Glory to God

Day Twenty Five                   

Glory to God                          

Luke 2:4-20

So soon it is over. The gifts are over and, probably, laid aside. The wrapping paper, so carefully folded and neatly secured with ribbons and bows, lies strewn across the floor. Only the dog pays any attention to it. The great, celebratory meal has been prepared and cooked at length; it has adorned the festive table, but now it is gone. The kitchen looks like a war zone. It will have to wait until we all have caught our breath. It’s time to sit down, to share good company, and to reflect.

Has it been a good year for you? Have there been changes that you eagerly anticipated and towards which you labored? Has another chapter begun at school or at work? Has your family expanded, or has it contracted? Has death or divorce or some other kind of separation cast a shadow over your year? Is there an empty place at the table? Has Christmas become, for you, a time to look back wistfully, not a time to look forward hopefully? What does our faith have to say after the dinner is done, as we sit back and reflect?

I hope that you will reflect upon the reason for the celebration. Christmas is about as far from a secular holiday as it is possible to be. No matter what people tell you, it’s not “all about the family.” Or, rather, it’s all about His family. We become members of God’s family by faith; not our faith, but His. It is Christ’s faithfulness that overcomes our faithlessness. His sacrifice enables us to be adopted into the family and household of God. And that, certainly, is reason for celebration.

There is rich glory in these days, and it is all His. “We have seen His glory” says John. Personally, we haven’t yet set eyes upon Him, unlike those who walked the hills of Galilee and the streets of Jerusalem, two thousand years ago. Of those who did, of course, some did not behold His glory. Herod ignored it. Caiaphas denied it. And, if he caught sight of it, Pontius Pilate quickly turned his face away. But John saw His glory, and what he knew, he wrote.

Christ’s was the glory of the only begotten Son of the Father. It was the glory of God, nothing less. There, surrounded by shepherds kneeling, a frightened Joseph and an exhausted Mary, watched over by a star and a hundred thousand angels, glory came down. In Christ that glory shone with an unparalleled blaze. Nothing could extinguish it, not even a Cross. There’s good reason for that – Christ’s glory is the Cross. His glory is that He gave Himself for us, in confirmation of the Father’s deep, deep love. His glory shines most brightly in whatever expresses divine love. There is glory in His birth, since it shows that He loved us enough to come and dwell among us; and there is glory in His death, because the Cross of shame is the throne of glory.

Celebrate the love that brought the Baby to Bethlehem. Don’t put it away with the decorations or leave it by the roadside like a discarded tree. In Christ the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us. Let that be your glory and your joy.

May the joy of the angels, the wonder of the shepherds, and the peace of the Christ Child, fill your hearts this Christmas; and may the blessing of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, be with you now and always. Amen.

Made Him Known

Day Twenty Four                   

Made Him Known                 

John 1:15-18

Let’s say that you have a piece of information. It doesn’t really matter how it came into your possession. Perhaps you just happened to be in a certain place at a certain time and you saw something. You were just getting out of your car when you saw an envelope being exchanged between a known criminal and a respected official. Or, you were helping out at an election when you saw something that made you pay attention. It need not have been a bad thing. Maybe you saw a situation that could have turned ugly that was redeemed by a selfless act. Whatever it was, you saw something; you now possess important information. You must decide what you are going to do with it.

John tells us that we have seen something absolutely priceless in Jesus. We have been given insight into the nature of God. It wasn’t something that we saw by accident, either. God deliberately revealed His glory to us in the person of His Son. When the Word became flesh and we “beheld” His glory, we came into information that changed us. Now, we must decide what we are going to do with it.

In verses 17-18, John explains, further, that though the Law had been given through Moses, grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. He goes on to say that the unseen God has finally been revealed in God’s only Son, that God has “made Him known.” The word he uses is well known to every serious student of the Bible. “Exegesis” means the method by which the text is amplified and explained. Every good Bible study involves exegesis. The teacher “opens” the Word in such a way as to make it relevant and intelligible. As we study the Bible, through exegesis its truths are “made known.”

