basis for what the creeds affirm about Jesus, including that the Son is “consubstantial,” of the same substance, as the Father. The Sonsustains all things by his powerful word. The Son sustains creation, and therefore created things participate in the filial relation of Jesus Christ to the Father and in fellowship with the Father. Yet, such relation finds its mediation through the self-distinction of the Son from the Father.[16] All things through God and for God (Hebrews 2:10), all things are from, through and for God (Romans 11:36) and that all things are from God to the point where we exist for God (I Corinthians 8:6). To say that all things exist “through” God is something most of us understand quickly. However, to say that all things exist for God places our existence on a personal level. God intends our lives to be spiritual acts of worship (Romans 12:2). Everything we do is supposed to be for God’s glory (1 Corinthians 10:31). Even nonhuman creation — stars, seas, mountains, trees, animals — all praise God by their very existence (Psalm 148). The Son made purification for sins, which is the effect of the work of the Son. We have redemption through the blood of Jesus and forgiveness of our sins (Ephesians 1:7-8, Colossians 1:14). God has made the Son a sacrifice of atonement by his blood (Romans 3:25). Christ has become faithful high priest, making himself the sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people. Paul had a similar view in Romans 3:25, where God has put forward Christ Jesus as a sacrifice of atonement by the blood of Jesus. With John, Jesus Christ is also the atoning sacrifice for the sins of the world (I John 2:2) and God loved us enough to send the Son as the atoning sacrifice for our sins (I John 4:10). Since his suffering tested him, he can help those who experience the tests of a human life. Paul has a similar view in I Corinthians 10:13, where he stresses God is faithful to the one tested in providing a way to endure. Paul shared similar views of Jesus in Romans 8:3, where Jesus comes in the likeness of sinful flesh, in 8:29, where he is the firstborn within a large family, and Philippians 2:7, where the Son takes the form of human likeness. (Hebrews 2:10-18). The Son then sat down (Psalm 110) at the right hand of the Majesty on high, like exalting Jesus to the right hand of God (Acts 2:33), and God highly exalting him, giving him a name above every name (Philippians 2:9-11). Consistent with this passage, John 1:18, Philippians 2:6-11, and Colossians 1:15-20 are the central New Testament affirmations of the deity of Christ. The lordship of the Son is an application of the lordship of the Father. The deity of Jesus shows who the Father is.[17] In the Son is the origin of all that differs from the Father and therefore the independence of creation in relation to the Father. The Son is the mediator of creation in the sense that creation will accomplish its purpose in Christ (Hebrews 1:1-4).[18]
The full humanness of Christ makes possible his saving death. Jesus defeated the supreme enemies, death, and the devil, providing release from an enslaving fear. Paul has a similar view in I Corinthians 15:54-57, where the risen Lord makes it possible say that death has lost its sting because Christ has defeated it. The risen Lord holds the keys of hell and death (Revelation 1:18). Christ Jesus has abolished death (II Timothy 1:10). God revealed who the Son was to destroy the works of the devil (I John 3:8b). God has come near to us in Jesus Christ. We do not truly know God by making surmises about the world that lead us to the logical conclusion that God exists, using the analogy of being. Rather, we know God when we turn in faith to the revelation of God in Jesus Christ, using the analogy of faith. When we turn to this Moment, the event of revelation and the event of faith occurs in us through the Holy Spirit, God has come near to us. If so, we are dealing with something far more important than an historical event of the distant past. We are dealing with its present reality in the word of proclamation, in the community of believers, and in the work of the Holy Spirit. The Incarnation mystery is God become human being in Christ, and therefore human beings are his brothers and sisters, his flesh and blood. God is intimately related to us in Christ. He became like us so that he might intercede for us and be our priest before the Father. Given the role of the Son in creation, he is bringing many to the glory of the Father, making him the pioneer, captain, champion, blazing the trail of their salvation. He took the lead, forged out into new spiritual territory, and wrote the example we are to follow. Such a title is close to the modern exegetical insight on the theme of the proleptic presence of salvation and the divine rule in the message and work of Jesus.[19] He became qualified for his present priestly ministry on behalf of humanity through his sufferings. Jesus willingly walked this path. Any life short of suffering and death would have been less than an identification with humankind and, therefore, less than a full understanding of the human condition.[20] His suffering and death were no accident. They are part of the divine drama of redemption. Only in his completed life is he the Son, for his sufferings perfect him as the Son. The practical effect of this insight is that one must not limit the notion of incarnation to his birth, for if other things did not happen, such as his baptism, his proclamation of the rule of God, the path of suffering, and his resurrection, he would not be the Son.[21] The Son looks at us — with all our imperfections, insecurities, and ignorance of him — and calls us family. The Son is on the same plane as those he is saving. The Son is among us as part of the family, even as Jesus refers to the people around him as his mother, brothers, and sisters (Mark 3:33-35). The risen Lord refers to “my brothers” who need to receive the word and go to Galilee (Matthew 28:10). The risen Lord tells Mary that his brothers need to hear the word of his resurrection (John 20:17).
Most of us do not have the custom of addressing Jesus in this way. He is like a pioneer. He is like our brother. To put it even more directly, in Jesus of Nazareth God has become brother and family member to every human being, acquainted with our grief, hurts, struggles, pains in our attempts to establish true family and true home. God became broken humanity to show us the path toward our wholeness. He is flesh and blood, just as we are. Even though he is not part of the official priestly line, he can be our high priest before God because he has faced the tests of life victoriously and he has endured suffering and death. Jesus has become the brother of every human being. If he is the pioneer of salvation for the human family, then he has paved the way for healing, liberation, and guidance in how to live a human life. We may feel the alienation from God, others, and even from our desire to be our best self. Jesus is the pioneer in showing us the way to communion or fellowship with God, others, and our best self. If classical Christian teaching is a step too far, could this be another saving way of viewing Jesus?
Christ is the fulfillment of the plan of God for the salvation of humanity. In Christ, God blesses, chooses, destines, adopts, bestows, and redeems (Ephesians 1:3-14).
The work of the Father is to choose us by grace through Christ. Christ becomes the model or means through whom the Father blesses. The determination of the Father to deal with humanity through Christ is the greatest of blessings to humanity and the greatest reason to offer praise to the Father. Such spiritual blessing is a divinely given and unified whole that affects real people in history. The Father chooses a people before creation. This act of election has a pretemporal aspect here. It suggests the notion that the origin of salvation in the eternity of God is prior to all the chances that we see in history.[22] Yet, the fact that belonging to Jesus Christ is the basis of the selection still takes an historical view of the manifestation of the elect as the end-time community. The election of a people is still the result of the historical event of Jesus Christ. Further, the eternal basis of election, Jesus Christ, has come into history, becoming the starting point of their calling.[23] Election is a matter of the heart of God for humanity. This election arises out of the historical event of Christ in a way like Old Testament forms of election. We gladly share this election with others. God continues to elect people. The people of God represent all humanity in their awareness of this election, suggesting that we must also view the election of Jesus and his historical mission as service to the future human fellowship of the rule of God. Divine election finds provisional manifestation in the people of God.[24] Such election concerns the plan of God for all creation, a plan that involves the holiness of humanity and the created order. The choosing of humanity through Christ suggests inclusive representation of humanity by Christ, or he becomes the paradigm of all humanity in its relation to God. [25] The aim of such divine election is the manifestation of the love of God toward creatures who may then participate in the fellowship of the Son with the Father. The act of election aims at integration into the filial relation of Jesus Christ to the Father. The Father has freely bestowed such a benefit upon us now, in the glorious present. The sending of the Son into the world serves the divine decision to have this fellowship with humanity but achieves its actualization only at the final consummation.[26]
The work of the Son deals with the menace that faces humanity, offering humanity redemption. Through perishability and death, salvation will come to creatures. no guilt, no past events, may stand between our full acceptance and us as adopted children of God. We have release from the bondage of guilt and shame we carry with us from our pasts. The past can be such a heavy weight for some. For some, they need to become aware of how much a weight they are carrying. The Father has lavished grace upon weakened humanity in Christ as part of a plan to gather up all finite and temporal things in Christ. The election of the people of God relates to this consummation. The Father will sum up all things in the Son. Their election now is a matter of taking part proleptically in the consummation of creation that God will effect in the future.[27] History is not a meaningless cycle of events. History makes sense because it has already moved toward its apex. Christ reveals the goal of the divine counsel.[28] The goal, the summation of all things in Christ, has a connection with Christ as the one through whom the Father created.[29] Christ gathers the creatures into the order that respects their distinctions and relations even while bringing the different aspects of creation together.[30] As created things participate in the filial relation of Christ to the Father, in their fellowship with the Father they participate in the self-distinction of the Son from the Father.[31] The participation of creatures in the Trinitarian fellowship of the Son with the Father is the goal of creation.[32] Christ becomes the creative, concrete, historically unfolded principle of the cosmic order and the principle of the unity of its history.[33] The point is that God has no desire to spend eternity without the created order.
