There is a reading by J. B. Phillips called The Visited Planet. It’s about a junior angel who is being given a tour of the universe by a senior angel. After touring all the galaxies of the universe, they come at last to our solar system. The junior angel is tired and bored and not very impressed by what he sees. The senior angel points to the earth and says, “Keep an eye on that planet.”
The younger angel thinks the earth looks small and dirty and insignificant.
“That is the Visited Planet,” say the senior angel.
“You don’t mean …” the junior angel begins to interject . . .
“Yes,” the senior angel replies, “that planet has been visited by our young Prince of Glory.”
“Do you mean to tell me that He stooped so low as to become one of those creeping, crawling creatures of that floating ball?” asks the junior angel incredulously.
“I do,” the senior angel replies, “and I don’t think He would like you to call them ‘creeping, crawling creatures’ in that tone of voice. For, strange as it may seem to us, He loves them. He went down to visit them to lift them up to become like Him.”
The junior angel has no reply. The very thought is beyond his comprehension. (1)
It’s beyond our comprehension as well. And yet we read in the prologue to John’s Gospel these incredible words, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
“There was a man sent from God whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.
“The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God--children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.
“The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”
What an incredible statement. “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us . . .” We have a word for it--incarnation. The Word took on human flesh. The very Word of God, born in a manger in Bethlehem, would grow into a man who would reveal in himself the very character of God. The very thought is beyond our comprehension.
The story is told of two missionaries who were held for ransom by bandits in the hills of Colombia. They were kept captive in a squalid hut. Kept under armed guard, they were forbidden to speak to one another. Yet on Christmas day, one missionary intently worked with pieces of hay that were there on the hard clay floor. When he had finished, he stepped back and showed the other missionary his finished product. In the dim light of the hut, the other missionary smiled broadly as there in the straw arranged on the floor was a single word “Immanuel.” Which means, of course, “God with us.” (2) What great good news that is. We are not alone. We do not live in a cold, impersonal universe. God has been and is among us. God understands our situation. We live on a God-visited planet.
I was reading recently about a stand-up comedian named Greg Dean. Early in his career, Dean made little money and consequently had no money to buy Christmas presents. So he came up with a unique idea. He developed a comedy routine, then went to the houses of his friends and relatives, where he gave the routine and made that his Christmas present to them. (3)
Don’t you think that Greg Dean’s friends treasured this gift more than anything he could have purchased for them? He came to them and gave of himself. And that is exactly what God did. He came to us and gave of Himself.
You and I have been through another hectic Christmas season. Now it’s time to stop for a few minutes on this Christmas day and reflect on the meaning of it all.
Dr. Pablo R. Diaz tells a story that captures what can happen to us during the Christmas season. Typical of last-minute Christmas shoppers, a mother was running furiously from store to store. Suddenly she became aware that the pudgy little hand of her three-year old son was no longer clutched in hers.
In a panic she retraced her steps and found him standing with his little nose pressed flatly against a frosty window. He was gazing at a manger scene.
Hearing his mother’s near hysterical call, he turned and shouted with innocent glee: “Look mommy! It’s Jesus--baby Jesus in the hay.”
With obvious indifference to his joy and wonder, she impatiently jerked him away saying, “We don’t have time for that!” (4)
On this day you and I have chosen to take time to rediscover the meaning of Jesus’ coming. We look beyond the shepherds and the stable and the angels and the magi and even Mary and Joseph, and focus, like that little boy on the baby Jesus. What does it mean that God has become one of us? What does it mean that the Word has become flesh?
John tells us a couple of things it means. First of all, it means that light has come into a world of darkness. He writes, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it . . .” We all know what it is to stumble in the dark, without benefit of light.
John Claypool tells about one of history’s most remarkable men, the German writer and statesman, Johann Wolfgang Goethe (Gur-tuh). According to Claypool, Goethe was the last of the so-called universal human beings. That is, he was one of the last of our western civilization to have gained the mastery of every academic discipline. In his long life, Goethe became renowned as a poet, as an artist, as a musician, as a playwright and as a historian. There was hardly a single facet of human knowledge of which he did not have a tremendous grasp. As he lay dying in 1832, the story is that he suddenly sat up, bolted upright in bed, and cried out with great poignancy, “Light, light, more light.” (5)
Isn’t that essentially the cry of us all? “Light, light, more light.” There is so little that any of us, including Goethe, really understand about life. Apart from Christ this is a dark world. Thank God that in this dark world a light shines. But it is not more knowledge that the world needs. It’s not tinsel or gifts or parties or even carols that mean Christmas. It is a person. A light shines in the darkness. The Word becomes flesh. A babe is born in Bethlehem. He is our light. He is our hope. He is our peace. That is the first thing John tells us about the meaning of Christmas. Light has come into a world of darkness.