John says that Jesus came in order to make the Father known. Jesus is the exegesis of the Father; He is the exposition of the hidden truth about God. As we read about Jesus, our eyes are opened to the mysteries that once evaded us. As we look at Him, we see the nature and name of God. This should not surprise us. Jesus is the only Son of God; He has been at the Father’s side from the beginning; He has unique authority to reveal the Father. We have seen His glory.

Now, just as Christ, the Word, made known His Father’s heart, we have the responsibility to make Him known. We have seen something. We cannot “unsee” what has been revealed to us. We have a responsibility. We must share what we have seen. We cannot keep it to ourselves. This was not a private revelation intended for us alone. If the Child in the manger is who He claims to be, we dare not stay silent.

Lord God, You have opened my eyes. I’m dazzled by the light, but I’m grateful for it. I am no longer blind; at last I can see. But, having seen, I know that I must speak. Open my lips, just as You have opened my eyes. May I live to speak Your praise and to bear faithful witness to Your Son. For His name’s sake. Amen.

Truth and Grace

Day Twenty Three                

Truth and Grace              

Titus 2:1-14

Perhaps we should not make too much of the order of the words, but it remains the case that John did not write “The Word became flesh… we have seen His glory… who came from the Father, full of truth and grace.” As we have seen, John puts grace first. Have you ever wondered why?

To put truth second is not to diminish its importance. Christianity is all about truth. We don’t say, “Christ is Truth” as often as we name Him “the Resurrection and the Life” or “the True Vine.” Yet, it is certainly appropriate for us to call Him the truth. Jesus is, after all, “the Way, the Truth, and the Life” (John 14:6). But we don’t tend to do this very often. Others do so. Many of the cults emphasize their version of the truth before all else. Some eastern philosophies and religions also elevate truth as the primary characteristic of God. Christians do not. We are far more likely to speak of God in other ways. There’s a good reason for this. For Christians, the primary characteristic of God is not truth, it is love.

When you build your understanding of the nature of God on the primacy of truth, what you are really doing is constructing a philosophy. Certain truth claims undergird your worldview. The way you look at the world depends upon the foundational truths you affirm. Your actions grow out of your beliefs about the nature of the universe. Truth dominates. But Christianity is not really a philosophy, in the sense that it is not constructed upon core truths. Christianity is not, when it comes down to it, a philosophical system, it is a relational system. The core of Christianity is our relationship with God through Jesus Christ. And the heart of that relationship is love. To say that God so loved the world that He sent His only begotten Son, so that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life, is not to construct a philosophical premise, it is to name an act. God didn’t “so love the world” that He persuaded us about creation, or about a theory of the atonement. He “so loved the world” that He sent His Son. The defining feature of our faith is an act of love whereby God invaded history. It is grace in action.

Of course, to say that God loves us is, itself, a truth claim. As Christians, we must be eager, always, to stand up for what we believe to be true. But we should do so with grace. When the Word made flesh broke into our world we beheld His glory, the glory of the One and Only, “full of grace and truth.”

Lord God, I am grateful for Your grace. When truth alone would have condemned me, grace came and stood beside me and took my place. Help me, whenever I am ardent for the truth, never to lose the flavor of grace. In the name of Christ. Amen.

Grace and Truth

Day Twenty Two                   

Grace and Truth           

II Corinthians 12:1-10

It’s interesting that, in his description of the coming of Christ, the Word made flesh, John puts grace before truth. “We have seen His glory,” he writes, “the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” This reminds us that grace comes first. It is God’s action in pursuing us that precedes our response. His amazing grace provides the first step toward us. We are not drawn by the concept of God, or by some commitment to natural justice; we respond in faith to the winsome, winning love that we encounter in Jesus Christ. Grace comes first.

Theologians, as is their way, disagree about this. They tell us that we should not elevate any of the attributes of God above another, since they are all important. They are probably right; we don’t need to argue about whether Jesus is the Good Shepherd before He is the Light of the world, He is simply both. Nevertheless, it does seem at least appropriate that, in John’s description, grace comes before truth. The first and highest attribute of God, as Christians understand Him, is love. Grace is love in action. The old carol has it right – “Love came down at Christmas.”