The work of the Spirit is to seal or assure us of the redeeming work of the Son as we hear the word of truth and the good news of our salvation and receive now an inheritance that will be complete as creation reaches its goal.
If we allow Christmas to become nothing more than celebration of an historical and biological act, the birth of Jesus through a virgin, we will have missed the point. The fact that this biblical and secular history record miraculous births for its heroes is enough to explain why Matthew and Luke take the approach they do. Both gospel writers open with two chapters that deeply connect the birth of Jesus with the Old Testament, while Luke has clear hints of a connection with Caesar. Christians need to embrace the intellectual tradition that can embrace the truth, even if it means setting aside certain beliefs.
Regardless of our thinking regarding the history and biology of this moment, Christians who want to remain faithful to the tradition of the church do not give up the theological focus of this season.
The Son became flesh in Jesus of Nazareth out of the love and goodness of the Father and for the salvation of humanity. The same God who created the world acts in the Incarnation to renew the world, marred as it is by sin, corruption, and death. God acts in this way out of grace. God has met humanity face to face, seen the weakness and darkness, and loved us enough to unite with us in Jesus Christ. Thus, let us reflect for a moment on what we are reading from the standpoint of classical Christian theology. This orientation of God toward the works of God, and especially toward those whom God created in the divine image and likeness, is fitting of the divine nature. God refused to allow death and corruption to reign. The Incarnation speaks to the consistency of the character of God to unite with what God has created. In another sense, though, this was not a large move for God to make. God was already immanent with creation. God is near to any part of creation, as the theological teaching on the omnipresence of God would remind us. Further, from the standpoint of the Trinity, the Son was in union with the Father and at the time fills all things. The Incarnation occurs against the background of this affirmation of divine transcendence and immanence. Yet, in Jesus of Nazareth, the Son entered the world in a new way, stooping to our level in self-revealing love. The solidarity of humanity is such that by becoming a single human being, the Son overcomes the corruption and death that exerts its power over every human being. Death loses its power. As Lord and Savior, the Son has come to face that which opposes human flourishing. He begins the restoration of human nature.[34]
If we adopt a philosophical perspective in which the Infinite embraces the finite, in which the Eternal embraces time (Hegel), then we lessen the strangeness of the Incarnation. It remains strange, unique, and mysterious, but it contains within it a rationality that confronts us with the event nature of Truth that Christian revelation affirms. In the uniqueness of this Moment, the nature of the Infinite and Eternal God shines through and becomes light in our finite, temporal, messy, and broken experience. In suggesting this, I am resisting approaching the Incarnation as paradox, which suggests that by some artful intellectual dancing, which involves some clever reasoning, we must abandon our rationality so that we can turn to the paradox of the Incarnation by a leap of faith (Kierkegaard, Philosophical Fragments). The Christian teaching at this point bases itself upon the various Old Testament efforts to hold divine transcendence and immanence together, such as with its notion of the divine Glory appearing in the cloud at Mount Sinai or to Moses in the Tent of Meeting, as well as its depiction of the angel of the Lord. In its acceptance of a new revelation of the God of Israel in Jesus of Nazareth, it seeks to hold divine transcendence and immanence together in a unique way by testifying to the sending of Jesus as the Son by the Father and in the imparting of the life-giving Spirit upon the life of Jesus and upon those who turn to him in faith and obedience.
We read in the story the birth of Jesus of the humility of God. God enters the world at the bottom, through a despised place like Nazareth and a tiny town of Bethlehem. Bethlehem became more than just another place. It became a place of wonder and mystery.
O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight
Silent night! Holy night!
All is calm, all is bright
round yon Virgin Mother and Child,
Holy infant so tender and mild,
sleep in Heavenly peace!
sleep in Heavenly peace!
O come, all ye faithful,
Joyful and triumphant!
O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem;
Come and behold him
Born the King of Angels:
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.
God of God,
Light of Light,
Lo, he abhors not the Virgin’s womb;
Very God,
Begotten, not created:
I saw a stable, low and very bare,
A little child in a manger.
The oxen knew him, had Him in their care,
To men He was a stranger.
The safety of the world was lying there,
And the world's danger.
(Mary Coleridge)
Take care as you gaze into the manger. Beware coming too close to this Savior. We must accept the risk as we draw closer to this manger with this child. The action of God is taking place in an unexpected way.
"Let the stable still astonish;
Straw--dirt floor, dull eyes,
Dusty flanks of donkeys, oxen;
Crumbling, crooked walls;
No bed to carry that pain,
And then, the child,
Rag-wrapped, laid to cry
In a trough.
Who would have chosen this?
Who would have said: 'Yes.
Let the God of all the heavens
And earth
Be born here, in this place'?
Who but the same God
Who stands in the darker, fouler rooms
of our hearts
and says, 'Yes.
Let the God of Heaven and Earth
be born here---
in this place.'"[35]
Most of us would like a God of glory entering the world at the top. Jesus would become a man, giving the people a message of the humility of God and the identification of God with humanity. Such things do not count much among the ways of the world. Jesus went to the extreme in delivering his message, even to the humiliation of the cross.[36]
In this story, we learn that the glory and majesty of God reveal themselves in the one who had nowhere to lay his head, the meek and lowly, a beauty that no one desires, the splendor of the lonely wanderer with nails through his hands and feet. All that we know of God we have seen in him.[37]
In the story of the birth of Jesus in Matthew, Jesus fulfills God's promises and is the one for whom the nations long. The genealogy establishes Jesus’ lineage as a Jew, tracing him back to Abraham, and as a Jew with royal blood, tracing him back to David. The fulfillment of the prophecy in Isaiah 7:14 serves the didactic purpose of connecting Jesus to the promise. Throughout the first two chapters he will attach intricate details of the life of Jesus to scripture, as if to emphasize that every detail of the life of Jesus was part of the foreordained plan of God.[38] He is portraying Jesus in a way like that of Moses. Joseph followed the general pattern of contemporary Jewish piety. Like the Joseph of Genesis (Genesis 28:10-22; 31:10-13; 37:5-11; 40:1-41:36), he has dreams that guide him in caring for his family. The connection of the New Testament Joseph to Joseph in the Old Testament is strong (Matthew 2:13-23). It is because of the patriarch Joseph’s sojourn in Egypt and the subsequent settlement and captivity of the Israelites there that requires God, in the later generation of Moses, to call his son, Israel, out of Egypt again — a fact echoed by Hosea 11:1 and quoted by Matthew 2:15 in connection with the holy family’s flight. It is also Joseph the patriarch who is the father of the northern kingdom tribes represented by his sons Ephraim and Manasseh (Genesis 48). He is the child of Rachel (Genesis 30:22-24), and so his children, the members of the northern tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh, are those same children for whom Rachel weeps when the northern kingdom falls, according to Jeremiah 31:15-16. The image of the weeping matriarch of Israel is applied to the slaughter of the innocents in Matthew 2:16-18, but it still evokes an image of the ruin of the house of Joseph and juxtaposes this destruction with the escape and survival of the new Messiah, protected this time by his father Joseph, in a way that the first children of Joseph were not protected. Matthew sounds these echoes of the northern patriarchal traditions of the Old Testament Joseph because he is building toward his explanation of why Jesus was raised in the North and not in Bethlehem. Matthew is reminding his Jewish readers that God initially blessed the northern citizens of Israel with numerous direct revelations from God through great anointed leaders long before the days of David and his royal house. Why, then, should not the Messiah appear in the North? The purpose of Matthew is to show that Jesus is the promised Jewish Messiah. It is important to Matthew that Jesus is a descendent of David, which became reality through the legal parentage of Joseph.