The second thing he tells us is why Christ came: he came that we might become children of God. So often we miss the real meaning of Christ’s coming. We say that Christ came to die for the sins of the world. Well, he did die. And by his death we do find salvation. But according to John, that wasn’t why he came. He came so that we might become a new creation. As John writes, “. . . to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” Or as J. B. Phillips put it in The Visited Planet: “the Prince of Glory went down to visit them to lift them up to become like Him.” Imagine that--you and I, children of God. That is, Christmas is ultimately about transformation.
Maybe you know the story of Lee Strobel. Strobel was a hard-nosed, investigative journalist for the Chicago Tribune, an avowed atheist. His editors gave him an assignment. He was to report on the struggles of an impoverished, inner-city family during the weeks leading up to Christmas.
This sent him to the Delgado family. Sixty-year-old Perfecta Delgado and her granddaughters, Lydia and Jenny, had been burned out of their roach-infested tenement and were now living in a tiny, two-room apartment. Strobel couldn’t believe how they lived. No furniture, no rugs, nothing on the walls--only a small kitchen table and one handful of rice. Their situation was so dire that 11-year-old Lydia and 13-year-old Jenny owned only one short-sleeved dress each, plus one thin, gray sweater which they shared.
“When they walked the half-mile to school through the biting cold, Lydia would wear the sweater for part of the distance and then hand it to her shivering sister, who would wear it the rest of the way.”
But despite their poverty, this impoverished grandmother and her granddaughters still had their faith in Jesus. He had not forsaken them. And that brought them joy.
Strobel completed his article and moved on to other assignments. But as Christmas approached, he thought of that family with so much joy, but not much else.
He wrestled with the irony of the situation. Here was a family that had nothing but faith, and yet seemed happy, while he had everything he needed materially, but lacked faith--and inside he felt as empty and barren as the Delgado’s apartment.
Strobel visited the family again, closer to Christmas, and was amazed at what he saw. His readers had responded overwhelmingly to the Delgado family’s need with new furniture, appliances, rugs, a Christmas tree, stacks of wrapped presents, food, and plenty of warm clothing for the girls. Also donated was an abundance of cash.
But the biggest surprise of all--one that knocked Strobel off his feet--was that the grandmother and her granddaughters were busy preparing gifts, themselves. They were giving away what had been given to them.
“Our neighbors are still in need,” Perfecta explained. “We cannot have plenty while they have nothing. This is what Jesus would want us to do.” She waved at all the gifts. “This is wonderful; this is very good,” she said.
“We did nothing to deserve this--it’s a gift from God. But it is not His greatest gift,” she said, her words cutting to the heart of the reporter who claimed there was no God. “No, we celebrate that (gift) tomorrow. That is Jesus.”
And Lee Strobel knew the Delgado family had something he didn’t. As he left that tiny apartment, he longed to know the Jesus they knew . . . And eventually, he did. Lee Strobel came to know Jesus. (6)
That’s why Christ came: to bring light into a dark word. To make it possible for every person on earth to know that they are children of God. He came so every person on earth might have the same kind of transformation that Lee Strobel had. How about you? The Prince of Glory came down to visit us to lift us up to become like Him.
1. New Testament Christianity. Cited by Ray Pritchard, http://www.keepbelieving.com/sermon/2003-12-14-Can-You-Hear-the-Angels-Singing-Christmas-and-the-Other-World/.
2. Contributed. Source unknown.
3. Greg Dean, Step by Step to Stand-Up Comedy, p. 172. Cited in David Bruce, The Coolest People in Comedy: 250 Anecdotes (Kindle Edition).
4. http://www.guideposts.org/blogs/life-faith-prayer/7-ways-to-keep-christ-in-christmas.
5. http://www.csec.org/csec/sermon/claypool_3716.htm.
6. Lee Strobel, The Case for Christmas (Zondervan, 2005). Cited by Andy Cook, http://www.lifeway.com/Article/sermon-anxiety-fear-worry-trust-philippians-4.