Grace has many technical definitions. George Stroup called it “the thread running through the whole fabric of Christian theology.” Thomas Goodwin called it “the freeness of love.” For Calvin, grace was the means by which sinners are reconciled to God through Christ’s blameless life and His sacrificial death, so that “we may have in heaven instead of a Judge a gracious Father.” An easier definition is a simple acrostic. Grace is: God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense. We receive forgiveness through grace, the unmerited favor of God, who pours His love upon us as a result of the finished work of Christ. So, grace is God’s favor given to us when we had nothing to commend ourselves to Him. It is God’s love for the unlovely. It is God’s acceptance, given to us when we were far from acceptable. It is God’s redemption, given to the irredeemable.

John Wallace used to say that, although the favorite word of angels might be love, the favorite word of sinners is grace. Love reaches out on the same level, he explained, but “grace is a word with a stoop in it.” In Christ, God stoops low in order to lift us up. How glorious! And, we have seen that glory, full of grace and truth.

Lord Jesus, You came to me when I had nothing to commend me to anyone, and You raised me up. Out of the mire of sin, You lifted me to the heights of Your glory. Thank You for the grace that reaches out to me, for the grace that sustains me, and for the grace that will bring me back to my Father’s heart. Amen.

Full of Grace and Truth

Day Twenty One          

Full of Grace and Truth         

II Corinthians 5:11-21

What does John mean when he tells us that Jesus, the Word made flesh, was “full of grace and truth”? Let’s think about what it means to be “filled” in this way. We sometimes describe optimists as “half-full” people, whereas pessimists are called “half-empty.” We imagine a half-filled glass of water and then judge people on the basis of how they interpret what they see. Of course, most of us are neither total optimists nor utter pessimists. Generally, we’re a bit of both. Depending upon our circumstances we often see things differently. In other regards, too, we tend to be a mixture of darkness and light. Nine times out of ten we can respond calmly to the situations we encounter; but on the tenth occasion we can erupt with frustration and anger. We are a mixture of good and evil. The struggle between our old nature and our new creation in Christ continues throughout our lives. One day, sin may appear to be in the ascendency; the next day we may celebrate a victory of grace. We are not really “full of grace and truth.” Both grace and the ugliness of sin reside within us. Truth and error are often to be found in equal measure. But in Jesus Christ the fullness of grace was found. In Him was no trace of error. In Him there is grace and only grace; in Him there is truth and only truth.

One of the greatest stains on Christian witness is inconsistency. At its worst we call it hypocrisy. To be a hypocrite is to knowingly do the opposite of what you know you ought to do, and what you say you will do. It is to affirm a certain set of beliefs and values, and to act in violation of the principles you espouse. Contrary to what the world will tell you, outright hypocrisy is relatively rare in Christian circles. Nevertheless, we all act inconsistently. Sometimes our failures are intentional, but more often they are merely incidental. We did not really intend to break the moral code, yet we did. Our inattention caused us to revert to the habits of our life before Christ. We did not mean to sin, but in a moment the act was done, the lie was told, the promise was broken. Goodness gave way to evil; grace was, momentarily, overcome.

Grace was never overcome in Jesus. In Him, principle and practice met. He was filled with grace, there was no room for sin; in Him truth overflowed, error was banished. Unlike us, Jesus was not a battleground for opposites. That’s why we can trust Him absolutely. Unqualified grace and unadulterated truth met in a manger, in Bethlehem.

Father God, come and dwell in me, by Your Holy Spirit, until my dreams and deeds are one. I know that I shall not be perfect until I see my Savior face to face, yet this I ask: in the struggles I shall face today, may I be filled, more and more, with Christ. In His name, I pray. Amen.

From 'He' to 'We'

Day Twenty                           

From ‘He’ to ‘We’                  

Acts 2:29-32

A subtle change happens in verse 14 of John chapter one. For the first time, the author steps into the story. He stops describing events in the third person, as a dispassionate observer. In verse 14, John moves from “He” to “we.” For the first time, John shows us his hand. He cannot continue to write about the coming of Christ as though he was not personally involved. John is no longer a reporter, trying to be evenhanded in describing events; it is no longer possible. Having walked with Jesus for so many years; having witnessed so much of His ministry, having endured His agony, and having experienced the ecstasy of resurrection, John knows that he must bear his own testimony. He tells us what he saw – “we have seen His glory.”