The Spirit is the creative, life-giving force of this birth. The Holy Spirit is the creative movement of God toward creation. The effect of the conception is embarrassment to Joseph. Maybe because Joseph is upright, he does not want to give his name to a child whose father is unknown. Throughout the Gospel of Matthew, we learn that the followers of Jesus are to have a righteousness that exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees. Joseph is the first example of such righteousness. The righteous man is the merciful man, the loving man. In the eyes of Matthew, he was righteous precisely because he refused to hold up Mary to public ridicule and to the legal punishment for adultery.[39] In Matthew's account, there is a moment when God's plan rested in the simple hands of the man, Joseph. If he had followed through on his plan to dismiss her, he would have been without the validity of a Davidic heritage. He is righteous as well as compassionate. Joseph was "a righteous man," a moral state that both forced his hand and yet allowed him to act with mercy. Joseph's response to the announcement of Jesus' birth highlights the ambiguity, the threat that this strange birth posed for righteous people like Joseph. Righteousness in Matthew is fraught with ambiguity. The child is “from the Holy Spirit.” We need to grasp the theological significance of such an affirmation. To fail to do so is to obscure the basic connection between Jesus and the Holy Spirit. Jesus is not a man whom God subsequently gifted and impelled by the Spirit like others, like prophets, apostles, or even us. Jesus has the Spirit at first hand and from the very first.[40]
Matthew highlights two names for Jesus. As Jesus, (Yesua or Joshua, “Yahweh saves” or Yahweh is salvation,”) he saves his people from their sins that hold them in bondage. In the name Immanuel, this child’s birth was the “sign,” the proof, that God was with Joseph and the readers amid the crises they each faced. On the positive side, salvation is not only from sin, but also consists of God being with us. God intends salvation for the people of God. God never abandons humanity. The evangelist, master storyteller that he is, ends the gospel sounding the same note with which he began, when Jesus speaks its very final words: “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (28:20b). The gospel proclaims a hopeful vision for humanity even as it realistically recognizes the sin that strips us of our genuine humanity. In the birth of the child Jesus, we encounter not only the one who will save us from our sins but the fulfillment of the promise, “God is with us.”
We hear the Christmas angels the great glad tidings tell;
O come to us; abide with us, our Lord Emmanuel.
Jesus came to abide with us, to live with us, to stay with us forever. That is the work of Immanuel, God with us.
The flight of the family to Egypt (Matthew 2:13-23) runs the story of the exodus backward. Just as a divine word directed Moses to lead his people out of Egypt, to escape Pharaoh's cruelty and gain their freedom, now an angelic voice declares that only by returning to Egypt will Jesus safely escape Herod's murderous intentions. Herod's slaughter of the children is much like Pharaoh's treatment of the male Hebrew slave children (Exodus 1:22). The story is reminiscent of legends about Moses. Birth, naming, persecution, escape, and return all parallel Moses' early life. Matthew connects Jesus to Israel as the child of God receiving a call from God to come out of Egypt. The angel tells Joseph he can return to Israel because "those who were seeking the child's life are dead," just as Moses received instructions to return because the men "who were seeking your life are dead" (Exodus 4:19). He emphasizes the filial relationship between Jesus and the Father. He is symbolic of Israel even in his birth as he must leave Egypt and return to Nazareth and Galilee.
The overall view that Matthew's narrative assembles here is a moving picture portraying the surprising speed of both mission and madness. Many scholars think that Matthew's primary reason for including this text in his birth narrative is to show that from the moment of his birth, the life of Jesus was a divine replay of Israel's first deliverance. The wickedness and willfulness of Pharaoh return in the person of Herod the Great. Israel's historic exodus out of Egypt has its mirror in the "little exodus" of Jesus' family back into Egypt. Like the baby Moses, the baby Jesus is born under a death sentence, which necessitates drastic parental action. Both Moses and Jesus live under divinely imposed exile until a voice "re-calls" them by proclaiming that those who sought their lives are now themselves dead (see Exodus 4:19).
In the story of the birth of Jesus (Luke 2:1-20), the connection made with Bethlehem and the shepherds is with King David. Light has entered a world of darkness in this story. The story illuminates and liberates. Divine radiance streams over a dark earth. The story reminds us that we have good news of immense joy for humanity. The direction or orientation of this act of God is the flourishing of humanity. Human time reaches its fulfillment because this day of salvation has happened. In the sending of the Son, we see the triumph of the Father in making humanity the object of divine goodness. The sending of the Son means the Father embraces every aspect of our time without becoming identical with our time. With the Son will come peace and good will. Since the Son fulfills human time, our time is not lost or godless. [41]
Such an act of God generates the response of devotion and worship.
Come and worship,
Come and worship,
Worship Christ, the newborn King!
“Glory to the new born King,
peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled!”
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.
In the darkness
We were waiting
Without hope
Without light
Till from heaven
You came running
There was mercy in Your eyes
To fulfill the law and prophets
To a virgin came the Word
From a throne of endless glory
To a cradle in the dirt
Praise the Father
Praise the Son
Praise the Spirit
Three in one
God of glory
Majesty
Praise forever to the King of Kings
Such praise is an important part of the story of the birth of Jesus in Luke. His story includes the spirit of traditional Jewish piety in that it shows the parents of Jesus following the requirements of torah regarding their child. The pattern is like that of the presentation of Samuel at the sanctuary in the opening chapters of I Samuel, as Hannah and Eli form the background of his account. In that case, Samuel served in the significant tasks of worship in sanctuary at Shiloh, with his mother making a ceremonial garment for him every year as he grew in stature and with the priest Eli offering a blessing upon the family. Going unnoticed are the details, but recognizing that growth is gradual, the result of maturing physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually in favor with the Lord and with others (I Samuel 2:18-20, 26). At the same time, the story continues to identify who Jesus is. The Nunc Dimitis recognizes the new form of salvation offered in Jesus, who is the promised bearer of messianic peace, salvation, and light, acknowledging the significance of the wellbeing of Israel that now embraces the wellbeing of all nations, but also containing an ominous message that anticipates the cross. The childhood of Jesus goes unnoticed, but it is important for him, as the parents go back to the reality of raising a child to become an adult. Many of us are curious about this phase of the life of Jesus as well. However, the details of life as the son of a carpenter are not significant when related to the significance of his word and deed (Luke 2:22-40). The point of such stories from the birth and childhood of Jesus is that his adult baptism by John, as significant as it was, was the public revelation of what already was known to be true of him in his family life. His family life represents a form of Temple piety in first century Judaism. Jesus may well have referred to the temple as the house of his Father. One could assume that he displayed an early interest in the Temple and in the teachers of the law, giving early indications of his vocation in the service of the God of Israel who was his Father. Unlike the norm of the ancient household, his life would not be at the disposal of the household, the head of which was his father and mother. Jesus will grow up into his office as savior.[42] The parents of Jesus are described in terms of typical of the Old Testament and the piety of the first century Judaism. Jesus lived his early life in obedience to his parents, honoring them as the fifth commandment and many other places in the Torah commanded. He exhibited the piety typical of his time. Mary is responsive to the mystery that surrounds her so. Thus, we can assume some continuity between the unnoticed details of his early life with his later adult baptism by John, his word and deed as related in the gospels, his willingness to be obedient to this Father in suffering and death, and in his resurrection through the life-giving Spirit. When Christian disciples like Mary believed in Jesus as God's Son after the resurrection, they were finding adequate expression for intuitions that had begun long before. Like Samuel, he would grow in wisdom and in favor with God and others, reflecting Old Testament piety. Who was this boy? He early had a sense of divine calling, foreshadowing moments in his adult life. The call of God was already active in his life (Luke 2:41-52). This suggests that when we struggle with who we are our deeper need is to find ourselves in God’s space and in the calling God has for our lives. People who discover such a calling early life have a gift they may never fully appreciate. People who go through much of their lives with little awareness of the purpose God has for them in this time and this place may never know what they are missing. God has us here for something greater than providing for material life, engaging in idle talk, and engaging in trivial activity. When we are in the sphere of the love of our heavenly Father, we can grow in the wisdom we need for living the best life.
