Christmas Eve - God Came Near Pt.II

The morning started like any other morning…the city bustling with its normal busy-ness. Vendors positioning themselves for the day’s profits on the corners of heavily trafficked highways and by-ways. Street dogs are barking and children awake wide-eyed, roused from their sleep by the noise of the tiny town coming to life.

The inn-keeper awakes, likely as busy as anyone, for the all the beds had been filled the night before. Does his mind drift to the young couple soon-expecting a child? How did they sleep in the stable last night? Did they even catch their names? Were they the topic of conversation at the breakfast table the next morning? Had anyone checked on them this morning? Maybe…maybe not. After all, what attention would young couple expecting child really draw?

But, was there time to carry on about such worries anyway? The imposed census had created quite the buzz…and economic boost!…in the too-little-to-be-remembered town of Bethlehem. So, it’s not likely they were too worried about the girl or her condition. There was bread to be made…chores to be done…life to be seen to.

So in their hustle, what did they miss? The fact that God had come into the world. In a stable that likely smelled of animal stench, on a stone floor maybe covered in hay, God had come. Had the shepherds lingered? After all, their night had been gloriously interrupted by an explosion of heavenly light and angelic chorus: Glory to God in the highest and earth, peace among those with whom He is well-pleased. Maybe it was the excitement of it all…maybe the hillside actually shook when they sang…regardless, it was simultaneously the most exhilarating and terrifying experience they’d ever had. But I digress.

The father sits at Mary’s side, dozing, finding it a little difficult to keep his eyes open. When was the last time he sat down? The rush of adrenaline gone, the tired has set in now that mom and child are comfortable. The mystery of all that’s happened still seems…surreal? There’s a host of questions that race through his mind, perhaps the most prominent of them: is all of it…true? I mean, here He is. But, conceived of the Holy Spirit? But an angel appeared to me…an angel?…an angel! But he spoke the words of the prophet, “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call His name Immanuel.” Is this really God with us? So tiny, so frail, so helpless? And how exactly will He save His people from their sins? Will He grow up to be a mighty leader? A great warrior like His ancient ancestor King David? Too tired to not doze, too filled with wandering questions to sleep, Joseph watched his young wife with their baby boy named Jesus.

And Mary, how young she looks?! She’s at peace now, a welcomed change from the pains of childbirth. She cradled her baby boy in her lap, holding the hands of the hands that made her. This is her baby. This is her Lord. Majesty, yet veiled in the flesh of a child. She considers what she knows about this little one — this is Jesus, “God saves.” He’s going to reign on David’s throne. She’s holding God, and at that moment, a teenage girl in Bethlehem knows more than anyone has ever known about God, for in this child, the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, the final and greatest Word of God lays helpless in His mother’s arms. She can’t stop staring at Him. So this is Him, the One whose kingdom will never end? She begins to quietly sing the refrain that has been with here since she visited her cousin Elizabeth,

Luke 1:46–55 ESV

And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant. For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name. And his mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; he has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate; he has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his offspring forever.”

It all happened in a moment, both remarkable and unnoticed by most, all in the same. There is no record of the heavens pausing in this moment, no supernatural shroud on the land like that which was brought about by His death. Just…a moment, a newborn baby, in most ordinary means, making His way into the world. By all accounts, it was just an ordinary moment, yet the most extraordinary moment, for God became a man. While creation carried on about its own perilous way, Divinity arrived.

“The omnipotent, in one instant, made Himself breakable. He who had been spirit became pierce-able. He who was larger than the universe became an embryo. And He who sustains the world with a word chose to be dependent upon the nourishment of a young girl.

“God was given eyebrows, elbows.

“God had come near,” and the first hands to hold Him were calloused and dirty, not manicured. There was no silk, no ivory, no pomp and circumstance.

Yet, God came near, and He would stay near. For thirty-three years, He lived life like we live life. He laughed and loved. He was tempted and tried. He knew hunger pangs. He cried. Our Savior cried, from a place of deep pain and sorrow and brokenness. More than once. He was moved in His gut, particularly over the effects of sin. There were certainly times of elation: “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” There were times of anger: “Zeal for Your house will consume” and so He drives out the money changers, exclaiming, “Take these things away; do not make my Father’s house a house of trade.” He got worn out, and He felt the cold. He knew what it was to be sustained and energized, and He knew weakness and pain.

Is this irreverent? Uncomfortable at least? Easier to deal with the incarnation without the carnality of it all? Would we rather make a manure-less manger? Pretend Jesus never really lived life as a human, never laughed and told John jokes around the fire at night? There’s something about a god who is easy to predict. There’s something calming about a god who is pre-packaged and distant, but that’s not the God who came near. Don’t shut Christ out of His humanity, nor protect Him from the muck and the mire and the brokenness of our world. He’s the One who came near, right down into the mess of our world, right into the chaos of our own lives, in order to pull us out.

When you find it hard to love your neighbor, remember that the man who taught us to do so was hated by his neighbor to the point of being put to death.

The challenge to love God so much that it looks like you hate even your own family? That was given by someone who entrusted His own mother to the care of another while He went away to embrace the cross.

Pray for those who persecute you was spoken by the one who prayed for the forgiveness of others while they literally mocked Him during His state-sponsored murder.

I am with you always was promised by the One who came to dwell with us in the first place, in order to make it all possible for us to even be with Him at all.

In a moment, yes, a most remarkable moment, the Divine took on flesh.

“Majesty in the midst of the mundane. Holiness in the filth of sheep manure and sweat. Divinity entering the world on the floor of a stable through the womb of a teenager and in the presence of a carpenter. This baby had overlooked the universe,” and now He’s dressed in simple rags to keep Him warm, yet somehow they’re simultaneously the robes of an eternal King. “His golden throne…had been abandoned in favor of a dirty sheep pen. And worshiping angels had been replaced with kind but bewildered shepherds.”

And just outside, the town bustled and the people went about their business. An unaware innkeeper just supplied the birthing room for the Savior of the world, and did he even know? The Messiah lay in his teenage mother’s arms, and most of the world was mostly marred in the commotion of the day, unaware that the greatest miracle of all had just happened - God took on flesh.

It has been said, “Christianity, in its purest form, is nothing more than seeing Jesus. Christian service, in its purest form, is nothing more than imitating Him who we see. To see His Majesty and to imitate Him, that is the sum of Christianity.

“Those who missed His Majesty’s arrival that night missed it not because of evil acts or malice; no, they missed it because they simply weren’t looking.” But honestly, how much has changed? How often do we miss the Savior because our longing gaze has been cast in a different direction?

To see and to savor the Savior, that’s why we’ve gathered tonight. To remind ourselves of the true love and joy and beauty of Christmas. And to remember that grace has called us to look upon the Savior, to see “The true Light, which gives light to everyone,” who “was coming into the world.” That in Him, we might find “life…the light of men.” And then to take that light and shine it in a dark world, that they might not miss the Savior’s arrival…that they might see and savor the Savior, that they might know that God has come near.