There comes a time, for all of us, when it is no longer possible for us to view Christianity from the outside. Many people begin by treating Jesus Christ like any other man. We listen to the stories of His life and we put together a biography that, we think, will enable us to understand Him. But it doesn’t work. Jesus doesn’t fit into our neat, prearranged pigeon holes. He blasts through them. He demands that we make our minds up. He’s not like Alexander the Great or Napoleon Bonaparte. We may treat the source materials in the same way, but we soon realize that, if even a tenth of what we read is true, then Jesus does not belong in the same category as any man. His claims are greater; His actions are without parallel. Napoleon’s exploits led to the death of thousands, but he did not raise a single person to life. There is no Lazarus in his biography. Alexander conquered vast tracts of land. His empire covered half the known world, but with his death it evaporated. Jesus, on the other hand, never commanded an army. He had little more than the clothes upon His back when He was led away to die, crucified between thieves. But, today, millions call Him “Lord.” No army marches with His banner, but He is loved by believers in almost every land. How do you write a biography about someone like that? Do you discount the miracles as make-believe, just because no one else has made the lame leap for joy like Jesus? Do you refuse to accept the resurrection, because “things like that don’t happen”? Do you reject the virgin birth as an old wives’ tale, meant only for children?

At some point, you have to ask yourself, “If even one tenth of what I read is true, how can I not put myself in the equation? How can I claim to be dispassionate when what I see and hear rocks me back upon my heels?” That’s when the story has to move from being about “what Christians believe” to “what I believe.” That’s when you finally understand that the Word did not become flesh to satisfy an abstract principle of Law; He came for you.

Lord Christ, forgive me for the times when I have judged You, when I have attempted to read the story of Your coming as though it had nothing to do with me. Teach me to see myself in Your motivation, and to believe that, in Bethlehem, You were born so that I might step into Your story, and be saved. Amen.

The Only One

Day Nineteen                  

The Only One                     

Colossians 1:15-23

“The problem with you Christians,” we hear, repeatedly, “is that you have taken a remarkable man, and you have made him out to be more than he ever claimed for himself. Jesus of Nazareth was a wonderfully gifted teacher, but you have made him into the divine Christ.” The complaint is far from new. For centuries, critics have argued that Paul took the simple message of Jesus, that we should love one another, and made it into a complicated theological conundrum called the Trinity. If only, they say, we would return to Jesus, we would stop being so judgmental. We would recognize the supremacy of love over all things, and we would see the spark of the divine in all people and every religion. It is Christianity that has ruined the message of Jesus.

The problem with this is that it is impossible to drive a wedge between Jesus and Christ. As C.S. Lewis pointed out many years ago, if Jesus did not claim to be divine, then His words make no more sense than a man who claims to be a fried egg. Jesus is either “cracked,” in that He is not in possession of His faculties; or, He is a criminal, in that He seeks to deceive us; or, He is Christ, and His claims are correct. It simply will not do to call Jesus a wonderful teacher without taking seriously the claims He made.

Christians have long understood the central claim of the New Testament to be that Jesus of Nazareth was and is God. Uniquely, among the claimants to the throne of the Messiah, Jesus did not stop at prophecy. He was so much more than a uniquely gifted human being. In Bethlehem, God came down to us, in the person of the Son. This is heresy to the Jews; it is nonsense to the Greeks; but it is what we believe. Jesus was “true God of true God, Light of Light eternal,” begotten, not created.

The first chapter of John’s Gospel assumes the divinity of Christ. By identifying the Word with the child born to Mary, Jesus ascribes divine status to Jesus. This can also be seen in the unusual phrase found in John 1:18. “No one has ever seen God,” writes John, “but God the One and Only, who is at the Father’s side, has made Him known.” There can be no doubt that, as in verse 14, John is using very precise language to identify Jesus, the “One and Only,” as God, the One who makes the Father known. We do not need to understand this fully in order to accept it. Here, as in so many other places, faith precedes understanding, and leads to praise.