I have focused upon the theology of the season. My preaching and teaching have focused upon this, and for that reason, Christmas has always been a blessing to me as I get to find numerous ways to clarify who Jesus is for Christians and for the world. However, for some people, the only thing that matters is the Virgin Birth. The Apostles’ Creed is explicit: who was conceived of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. The Nicaean Creed (325) said Jesus “was incarnate and was made man,” being silent on how this happened. To say that Jesus Christ is “God in the flesh” makes no affirmation about how this happened. The First Council of Constantinople (381) is not silent as to how: “was incarnate by the Holy Ghost and of the Virgin Mary, and was made man.” I want to explain why the tradition should have stayed with the silence of the Nicaean Creed regarding how the Son was incarnate.
If we are going to change, we need to ask questions. Charles Handy, The Age of Unreason (p. 55-62) describes what he calls a wheel of learning. One begins with a question and goes on to developing theories for dealing with the question. The questioning process tests theories, the process concluding with a time of reflection and evaluation. One must stay on that wheel if one continues to change and learn. He stressed that learning takes place in its truest form when the question we have comes from within us. Then, the question becomes our question, and not the question of someone else. Those who have been through final exams know what that can mean. The teacher can say, "Learn this," write it on the board, and if you can repeat it back on the exam, you have "learned," it. Of course, we quickly forget those kinds of questions. However, the questions that come from within stay with us.
This sort of learning, the one from experience and life, is the one that matters if we are to change (62).
The church has an interest in change and learning. At its best, the church raises questions about values, even if it troubles us. I want to raise some questions with you.
• Why do I trust the authority of Jesus?
• What are the most obvious ways Jesus’ teachings have changed me in the last year?
• If not for Jesus’ authority over me, how would my choices look different this week?
• In what areas of my life am I not giving Jesus the authority he already has?
This leads us to questions of our own:
• What do Sunday sermons feel like to us: more information to acquire? Something we patiently wait through before kickoff that afternoon?
• Which is a more truthful expression for us: “I know about God” or “I know God”?
• Do we feel comfortable exploring questions about God?
• Are we in touch with our doubts and disbelief?
• Do we chase answers for questions we do not have answers to?
• Do our questions show the depth and hunger of our reflection about God?
• How has God made me wiser today than I was five years ago?
• How have I matured over the last five years?
• How has my reputation with nonbelievers changed?
• Is my reputation with my coworkers better, worse or the same?
• How would my family say I have grown over the last five years?
For some people, the virgin birth is an essential teaching of the church. Here is one of the few places where the tradition of the church, in bringing into its creed that Jesus was born of a virgin is on shaky biblical ground. Even if Matthew and Luke refer to a birth through a virgin rather than simply through a young woman, the rest of the New Testament is silent on the significance of his birth. Mark 3:21 gives no hint of Mary having had a previous angelic announcement, for when his family heard of what Jesus said, they restrained him, for people were saying he is going out of his mind. John 6:42 simply refers to Jesus as the son of Joseph, whose mother and father they know, so how can Jesus say he has come from heaven? Paul gives no awareness of the uniqueness of the birth of Jesus when he said God sent the Son, born of a woman and under the law (Galatians 4:4). This is an important early statement of the sending of Jesus because something like Jeremiah 1:4 is behind it, where the Lord formed the prophet in the womb. Given how his life ended, God had set him apart for this purpose. Paul did not puzzle about how this setting apart occurred. Even Matthew and Luke will not come back to it. Thus, the New Testament allows for greater diversity on this matter than does the tradition as contained in some of the creeds and as interpreted since the early 1900s by many evangelicals and all fundamentalists. I have never been part of a fundamentalist community of faith, but the evangelical community is one with which I have deep connection, even if I find myself parting company on certain common beliefs of that community. My own wish is that the evangelical community can broaden itself to include people who think the way I do regarding the theology of this season. If the tradition had followed the biblical texts, it would have left room for diversity here. I would draw the analogy with the approach of the tradition regarding eschatology, which affirms that Christ will return, but leaves much open to interpretation as to the nature of that return. In this case, the tradition narrowed the “how” of the sending of the Son to the Virgin Birth, when the New Testament has other possibilities. As if have made clear, the biblical background for the stories in the first two chapters of Matthew and Luke derive from the stories of the patriarchs in Genesis and the birth of Samuel, where the women favored by their husband were old enough to be considered unable to have children, yet they miraculously, but naturally, had a child. In the case of Jesus, it was known her mother gave him birth as a young woman, so they took another path to express the divine origin of the mission of Jesus.
Virgin birth stories were not part of the Jewish tradition. Rather, they were part of Greek history and religion. This means the entire legend of the virgin birth arose in the Hellenistic community.[43] Thus, Plutarch thought that Alexander the Great descended from Hercules but that his father Philip through miraculous intervention did not have intercourse with Olympias. [44] Philostratus says the mother of miracle worker Apollonius had an apparition of the great poet Proteus declaring that it was the father of the child within her.[45] Diogenes Laertius, after detailing the lineage of Plato, says a vision from Apollo kept the husband of his mother from his mother.[46] Understood in this intellectual climate, similarity rather than uniqueness is the point. Jesus of Nazareth is like and in the company of other great men of Hellenistic culture. Thus, one way to approach the virgin birth story is as a first century literary technique designed to make clear to readers, from the beginning, the significance of the hero of the story. Early Christians appear to have added the story of the virgin birth with the transformation to Hellenism, where the idea of the generation of a king or hero by the godhead was widespread.
Moving from the potentially divisive issue of how Jesus was incarnate, revealing who God is in his word and deed, I now return to such theological considerations.
