So this is Christmas …
John 1:1-14; Hebrews 1:1-12; Psalm 98; Isaiah 52:7-10
Last night we heard of Jesus birth, as told in Luke 2. We heard that Joseph and Mary, while travelling to Bethlehem because of Augustus’ census, found themselves spending the night with some animals while Mary gave birth to Jesus. We heard of the good news told to the shepherds by the angels, and how they went to Bethlehem to see the child they had been told about. And then we heard of how Jesus saved us from sin and death to live our lives as his followers and in the end to have eternal life.
Yesterday we looked primarily at Jesus’ human side — the things he did while he was on the Earth. Today I want to look at the other side of Jesus, the “God” side, as it were. It’s the side that John’s gospel emphasizes. Jesus is the Word-made-flesh, that is and was God from the beginning of time, through whom all of creation was made. Jesus is the light that shines in the darkness that gives light to all men. He is full of grace and truth, whose glory is the same as God the Father.
This image of Jesus is quite a bit different that the baby in a manger we’re presented with in Luke. For Luke, whose primary message is one of hope for the oppressed and downtrodden, the story of Jesus’ humble birth and his family’s poverty serves to build the connection between Jesus and those who hear his gospel. But for John, whose intent is for people will believe in Jesus through showing his divinity, a much different introduction is needed.
We hear similar things about Jesus in the book of Hebrews. He is the heir of all things and co-creator of the universe. He is the exact radiance of God’s glory, and the exact representation of his being, who sustains all things by his word. After being the means for our forgiveness, he sat down at the right hand of the Father. Talk about a big deal!
It’s quite a different picture from Jesus the baby, but we too often forget around this time of year he is also Jesus, the Son of God. I wonder if we like to keep Jesus as a “safe” little baby sometimes. I’m reminded of the scene in the film Talladega Nights, in which the main character, along with his friends and family, are praying around the dinner table. When he begins to pray, he prays to “Lord Baby Jesus”. His wife, somewhat bothered by the prayer, reminds him that Jesus did grow up, and that it’s a little odd to pray to a baby. The main character responds quite brusquely, basically saying that he likes Baby Jesus best and she can pray to grownup Jesus, teenage Jesus, or bearded Jesus when she prays for the food.
As sacrilegious as Talladega Nights is, there is some truth in this prayer. Our private little worlds are not nearly as threatened by the baby Jesus as they are by an image of Jesus as co-creator of the universe and the exact representation of God’s being. Like all babies, I’d imagine that baby Jesus would have required a lot of care, and in a way we feel that we can control him. Well, as much as you can control a baby — even I know that babies always run the show when they’re around. But you get my meaning. Baby Jesus is harmless and makes us feel good; Jesus sitting at the right hand of God makes us a little nervous.
It’s not something we always like to admit to ourselves though — we like to act as though we’re OK with submitting to God — but let’s be honest, we’re not. Because of our sinfulness we are constantly rebelling against God. Remember what happened back in Genesis 3: it wasn’t about the knowledge, or even about a good looking fruit, it was the serpent casting doubt on God’s goodness and love for us. The humans took it to the next step of actively disobeying God. And so we find ourselves questioning God’s goodness.
So this Christmas, I invite you to look not just at Jesus, the baby, but at Jesus the Word-made-flesh, the Son of God dwelling among us. He calls us to follow him, not out of duty, but out of thanksgiving for everything he has already given us — gifts so grand that nothing can ever match them.