Lord Christ, I praise You. In ways too deep for words, You have opened my eyes to the Father’s glory. Now, seeing You, I am able to respond in adoration and praise to the God who made me and sustains me day by day. I kneel in wonder beside the manger and bring You the offering of my heart. Amen.

The One and Only

Day Eighteen                         

The One and Only                 

Mark 1:1-11

We have grown tired of superlatives. The latest and greatest of any sport, or in popular music, is feted as the best, the most wonderful, the greatest of all time. It is either ignorance or arrogance that causes us to elevate those we admire. Either, we really have never seen anyone throw a football like the latest exponent of the trade, thereby justifying a salary larger than most of us can imagine; or, we choose to believe that our generation has been blessed in ways that previous generations were not. No matter how our parents and grandparents revered Joe Namath or Ted Williams, our chronological superiority makes us doubt that such heroes can rival ours. In the same way, we corrupt simple mathematics to claim that our favorite ball player always gives 110%, forcing those who disagree with us to claim ever-higher impossibilities for those that they favor. Eventually, it leaves us all a little jaded. We have seen too many teenage superstars flare brightly, only to plummet to earth and to obscurity. We have witnessed too many careers cut short by stupidity. The world is full of “nearly men.” Most of our heroes prove to have feet of clay.

So, what are we to make of John’s phrase, when he describes Jesus, the eternal Word, as “the One and Only”? Is this just another attempt to mark a man as unique and special? Is this John’s attempt to claim a slice of immortality for himself, having seen and known and walked with God’s One and Only? Hardly! The claim belongs to Jesus, not to those who follow Him. It is more than a metaphor. John is not trying to say that, as far as saviors go, Jesus is the best. There is, in fact, no hint of comparison in his words. Jesus cannot be compared to any rival, since no such person exists. He is unique. Jesus is the only One to have received His Father’s glory. John enables us to see, albeit fleetingly and partially, into the heart of the divine. There, Jesus is without rival. He is the Father’s One and Only Son. No one can be compared to Him. The glory of the Father is His.

There are echoes of Jesus’ baptism in these words. When He emerged from the Jordan, having been immersed, somewhat unwillingly, by His cousin John the Baptist, a voice came from heaven identifying Jesus as the Father’s beloved Son (Mark 1:11). That is exactly what He is. He is more than a hero. He is the One and Only.

Lord Jesus, You are not one among many. No one compares to You. Yours is the Father’s glory, since You are the only Son. As such, I worship You. Forgive my partial praise. May my “hallelujahs” ring out for You and You alone. Amen.

The Glory of the Cross

Day Seventeen

The Glory of the Cross             

Colossians 2:9-15

There is one, final, aspect of the glory that, John says, “we have seen”; it is the greatest. For those who witnessed the life and ministry of the carpenter-rabbi from Galilee, the glory they saw was in the way He reflected the nature of the Father. They saw it in both His holiness and His humility. Most of all, they saw it in the Cross.

Writing, in old age, upon the island prison of Patmos, John, the beloved apostle, looked back across the years to the coming of Christ. The story still moved him. He remembered the strange, charismatic young leader who called him from Gennesaret. He remembered the miracles and the stories – the healing of a man born blind, the feeding of the five thousand in the hills above the lake. He remembered the astonishing claims: “I am the Resurrection and the Life,” “I am the Good Shepherd,” “I am the Door of the Sheepfold, whoever enters through me will be saved.” But, more than anything else, as John looked back upon the One he called Lord, he remembered the Cross. He remembered the glory of the Cross.

To Jesus’ contemporaries the Cross was anything but glorious. In fact, it was an object of shame. No Roman citizen could be put to death upon a cross, no matter how heinous the crime. It was the means of execution reserved for the lowest of the low. Defeated enemies of Rome might sometimes be crucified; those who rebelled against the Empire could expect no better fate. More often than not, it was the common criminal who would die, arms outstretched, as a punishment and a deterrent. It was recognized as the most painful method of execution. The suffocating weight of the body upon the lungs, the struggle to breathe, the heat, the flies, and the excruciating, seemingly unending pain – all of these made the Cross the most feared symbol of imperial might. Better to die honorably, by the sword, if you must, than to suffer the shame of the Cross.