While the mystery of the Infinite and Eternal God remains, Christians celebrate God getting local, getting up close and personal (John 1:1-18). God created all finite and temporal things, bringing all things into historical reality. The Word was present with God and present with the beginning of that which is distinct from God.[47] The Word was never distant from God. The Word stands outside the sequence of created things. No one escapes the Word. The Word precedes all being and all time. Given that the Word was not only with God but was God, the being of the Word and the being of God are identical, suggesting that the doctrine of “homoousion” in classical Christian theology is on the right track.[48] The fellowship between God and the Word, and by extension in the Trinitarian relation, finds correspondence in the fellowship between God and that which God has created. It speaks to the ontological connection between the Word and creation. The world is tightly bound to the Word and therefore to God. It speaks to the position, dignity, and power of the Creator that this passage also ascribes to the Word.[49] God created through the Word, manifesting itself in the world in the crucial metaphors of life and light which are open to every person. Here is life in the full sense, making the presence of life in the finite and temporal life with reservations. “Life” refers to the vitality of creation, which has its origin in the Logos. Life and light come together, which suggests the possibility of revelation. It refers to the enlightenment of human existence in order that humanity should understand itself in this world and find its way without anxiety. Light and revelation are the character of the life that entered through the Logos.[50] God becomes light that enlightens humanity in a world assaulted by the darkness. This light had a witness in John the Baptist so that others might believe. To state this belief in a Trinitarian way, Life in the full sense has a relation to its divine origin, permeated by the Spirit and the new life of eschatological hope. God revealed this new and imperishable life with the raising of Jesus into that life.[51] The Logos is never just an assemblage of words, but is always meaning, thought, or discourse. It means an orderly presentation. It could connect with God speaking finite and temporal things into historical reality. It could connect with the prophetic word of the Lord to the prophets, a word rejected by many but received by a remnant. It could connect with the notion of Wisdom, suggesting that this form of Wisdom is part of the world. Logos is the rational principle in the universe. Logos is the meaning, plan, or purpose that God has revealed and is active in the universe. The cosmos exhibits a divine meaning that constitutes its reality. Logos is the thought of God that is the transcendent design of the universe and its immanent meaning. We might even say something as bold as this. We will not really understand creation until we come to terms with the Son of God. Of course, we can understand it scientifically, but we will never have a proper view of it until we turn to Jesus. Since the Word embodies itself in Jewish flesh, this rational principle and Jewish Wisdom are embodied. It means that when see the world in this way, we are growing a philosophy of life or worldview in such a way that it influences our view of self, humanity, and world. It also means we know God through this Word. We know the will of God because of this gracious Word. God wills or chooses nothing apart from Christ. We can distinguish between this Infinite and Eternal Logos from its historical manifestation. This Infinite and Eternal Word who is life and light became historical reality. This Word became the Moment to which the churches witness throughout generations. Christianity affirms that we find truth, goodness, and beauty in an event within human history, in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. We learn that truth in the simple affirmation that “The Word became flesh,” and not just any flesh, but Jewish flesh. We learn that when the Word came into this world, the Word did not come as a stranger. The Word came to his own possession or people, and not to foreign territory. Those who did not receive him were not strangers, but his own people. Our resistance to the Word means that we need rebirth by the Spirit. If this divine Word became flesh, God intends to redeem this world and bring it into the eternal presence of God. Human sin as alienation from the Logos is something that the Incarnation of the Logos must overcome. The resistance that darkness presents means that we do not receive him unless we receive new birth through the Spirit.[52] Human beings depend upon their Creator. They participate in the Logos. The Logos is not alien to human nature. All creatures owe their independent existence to the creative activity of the Word in virtue of this self-distinction from God because the Logos is the basis of their creaturely independence as the generative principle of otherness. The nature of the Logos can find expression in all creatures. The Logos can do so in humans to a higher degree than in other creatures. The Incarnation is no alien thing, although it may seem alien to sinners alienated from the Logos. The Incarnation is the union of deity with humanity, suggesting that humanity cannot fulfill its destiny on its own finite strength. Only the Spirit, who lifts human beings above finitude, can enable humans to accept finitude, allowing the Trinitarian distinction of Father and Son take shape in it.[53] While many reject this Word, Light, and Life, some in the decisive act of belief or trust receive this Word. This decisive act, this Moment, is also a personal one. Belief or trust in what God has done in the Word becomes crucial. We have many roles in this world as human beings who are part of various groups. We are in families, places of work, communities, and nations. Yet, beyond all roles, the most important thing you can be is a child of God. The Word constitutes a people who did not possess the power to become children of God by their decision.[54] The Word constitutes and gathers a people that represent a new calling and personal faith distinct from what was present in Israel.[55] The vocation of the believer is nothing more nor less than to become a child of God, to be a Christian.[56]
This Infinite and Eternal Logos descends to the fleshly depths and becomes flesh. The Logos binds itself to human history. In one single area of the universe of space and time, we find the eternal archetype of Life and Light becoming part of the temporal order. This Word, by becoming flesh, dwelt among us, becoming a tabernacle, a sign or symbol of the presence of God. The Logos, who dwelt with God, entered the earthly, human, material, and perishable world by becoming flesh. This is something new. This is a real event. The Logos had already been present with God and present with creation as that which gives life to all that is. Now, the Logos becomes flesh and pitches a tent among human beings. This statement confronts us with the mystery of revelation. The Word speaks, acts, prevails, reveals, and reconciles while never ceasing to be the Word. The Word became a human being, participating in the same human essence and existence as any of us. The Word is divine, and therefore God touches every human being in the Incarnation. Somehow, miraculously, the Word “became” flesh without surrendering divinity. The significance of this becoming of the Word as Jewish flesh is that the Old Testament is a record of the ways in which Israel broke the covenant it had with the Lord and thereby received judgment from the Lord. For the Word to become this flesh reveals the determination of the Word to redeem a rebellious humanity. Sinful humanity and a broken creation still bear the marks of their creator. God created us for a relationship with God, and in the Word, God shows us what that relationship looks like. The Word brings humanity into fellowship with the Trinity. In this way, human beings can find God in the Word become flesh.[57] The Logos reveals human life in its fullness, and thus, that human life has significance and is full of meaning, will, and purpose.[58] This approach to the Incarnation is beneficial in that it focuses upon the uniqueness of the embodied Word as the revelation of God. This revelatory function of the Logos arises out of also associating the Logos with involvement in creation.[59]
A devout Jew will have reverence for the Torah. A devout Muslim will have reverence for the Quran. A devout Christian has reverence for the embodied Word. This Word is precious beyond measure. I understand that it offends others.
"Allah is one, the eternal one of God. ... He begot none nor was he begotten. None are equal to him. ... Those who say that the God has begotten a son preach a monstrous falsehood, which the very heavens might crack, the heavens break asunder, and the mountains crumble to dust. It does not become the holy God to beget a son." (Surah 7:8)
That to which the Quran objects is precisely what Christians have come to believe. A Jewish boy growing up in Nazareth, baptized by John, preaching on the Galilean hills, crucified in Jerusalem, is the very person who lived so uniquely related to God that we call him "Son of God." We had nothing to do with it. It is what God has done. For us, this is good news.
This Logos is the glory, light, radiance, and splendor as the only Son of the Father, full of grace and truth. People today receive grace through this Word. Thus, torah came through Moses, but enduring love came Jesus Christ, as John finally names the Logos. The revelation of the Word in Israel and in Jesus tells us the truth about the world. God is with us since the world came into being through the Word. The creative Word becomes actual in the affirmation found in Emmanuel, God with us. Thus, although no human being can see the Infinite and Eternal, the Son is close to the heart of the Father and thus makes God known. The love relationship between Father and Son is one into which those who believe have an invitation to live in as well. The followers of Jesus participate in the fullness of the Son. Jesus Christ is the Word become flesh, but also superior, exalted, genuine, and glorious human being. Divinity hides in Jesus of Nazareth; while at the same time is blinding light in Jesus of Nazareth.[60] To know the incomprehensible God, one must hold fast to the Son. The divine is incomprehensible to us in our finitude. Yet, the Son discloses or reveals the divine in such a way that the hidden God becomes manifest. Of course, even this revelation waits for a future unveiling in which all will become clear.[61] The Logos implies a personal quality to God in that God speaks. The Word is the revelation of God in proclamation and Scripture. The Word is identical with God. The revelation of God is Jesus Christ. The Word is the revelation and the revealer. In Trinitarian language, the Word is the Son.[62] The Word contains the essence of the speaker. To hear this Word as true requires faith on our part.[63] The eternal divine Logos was this man, Jesus, and this man, Jesus, was in the beginning with God. This man, Jesus Christ, opens the door of communion with the divine life.[64]
Christianity is a revealed religion. We are not about simply delving into the psyche or about stumbling upon God by a walking in nature. Our common human experience will not lead us to what Christians believe about God. All that we know of God comes to us as a gift from God. If God did not choose, out of love for us, to reveal who God is to us, then we would not know God. We would still be in the dark. We would still be religious, but we would have only our imagination to fill in all the blanks about a meaningful and purposeful life. To live within a Christian view of God, you must be willing to take a step of faith in a revelation. God has a human face, the face of Jesus.
For those Christians who think the church needs to demote this revelation to something less absolute regarding our knowledge of God, everything I have written here would offend. I understand the desire to be humble and embracing those who believe differently about God and the world. Those qualities are important for all believers, but that does not mean surrendering that which is the heart of Christianity. Christianity did not figure all this out by reasoning itself to it but accepted it as revelation.
