Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
The text this evening is from the Gospel according to John, the first chapter:
…and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.Thus far the text.
My dear friends in Christ,
If you really take the time to hear these words, we have seen His glory, these words will change your life. Imagine, if you will, the first time you saw the Grand Canyon, or the first time you saw your baby smile, or the first time you noticed a sunrise, or the first time you saw a wild creature you never had before, or the first time you saw the new puppy your parents brought home.
Our sight is so incredible. It lets us experience so much. It lets us see the amazing wonders of God’s creation and try to make sense out of it all. But, what if you were blind? What if you never knew the colors of a sunrise? What if you never knew where the dimples were on your daughter’s face? What if you never knew how many colors God could put in a field of flowers and never have them clash with one another?
I am fairly certain that none of us really understands what it is to see until we have our sight taken away. Whether it’s through our eyes degenerating, whether its because of a surgery, whether its because we knock ourselves out on the playground, whether its just because all the power goes out, the darkness is frightening. Sure, we have other sense we can use. We can hear, we can taste, we can smell, we can feel. But, when our sight is taken away, it’s disorienting.
On Christmas Eve, we are invited to finally see again. We are invited to shake off the blinders that have been put over us that we might see Jesus, the Lord of All Creation, born of a virgin, laid in a manger. We are invited to see the glory of God and its laying in swaddling cloths in the place where the sheep and the oxen feed.
We who are in the church most often, I think, can be easily blinded to this glory. We’re so used to hearing the story of Christ over and over and over again that it becomes for us some kind of bedtime story. But, the reality is that the birth and life and death and resurrection of Christ is not just some story, it is THE story. It’s the only story that matters.
This Christmas, we need to find a way for us to look at the story with the amazement of children seeing their presents on Christmas morning. We need to see our Lord born in our flesh, taking on our sin, dying our death, being resurrected for our life, and marvel. We need to be like Mary, who, when seeing all the wonderful things happening around her son, and even hearing the blessings He would bring and the pain she herself would endure, treasured these things in her heart. We need to be those who see with eyes of faith, that we might find ourselves in the story, not as shepherds or kings, but as those He came to save.
We need to see Jesus. It’s hard, isn’t it, to think about this. We can’t go back in time to when He was born. Jesus doesn’t visit us bodily when we gather. He has ascended into heaven and is ruling all things, awaiting the day of His return. We, with our physical eyes, can’t see Jesus right unless we die or He returns. Yet, by faith, our Lord has given us eyes to see Him in His Word, in His Sacraments. He gives us the eyes of faith to see that where two or more are gathered in His name, there He is. He gives us eyes of faith to see that we are invited into His story, His redemption, His resurrection. We can stand there with Mary and Joseph, we can be as stand there with the disciples when Christ is transfigured, we can watch His crucifixion, we can see the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.
This isn’t done because we push ourselves to imagine these things; this happens because our Lord is giving us the very words of those who were these, who watched them, who stood by, who wrote them down for you. We see by faith through those who saw. We see, we understand, we believe.
And what’s the point of it all? It’s to see His glory. We think of glory as that which is God’s, honor and blessing and power and might. We think of His miracles. We think of Him walking on water, healing the sick, feeding the 5,000, raising the dead. We think of this all as glory, and perhaps it is. But our Lord tells us that His hour of glorification is none of these things: it is when He is lifted up above the world, not in brightness or victory, but in what seems like defeat. His glory comes to Him when He is lifted upon the cross, broken, beaten, naked, crucified. This is His glory, His bitter suffering and death.
This little child, whose birth we celebrate this night, was born for one reason: to die. His little hands that grasped His mother’s fingers would be nailed through. His kissable little belly would have a spear shoved through it. His perfect round head would be ringed with drops of blood from the scraping of the thorny crown. His back, which He would lay on and coo at His mother’s and father’s faces, would be whipped open. The baby Jesus came to die.
And this is what we have eyes of faith to see. This is glorious, not in that a baby would die, but in that this is all for you. This is all to win for you the forgiveness of your sins and the entry to everlasting life. This is all for you. And you are invited to see, you’re invited to see the One who created life die. You’re invited to see the one born for you, die for you. And you’re invited to see the one from whom all gifts are given raise from the dead that you might live forever where He is.
The glory of Christ on the cross is the glory of His incarnation, His taking on flesh at His birth. And we see this glory yet today, as through that cross the Lord loves you, forgives you, and comes to you where you are, especially when you gather in this place. And when finally you see this, when you realize just how marvelous this act of His coming is, it will change your life. It’s more beautiful than the Grand Canyon, better than your baby smiling at you, more vibrant than a sunrise, more wild than the beasts, and better than any pet who is brought home, for our Lord dwells with us, dwells with you, always and forever. He is in the flesh; come and see. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Now may the peace of God which passes all human understanding guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord! Amen.
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