Yet, as John looked back, it was not the shame of the Cross that he remembered, but its glory. “The hour has come,” Jesus had said, “for the Son of Man to be glorified” (John 12:23). That glory had not been found at the head of a military parade, not in the force of arms nor in the glint of sharpened steel. The glory of the Cross was in this: that the eternal Word had taken human flesh and suffered there for us. At the Cross, Christ satisfied God’s wrath against a rebellious people. He bore the shame. He paid the price. That is glory.

Precious Savior, giving of Yourself for my salvation, stooping low in order to raise me up, Yours is the power, and the dominion, and the authority, and the glory forever. Amen.

Yet, in Humility

Day Sixteen                           

Yet, in Humility                     

Isaiah 53:3-5

We have seen that an orthodox Jew, hearing John describe the glory of God, would have thought automatically about the holiness and righteousness of God. God’s glory made Him unapproachable. He was to be feared, or at least revered. But John went on to say that he, and those with him, “had seen His glory.” What had they seen, if not the cloud that hid God from their sight?

They had seen Jesus of Nazareth, a carpenter’s son. They had met Him by the lakeside as they mended their nets, and they had responded to His command, “Follow me!” They saw Him walking through the fields, picking ears of corn, teaching as He went. They saw Him in the synagogue and at a wedding at Cana in Galilee. They saw Him being attacked by those who wanted to harm Him, and being misunderstood by those whose eyes were still shaded from the light. They saw Him breaking bread in an upper room, healing a child, and sitting among outcasts. They saw Him suffering under the power of Roman law, carrying a cross, wearing a crown of thorns, bleeding and dying. And then they saw Him in a garden, by an empty tomb, coming to them in a locked room, eating fish by the lake at which they had met Him. They saw Jesus. For them, the glory of the Lord was revealed not in the rending of the heavens, but in the coming of the Christ.

Years earlier, the prophet Isaiah, in a vision that must have confused and terrified those who heard it, described the coming Son of Man as one who would be “despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. And we hid, as it were, our faces from Him; He was despised, and we did not esteem Him” (Isaiah 53:3 – NKJV). Over time, as Christians searched the Scriptures, they saw how Isaiah’s “suffering servant” fitted the life and ministry, and especially the death of Jesus. It meant a radical re-evaluation of glory.

In New Testament terms, glory is as much about humility as it is about holiness. This makes the story even more wonderful. Jesus laid aside the glories of heaven, to which He was entitled, and humbled Himself, taking the form of a servant. For us, then, the glory of Christ is not that He possessed supernatural power, but that He chose not to use it. He did not come on a war horse, trampling His enemies beneath His feet. He came, borne by a peasant mother, on a donkey’s back. The One we worship is our servant-King. He laid aside His majesty, suffered and served. This is the glory, says John, “that we have seen.”

Lord Jesus, may I see Your glory, too. Help me to lay aside my pretension and my pride. Not in arrogance or in power, but in lowliness and vulnerability, let me follow in Your path and share Your glory. For Your love’s sake. Amen.

In Awe of God's Glory

Day Fifteen                  

In Awe of God’s Glory          

Hebrews 9:1-14

An orthodox, first-century Jew, hearing John’s description of the coming of the Word and of His glory, could not have failed to have been reminded of Solomon’s Temple, and of Herod’s reconstruction. Classically, the Temple was made up of a series of courts. Each court was named for the group of people who could enter it, but go no further. The outer court was reserved for the Gentiles, that is, for those who were not Jews by birth. Anyone who wished to worship the God of Israel could enter this court, but on pain of death they could not go further. The next court was the “Court of the Women.” It marked the nearest area that any devout Israelite woman could come to the shrine. Beyond it lay the “Court of Israel,” which represented the limit for Israelite men. During the great festivals of the Jewish year, those men, of Jewish birth, who were ceremonially clean, could enter the Temple as far as the Court of Israel. Priests could take the next step. They could enter into the holy place, drawing near to the innermost, most sacred center of the Temple, but they could not enter. On one day, and one day only, the High Priest could enter into the “Holy of Holies” (Hebrews 9:3). On the Day of Atonement, after the offering of suitable sacrifices, the High Priest passed beyond the great, ceremonial veil, carrying a censer and incense. There, he would put incense on a fire and great plumes of smoke would arise, concealing the holiness of God and protecting the High Priest from death, since to see God was to die. All of this would have been understood by John’s Jewish readers, when he wrote about the glory of the Lord.