Imagine a king who fell in love with a peasant girl. How could he tell her of his love? Of course, he could come in all his royal power and might, overwhelm her with his glory, sweep her off her feet, bring her to the palace, and live happily ever after. Then, would he ever know if she really loved him, or just the things with which he provided her. No, instead, the king decides to become a peasant himself, to dress and in every way become a peasant, and seek to win her love. Then he would know it was a genuine love for him, rather than only what he could do for her.[65]
I have sought to explore the theology of the texts faithfully. I do so aware that the secularity and scientific nature of contemporary culture presents a unique challenge to this teaching. The bold claim of Christian teaching and preaching is helping people see the reality of the meaning and purpose God has for their lives. Christ is the center of that reality. It is difficult to imagine that the one who is the source of such immense universe that has evolved for around 14 billion years, provided the conditions for humanity to emerge from that process just a couple hundred thousand years ago, and cared enough for the universe and for humanity to send the Son to this earth. It is so difficult that some in our modern culture have decided it is impossible. The secularity of our age suggests that darkness or nothingness is the “ultimate truth” of human existence, whether our personal death, the death of the earth, or the death of the universe. It also suggests that it will take courage to lead a meaningful human life considering our nothingness. We arise every day to fulfill our various tasks, knowing the nothingness of our end. Any meaning we discover along the way is through the connections we develop with others. All this may well be true. That is why the hope presented in texts like this will require the response of faith in the promises of God. What are human beings, of what significance are they within the immensity of the universe as science describes it? Yet, the Incarnation delivers the amazing and miraculous news that each of us matters to the God who is the source of it all. The Incarnation concerns the uniqueness and universality of what the Father has done in sending the Son, in the power of the life-giving and life-sustaining Spirit, to live as one who served as a teacher, healer, and liberator, and as one who showed the full extent of divine love by the supreme sacrifice of himself for the sins of his followers in abandoning him and for the sins of enemies in judging him worthy of death, thereby dying for the sins of humanity in every age and culture. The story is one that invites us to see human life in a specific way. We are in darkness spiritually unless we reach out for healing, guidance, and liberation we need that will come not from us but from God. I would encourage you to try it.
Third, what we have been considering is truth from a Christian perspective. Truth is an event, a revelation, a Moment that becomes decisive. When we by faith and hope embrace this truth, it will call us toward a new life. We will need to explore the texture of that life.
Because of what the Father has done in sending the Son at a chronological time, the Holy Spirit now makes it possible for every moment to become just the right time, just the right moment or event, for each of us who hear the message. The character of God is such that divine goodness and love overflows to that which God has created. Goodness and love are such that one cannot keep them to oneself. They must show themselves. When they do, they further identify God as our savior. The saving love of God moves toward human beings because is the movement of divine mercy. Therefore, divine love does not rest upon how loving and good human beings are. The presence of love and goodness and love in the world do not rest fully upon human activity. Given the record of human history, we can be grateful for that. Human beings can do nothing to change this disposition of God to show love, goodness, and mercy. We deceive ourselves greatly if we think that we have been so good and loving that God could do nothing else. The waters of baptism symbolize our reception of the mercy of God. The Holy Spirit brings the renewal to our lives that awareness of divine goodness and love will bring into our lives. If it were not for Jesus Christ, we would not experience this renewing presence of the Holy Spirit. All of this suggests that our relationship with God has its foundation in divine grace, providing hope for eternal life (Titus 3:4-7).
We rightly think of this as the triumph of grace. Such grace claims us for God apart from our worthiness or unworthiness. The reality of such grace can reassure us and transform us. Each of us is precious to God. When we know we are God’s beloved, irreplaceable children, we are able not only to survive a world that is relentlessly measuring our worth, but we can also work to change this world into one that more clearly manifests the coming rule of God. We can, increasingly, come to see others also as irreplaceable, treating them accordingly, living differently together as members of the beloved community.[66] We can realize that we are not failure-free children of God, but we are forgivable children of God. We can think of such grace as free and as a gift because God has borne the cost and paid the price. If we have the eyes to see, grace is everywhere. Because this grace has already appeared in Christ, we steadily grow in our ability to see life through the lens of grace. We look through the lens of our glasses or contacts, rather than take note of the lens itself. In a comparable way, grace will go unnoticed precisely because they are the lens through which we see life. The appearing of this grace is in Jesus Christ. We can easily think of God above us, as Wholly Other than us, and that God is God and we are not. Many philosophers and theologians find it easy to develop such a notion of God as transcendent and powerful. The notion of God within us is also reasonably popular. Many mystics, devotional writers, philosophers, and so on, are comfortable thinking of God as that inner force that develops conscience. God is intimate and personal for such persons. Some have begun to think of God as between us, that force that enables relationships between human beings. Emmanuel, God with us, suggests one whom we can trust, even in our times of despair and defeat. God with us gives us real and sustained hope.[67] To say that such grace has appeared in Jesus Christ is to say that God is immanent in our lowliness, suffering, and temptation. This means God, who is active, unbreakable, and transcendent, has embraced our suffering, breakability, and temporality. Since not everyone has heard of the grace or salvation offered through Christ, the task of the church is to bring such the good news of this grace to all. Such grace becomes a form of teaching or education of our character that leads us to proper ethical action, such as genuine devotion, properly directed passion, self-control, just, and devout action (Titus 2:11-14). The best philosophy around the world recognizes such actions as virtuous. Just as the people of God participate in the sins of humanity, we also participate in its virtues. Grace is the kind of gift that causes followers of Christ to lay aside the useless and temporal gifts the world offers as shiny inducements to happiness and instead reorder their lives after the pattern of the Gift. Thus, it takes more courage than we know to sing:
O Holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us, we pray.
Cast out our sin, and enter in.
Be born in us today.
The life of self-control, uprightness, and godliness consists in the life of expectation, a strained looking forward and upward, with this person, Jesus Christ, who is God and Savior, as the object.[68] Identifying Christ as Savior suggests the image that in his death, he gave himself, his life, for others. Christ stepped into our place. His obedience to his Father consisted in suffering in our place the death of the godless, who have surrendered to worldly desires. He died the death of Adam. In his resurrection, he also took our place, receiving the clothes of wisdom, righteousness, and holiness that God intended for us at creation.[69] In giving his life for others, for us, he brought our redemption from our tendency to act sinfully rather than virtuously. In becoming a people who belong to Christ, Christ energizes to be a people passionate about leading a virtuous life that brings honor to Christ. Christ comes into our lives to free us from the sin that oppresses us. Our lives become our offering to God.
The character of the Christian is significant. It concerns the type of lifestyle appropriate for those who have laid claim to the promise of a new life in Christ. Such a notion provides a connection between Christian life and the virtue tradition of the Greeks and Romans, and with all cultures. They would become habit forming even as Aristotle thought of virtue in the context of the Athenian city-state in which he lived. Virtue is an acquired excellence of character that renders a person capable over the long haul of behaving in reliable ways. It will take practice in everyday life in the various communities to which we relate to make these virtues a habit. Such virtues develop as we practice them in the communities that intersect our lives, and thus are not the result of abstract thought. Such concerns run the risk of a moralistic community, in which the community turns from a concern for the Christian life properly lived and toward legalism. The risk of not connecting faith in the truth that God has revealed in Jesus Christ with its ethical implications is the risk of abstraction. If we care about how people live their lives, then we need to accept the risks involved and move forward. Acknowledging truth would become a purely intellectual matter that would have no effect upon the way one lived. An effective way to avoid the legalistic path is to remember the following.
Character flows out of divine election or choice, their status as holy, and their status as beloved. Here is the basis of the covenant between God and us, a choice that unites the people of God throughout history. The assurance of this divine choice sustains us even when circumstances suggest the contrary. This status of divine choosing, holiness, and love by God becomes the basis for ethical exhortation. Baptism is a symbol of removing one set of clothing for another. Baptism is a human response to the witness offered by the people of God, uniting us with a community. Therefore, while baptism is an affirmation of faith, it is also a commitment to be for others in designated ways. In a sense, by faith we put on Christ, but by love we put on our neighbor. Such love leads to concert for the neighbor and to the development of Christian character. That character includes heartfelt sympathy, a quality necessary since the community to which we have united in our baptism is a weak one and the world in which we live is weak and rebellious. It includes moral goodness. It includes having a humble opinion of oneself, unselfishness and of modesty. It suggests gentleness, contrasting sharply with the anger so prevalent in many human relationships and cultures. It suggests patience, which shows itself in bearing the weakness of each other, given that even within the community of believers such virtues are not practiced often, doing so without complaint with forgiveness toward them, even as Christ has forgiven us. Love is the sum of all the mercy, goodness, humility, long-suffering and mutual forbearance and forgiveness that those whom God choses, sanctifies, and loves are to put on as a garment what has prepared for them and suits them. Love is the bond that unites all the individual elements that embraces their activity and from which they move toward their goal. Love is the fulfilling of the Law.[70] The writings of John find the source of the centrality of love in the command of Jesus. Jesus gives them the new commandment to love each other, even as Christ has loved them (13:34). His commandment is that they are to love each other as Christ loved them (15:12). He gives them these commands so that they will love each other (15:17). The message his readers have heard from the beginning is that they should love each other (I John 3:11). The writings of Paul continue this emphasis upon the centrality of love. They are to owe no one anything but to love each other, and by doing so they fulfill the law (Romans 13:8). While faith, hope, and love abide, love is the greatest (I Corinthians 13:13). The only thing that counts is faith working through love (Galatians 5:6). The point is that the community is developing persons toward Christian character, which means none of us has reached the goal. Such development of character will lead to peace that comes from Christ that acts as an umpire when disputes arise. A spirit of gratitude is to permeate the community in all of this as it gives priority to the apostolic witness concerning Jesus, which is the primary source of Christian wisdom. Reliance upon other sources of wisdom will always threaten the unity of the body of Christ and threaten its connection to the head of the church, the Risen Christ. The development of such Christian character provides the context in which we can teach and admonish each other with wisdom and inspires us to offer heartful praise in the form of music. All this allows to focus upon doing everything in the name of Jesus Christ (Colossians 3:12-17). Some good practical advice in such matters is to forget an act of kindness as soon as we do it. If someone praises us, forget it quickly. If you hear a piece of slander, forget it before you can repeat it. Forget the wrong done to you quickly. Remember your promises. When people help you, remember gratitude. Remember the happiness you experience in your life. Forget that which worries or distresses. Remain hopeful and forgiving. Remember what is good and true.[71]
The texts of this season give us opportunities to explore truth from a Christian perspective. They also open the way for considering the texture of a life that seeks to live within that truth.
[1] Story of Carlo Carretto, Blessed are you who Believed, 1983, p. 3-4.
[2] —Michael Lindvall, "Christ and Christmas," Presbyterian Outlook, December 7, 2015.
[3] —Frederick Buechner, The Faces of Jesus: A Life Story (Paraclete, 2014).
[4] —Michael Lindvall, "Christ and Christmas," Presbyterian Outlook, December 7, 2015.
[5] --Jeffrey Blum, Living With Spirit in a Material World (Fawcett, 1988).
[6] --Jeffrey Blum, who describes himself as a recovering materialist, in Living with Spirit in a Material World (Fawcett, 1988).
[7] (Clovis Chappel, quoted by Bill Schwein, December 22, 1991).
[8] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 246.
[9] In Reflections on Psalms (93-95), C.S. Lewis brilliantly uncovers the true nature of praise, which I have adapted here.
[10] Barth (Church Dogmatics I.2 [14.2] 83-84).
[11] Pannenberg, (Systematic Theology, Volume I, 213)
[12] Barth (Church Dogmatics III.1 [41.1] 53-54)
[13] Barth (Church Dogmatics IV.3 [71.4] 584)
[14] Barth (IV.3 [96.2] 93-94)
[15] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology Volume 2, 208)
[16] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume 2, 34
[17] Barth (Church Dogmatics I.1 [10.1])
[18] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology Volume 2, 22)
[19] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology Volume 2, 402)
[20] Fred Craddock
[21] Pannenberg, (Systematic Theology Volume 2, 384)
[22] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 143.
[23] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 456. Barth famously has a Christocentric doctrine of election, in which the man Jesus Christ is the all-embracing object of divine election in the sense that we are also elect in Christ. He went to this verse for his support. Church Dogmatics II.2, 106-111
[24] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 459-61.
[25] Pannenberg Systematic Theology Volume 2, 430.
[26] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 449-50.
[27] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 453-4.
[28] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 1, 414, 441.
[29] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 24-5.
[30] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 32.
[31] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 58.
[32] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 58.
[33] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 2, 63.
[34] Athanasius, On the Incarnation, 6-10.
[35] Poem by Leslie Leyland Fields and is quoted in Jan Karon's book.
[36] (Carl E. Braaten, Stewards of the Mysteries [Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1983], pp. 27–28.)
[37] (Paul Scherer, Love Is a Spendthrift [New York: Harper, 1961], pp. 16–17.)
[38] Raymond Brown (The Birth of the Messiah [New York: Doubleday, 1993], 97-98):
[39] Rudolph Schnackenburg
[40] Barth (Church Dogmatics, IV.2 [64.4], 324)
[41] Barth (Church Dogmatics, II.1 [31.3], 623-25) Barth will say that this verse is the strongest indication of what he means by the notion of the supra-temporality of God.
[42] Barth (Church Dogmatics III.2 [44.1], 57)
[43] Pannenberg (Jesus God and Man, 142)
[44] From Plutarch, Alexander, 2.1-3.5 (75 AD)
It is agreed on by all hands, that on the father's side, Alexander descended from Hercules by Caranus, and from Aeacus by Neoptolemus on the mother's side. His father Philip, being in Samothrace, when he was quite young, fell in love there with Olympias, in company with whom he was initiated in the religious ceremonies of the country, and her father and mother being both dead, soon after, with the consent of her brother, Arymbas, he married her. The night before the consummation of their marriage, she dreamed that a thunderbolt fell upon her body, which kindled a great fire, whose divided flames dispersed themselves all about, and then were extinguished. And Philip, some time after he was married, dreamt that he sealed up his wife's body with a seal, whose impression, as be fancied, was the figure of a lion. Some of the diviners interpreted this as a warning to Philip to look narrowly to his wife; but Aristander of Telmessus, considering how unusual it was to seal up anything that was empty, assured him the meaning of his dream was that the queen was with child of a boy, who would one day prove as stout and courageous as a lion. Once, moreover, a serpent was found lying by Olympias as she slept, which more than anything else, it is said, abated Philip's passion for her; and whether he feared her as an enchantress, or thought she had commerce with some god, and so looked on himself as excluded, he was ever after less fond of her conversation. Others say, that the women of this country having always been extremely addicted to the enthusiastic Orphic rites, and the wild worship of Bacchus (upon which account they were called Clodones, and Mimallones), imitated in many things the practices of the Edonian and Thracian women about Mount Haemus, from whom the word threskeuein seems to have been derived, as a special term for superfluous and over-curious forms of adoration; and that Olympias, zealously, affecting these fanatical and enthusiastic inspirations, to perform them with more barbaric dread, was wont in the dances proper to these ceremonies to have great tame serpents about her, which sometimes creeping out of the ivy in the mystic fans, sometimes winding themselves about the sacred spears, and the women's chaplets, made a spectacle which men could not look upon without terror.
Philip, after this vision, sent Chaeron of Megalopolis to consult the oracle of Apollo at Delphi, by which he was commanded to perform sacrifice, and henceforth pay particular honour, above all other gods, to Ammon; and was told he should one day lose that eye with which he presumed to peep through that chink of the door, when he saw the god, under the form of a serpent, in the company of his wife. Eratosthenes says that Olympias, when she attended Alexander on his way to the army in his first expedition, told him the secret of his birth, and bade him behave himself with courage suitable to his divine extraction. Others again affirm that she wholly disclaimed any pretensions of the kind, and was wont to say, "When will Alexander leave off slandering me to Juno?"
Alexander was born the sixth of Hecatombaeon, which month the Macedonians call Lous, the same day that the temple of Diana at Ephesus was burnt; which Hegesias of Magnesia makes the occasion of a conceit, frigid enough to have stopped the conflagration. The temple, he says, took fire and was burnt while its mistress was absent, assisting at the birth of Alexander. And all the Eastern soothsayers who happened to be then at Ephesus, looking upon the ruin of this temple to be the forerunner of some other calamity, ran about the town, beating their faces, and crying that this day had brought forth something that would prove fatal and destructive to all Asia.