How shocking it must have been for the! How could God’s glory be manifested in a man, still less in a child? Even those who had responded to the Gospel, and had accepted Jesus as the long-awaited Messiah, must have struggled to accept that the glory that had been hidden from human eyes for so long had been revealed in Jesus. That they did accept it shows, not that they had a diminished understanding of glory, but that they had an elevated view of Christ.

This is something we need to rediscover. We have made Jesus so like us that He is commonplace. We have sanitized His holiness to such a degree that we feel able to disregard Him. We have forgotten what it is to stand in awe before Him. Yet, says John, the Savior whom we worship at our convenience is actually the King of glory. One day, before Him, every knee shall bow.

God of glory and of grace, I praise You. In Christ, You overcame the power of sin and death. Yours is the victory I celebrate every resurrection day, for Yours is the dominion, and the power, and the glory forever; through Christ my Lord. Amen.

Glory

Day Fourteen                         

Glory                             

John 17:1-5

What is the “glory” to which John bears witness? Speaking of the Word who came and made His dwelling among us, the apostle writes, “We have seen His glory.”

Some commentators, reading this text, have come to the conclusion that John is referring to what happened on the Mount of Transfiguration (Matthew 17:1-8). We are told that Jesus went, with Peter, James, and John, to climb a high mountain. As they ascended Jesus was transfigured, or changed, before their eyes. His face shone like the sun and His clothes became as white as the light. When they reached the mountain top, the disciples were astonished to see the great leaders of Israel, Moses and Elijah, who had come to meet Jesus. Peter, in particular, was reduced to a wreck by what he witnessed. In Jesus, the glory of the Lord was revealed; as they watched Him, they knew that they were in the presence of God. In Moses and Elijah, the Law and the Prophets acknowledged Christ.

The problem with this interpretation is that, for whatever reason, John omits any mention of the story of the Transfiguration in his Gospel. This is strange for two reasons: first, because he was there, on the mountain top; and, second, because of all the Gospel-writers, John is the one who likes to write about glory. He uses the noun “glory” eighteen times, which is more than the other Gospels. He also uses the verb “to glorify” twenty three times, whereas no other Gospel-writer uses it on more than nine occasions. One might have expected John to have made this connection; but he does not. Could it be that he did not want his readers to limit their understanding of the manifestation of glory in Christ to only one occasion, no matter how dramatic?

There can be little doubt that John was well aware of what the Old Testament writers called “shekinah” glory. When the glory of the Lord settled upon Mount Sinai (Exodus 24:16-17) it appeared as a bright cloud, covering the mountain for six days. The Israelites described it as a consuming fire. They came to understand the cloud as a manifestation of the presence of the Lord, come to dwell among His people. It filled them with both wonder and fear. When the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle (Exodus 40:34-35) the cloud was so dense that Moses could not enter.

This was the glory that came down in Christ. Just as the glory of the Lord had been seen during Israel’s wanderings in the wilderness and, later, in Solomon’s Temple, now, says John, it has come in the person of Jesus. Glory no longer dwells in a cloud but in flesh, in Jesus.

Lord Christ, I adore You, for in You I see the fullness of the Father’s glory. In awe and wonder, and in eager expectation, I draw near. Touch my heart, Lord. May the light of Your glory break into the dark corners of my life, until my face shines too. For Your love’s sake. Amen.

We Have Seen

Day Thirteen                          

We Have Seen                       

Job 42:1-5

John tells us that “we have seen His glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” Our word “seen” does not really convey the meaning of the Greek. The King James Version uses “beheld His glory,” which, though anachronistic nowadays, at least makes more of the verb. If we are in Christ, we have done more than seen His glory.