Just after Philip had taken Potidaea, he received these three messages at one time, that Parmenio had overthrown the Illyrians in a great battle, that his race-horse had won the course at the Olympic games, and that his wife had given birth to Alexander; with which being naturally well pleased, as an addition to his satisfaction, he was assured by the diviners that a son, whose birth was accompanied with three such successes, could not fail of being invincible.
[45] From Philostratus(170-247 AD), Life of Apollonius of Tyana, 1st Century miracleworker.
[§4] Apollonius' home, then, was Tyana, a Greek city amidst a population of Cappadocians. His father was of the same name [i.e., Apollonius], and the family descended from the first settlers. It excelled in wealth the surrounding families, though the district is a rich one.
To his mother, just before he was born, there came an apparition of Proteus, who changes his form so much in Homer,[4] in the guise of an Egyptian demon. She was in no way frightened, but asked him what sort of child she would bear. And he answered: "Myself."
"And who are you?" she asked.
"Proteus," answered he, "the god of Egypt."
Well, I need hardly explain to readers of the poets the quality of Proteus and his reputation as regards wisdom; how versatile he was, and for ever changing his form, and defying capture, and how he had a reputation of knowing both past and future. And we must bear Proteus in mind all the more, when my advancing story shows its hero to have been more of a prophet than Proteus, and to have triumphed over many difficulties and dangers in the moment when they beset him most closely.
[§5] Now he is said to have been born in a meadow, hard by which there has been now erected a sumptuous temple to him; and let us not pass by the manner of his birth. For just as the hour of his birth was approaching, his mother was warned in a dream to walk out into the meadow and pluck the flowers; and in due course she came there and her maids attended to the flowers, scattering themselves over the meadow, while she fell asleep lying on the grass.
Thereupon the swans who fed in the meadow set up a dance around her as she slept, and lifting their wings, as they are wont to do, cried out aloud all at once, for there was somewhat of a breeze blowing in the meadow. She then leaped up at the sound of their song and bore her child, for any sudden fright is apt to bring on a premature delivery.
But the people of the country say that just at the moment of the birth, a thunderbolt seemed about to fall to earth and then rose up into the air and disappeared aloft; and the gods thereby indicated, I think, the great distinction to which the sage was to attain, and hinted in advance how he should transcend all things upon earth and approach the gods, and signified all the things that he would achieve.
[§6] Now there is near Tyana a well sacred to Zeus, the god of paths, so they say, and they call it the well of Asbama. Here a spring rises cold, but bubbles up like a boiling cauldron. This water is favorable and sweet to those who keep their paths, but to perjurers it brings hot-footed justice; for it attacks their eyes and hands and feet, and they fall the prey of dropsy and wasting disease; and they are not even able to go away, but are held on the spot and bemoan themselves at the edge of the spring, acknowledging their perjuries.
The people of the country, then, say that Apollonius was the son of this Zeus, but the sage called himself the son of Apollonius.
[46] From Diogenes Laertius (200-250 AD), Lives of Eminent Philosophers, 3.1-3, 30
I. PLATO was the son of Ariston and Perictione or Petone, and a citizen of Athens; and his mother traced her family back to Solon; for Solon had a brother named Diopidas, who had a son named Critias, who was the father of Calloeschrus, who was the father of that Critias who was one of the thirty tyrants, and also of Glaucon, who was the father of Charmides and Perictione. And she became the mother of Plato by her husband Ariston, Plato being the sixth in descent from Solon. And Solon traced his pedigree up to Neleus and Neptune. They say too that on the father's side, he was descended from Codrus, the son of Melanthus, and they too are said by Thrasylus to derive their origin from Neptune. And Speusippus, in his book which is entitled the Funeral Banquet of Plato, and Clearchus in his Panegyric on Plato, and Anaxilides in the second book of his History of Philosophers, say that the report at Athens was that Perictione was very beautiful, and that Ariston endeavoured to violate her and did not succeed; and that he, after he had desisted from his violence saw a vision of Apollo in a dream, in consequence of which he abstained from approaching his wife till after her confinement.
II. And Plato was born, as Apollodorus says in his Chronicles, in the eighty-eighth Olympiad, on the seventh day of the month Thargelion, on which day the people of Delos say that Apollo also was born. And he died as Hermippus says, at a marriage feast, in the first year of the hundred and eighth Olympiad, having lived eighty-one years. But Neanthes says that he was eighty-four years of age at his death. He is then younger than Isocrates by six years; for Isocrates was born in the archonship of Lysimachus, and Plato in that of Aminias, in which year Pericles died.
III. And he was of the borough of Colytus, as Antileon tells us in his second book on Dates. And he was born, according to some writers, in Aegina in the house of Phidiades the son of Thales, as Favorinus affirms in his Universal History, as his father had been sent thither with several others as a settler, and returned again to Athens when the settlers were driven out by the Lacedaemonians, who came to the assistance of the Aeginetans. And he served the office of choregus at Athens, when Dion was at the expense of the spectacle exhibited, as Theodorus relates in the eighth book of his Philosophical Conservations.
If fav'ring Phoebus had not Plato given
To Grecian lands, how would the learned God
Have e'er instructed mortal minds in learning?
But he did send him, that as Aesculapius
His son's the best physician of the body,
So Plato should be of the immortal soul.
Phoebus, to bless mankind, became the father
Of Aesculapius, and of god-like Plato;
That one to heal the body, this the mind.
Now, from a marriage feast he's gone to heaven.
To realize the happy city there,
Which he has planned fit for the realms of Jove.
[47] Barth (Church Dogmatics., III.1 [40], 14)
[48] Barth (Church Dogmatics, II.2 [33.1] 95-99) Barth is willing to go the direction of discussing Christ as electing and elected God. Christ is the decree of God behind and above which one can find no earlier or higher decree of God since all others serve only the fulfillment of this decree. Christ is the election of God before which and without which and beside which God cannot make any other choices. Without Christ, God does not elect or will anything. Christ is the election of the free grace of God. Christ is the free grace of God inwardly within God, but also expressed in the ways and works of God. Christ is the divine election of grace. He is the Word of God, the decree of God, and the beginning of God.
[49] Dodd (Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel, 51)
[50] Barth (Church Dogmatics IV.3 [69.1] 9
[51] Barth (Church Dogmatics, II, 347)
[52] Pannenberg (Systematic Theology, II, 295)
[53] Barth (Church Dogmatics, II, 385-6)
[54] Barth (Church Dogmatics I.2 [15.2], 151)
[55] Barth (Church Dogmatics III.1 [41.1] 51-52)
[56] Barth (Church Dogmatics IV.3 [71.3] 521)
[57] Barth (Church Dogmatics I.2 [15.1-2], 122-171)
[58] Barth (Church Dogmatics III.2 [46.1], 335)
[59] Barth (Church Dogmatics ibid, II, 237)
[60] Barth (Church Dogmatics IV.2 [64.4] 353)
[61] Barth (Church Dogmatics IV.2 [64.4] 353)
[62] Barth (Church Dogmatics, I.1 [5.2], p. 137)
[63] Barth (Church Dogmatics, I.1 [11.2], 436)
[64] Barth (Church Dogmatics, III.2 [44.1], 66)
[65] (Soren Kierkegaard, Philosophical Fragments, 32-35).
[66] Inspired by Cynthia Rigby, “Grace, mystery, beauty and freedom: Four takeaways of Reformed theology,” The Presbyterian Outlook, January 7, 2019.
[67] Inspired by Jürgen Moltmann, “Hope and History,” Theology Today, October 1968, p. 376
[68] Barth, Church Dogmatics II.2 [37.3] 607.
[69] Barth, Church Dogmatics II.2 [37.3] 607.
[70] Barth, Church Dogmatics IV.2 [68.3], 784.
[71]Inspired by a source unknown.
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