We see thousands of things every day. We see the light streaming through the bedroom blinds as we awake; we see the steam rising from the first and best cup of the day; we see the faces of our loved ones, the home we share, the road that leads us to the responsibilities we face, and so on. We see so much. In the same way, we see the traffic light changing and the vehicle emerging into our path. Time seems to slow as we await impact. It is said that, in that moment, we see our life flashing before our eyes. We see every detail of the catastrophe that is about to happen. Then, after the darkness, we see the bright lights and unfamiliar faces of the emergency department. And we look, desperately, for the faces of those we love the best.

It is this last sense of looking that most clearly resembles the word John uses in 1:14. This must have been a very personal testimony for the apostle. Did the face of Jesus come to him as he wrote these words? Did he remember the fresh-faced carpenter who found him by Galilee? Did he recall the earnest rabbi who taught them as they followed Him for three wonderful years? Or did he picture the blood-soaked brow, the pain-wracked Savior who laid down His life for those who had turned and run away? We can’t really know, but what we can say is that John did more than glance, dispassionately, at Jesus. The word he uses shows us that he looked, deliberately and long, at the object of his hope; and he did not find Him lacking. John “beheld” His glory.

George Herbert, in an old hymn, gives us exactly the right image. “The man that looks on glass,” he writes, “on it may stay his eye, or, if he wishes through it pass and there the heavens espy.” The same is true of Jesus. We can look at Him, superficially, not thinking about the implications of His claims; or, we can really look at Him, reflecting upon what we see, studying and considering His words and His deeds. When we do this, the eye of faith sees beyond the surface to the substance, and is lost in wonder, love, and praise.

Lord Christ, may I see You with the eyes of faith. May I do so much more than see the surface; may I see beneath the appearance of things to the reality of Your selfless love. And, having seen, may I praise You forever. Amen.

Implications

Day Twelve                            

Implications                           

Romans 8:1-4

According to Bruce Milne, a well-known Bible teacher from Canada, there are four implications to be drawn from the incarnation of Christ.

First, Christ’s coming speaks directly to our need of salvation. After all, that is why He came. One of the fundamental claims of Christianity is that we cannot save ourselves. Our alienation from God is too great. His holiness cannot tolerate our sin. Our fallenness cannot look upon His righteousness. We are like oil and water. There is no way for a holy God to overcome the separation caused by human rebellion. Or, rather, there would be no way, without a sinless sacrifice to satisfy the Law’s demands and to pay the price on our behalf. Christ’s coming, born to a virgin in the City of David, does not save us; but it does set the stage for our salvation. Without Bethlehem there could be no Calvary. Our redemption was possible only because He came. When Christ became one of us, being clothed in human flesh, He opened up the way of our salvation.

Second, Christ’s coming affirms our significance. If God had not loved us, He would not have gone to the trouble of sending His Son to be an atoning sacrifice for our sin. If we had been nothing to God, our eternal condemnation would not have concerned Him at all. But God did love us, and He does love us, and He has promised to keep on loving us until His children have all come home. This is good news indeed. In our day, it is commonplace to regard human beings as just another type of animal. We are taught that chance has enabled us to live, and that chance could just as easily wipe us from the face of the earth. That cannot be so. We have significance because God affirms us. Our lives have value because we were bought at a great price.

Third, Christ’s coming shows how God identifies with us in our human life. No other religion can say this. For us, Jesus Christ is God with flesh on. He understands us because He has experienced human life, with all its frailties and failings, even though He was without sin. Our struggle is His. We do not have a God who judges us without knowing us; we have a Savior who has shared our sorrows.

Finally, Christ’s coming drives us to our knees in adoration. The shepherds got it right. They knelt before the majesty and mystery of His coming. And so must we. If you make time for nothing else this Christmas, make time for worship. Join with fellow believers as we sing, “O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord.”

Mighty God, yet Child in a manger, I worship You. Before the mystery of Your matchless love, what can I do except to bow down to acknowledge both my sin and Your salvation. At Your feet I humbly fall, there to crown You, Lord of all. Amen.