THERE was a reason why at Bethlehem the angels should sing the Soli Deo Gloria, that is, the: “Glory to God in the highest.” Has not the outcome taught all but too bitterly, that at no christian feast is the glory of God so little remembered, as at the commemoration of Jesus’ birth.
At Christmas-tide there is no end to the recitals of the Babe of Bethlehem, and of the angels that descended. By their beauty and loveliness these ever unique scenes in the fields of Ephrata and in the stable of Bethlehem, prove so attractive. And even many a preacher, alas, who has no more childlike faith in these wondrous narratives, so that to him they are nothing more than poetry, still feels himself enthralled by the philosophic thought, that in Jesus of Nazareth the life of God conflowed with the life of men; and in the pulpit at times this philosophy still makes him eloquent.
But under all these forms the charms of Christmas goes out from the human. It is a human child, that is welcomed in the manger. It is a being well-pleased with men that is overheard in the song which God’s angels sang. It is our human nature, in which the Savior appears. It is a woman from among the children of men, from whom He is born. And all this Christmas mystery, what does it mean other than to prepare happiness for us men?
It is the Child, that attracts all eyes to itself. It is the salvation procured for us by that Child, in which the Christmas song exults.
But … . that “God so loved the world”, as to give us that Child; that in the counsel of God this Savior was provided for us; that by God’s act the “peace on earth” is given us; no, it is not denied, it is not contradicted; but who at Christmas-tide makes you feel that this is the cause of his gladness? Who counts with the Soli Deo Gloria, “To God alone the glory”, when Christmas joy goes purling through the land?
And yet, at Christmas-tide the first note of the angel-song that rings anew in your ears, is: “Glory to God in the highest.”
Those angels did not come of themselves, but they were sent of God. What they sang, was no improvisation, but a hymn of praise inspired in them by God Himself.
For once and always, for all times and all ages, so long as the form of this world shall not have passed away, it has been the will of God, that at Christmas, in a special manner, we should look away from all self-glory, and give glory alone to Him, the God of all mercies.
Most surely that Babe may and should enthrall you, and you may feel yourself attracted by all the charm of that Evangel of Christmas; but not to forget your God with it, and to enjoy the Holy Feast, without a lifting up of soul to Him, Who gave you both that Child, and in that Child all the riches of your Christmas Evangel.
He ever is the overflowing Fountain of this good. That Child, which the earth receives, is God’s own dear Son, the brightness of His glory and the express Image of His Substance.
And this greatest, this most precious of all gifts, God suffered to be born of a woman, even of Mary, because He so loved the world.
The shepherds who returned from the manger, did what the angels had commanded them to do, for they went back to their flocks “glorifying and praising God”; and when presently Simeon was privileged to take the holy Child up in his arms, he, too, blessed God.
The Babe in the manger does not yet speak; from that Babe no acts as yet go out. Speechless from Bethlehem it looks out into the world. And Mary herself does not divert you. She ponders, and listens, rather than offer to say a word. With the exception of the Song of the angels, Bethlehem presents a quiet, silent scene, as though everything invites you to think of Him, to lift up your heart to Him, to mingle love and praise as an offering to Him, Who in His counsel has thought out this wonder, and has made it real according to the riches of His mercies.
On the human side, therefore, at Bethelehem everything is in a state of humbleness and lowliness. A little town of no distinction; a stable without conveniences; a woman who is counted as of inferior rank; common shepherds in coarse garb of the field.
And, therefore, there is nothing in what is human here, that diverts you. All that makes Bethlehem a center of glory, comes from above, is from God, is Divine greatness.
It is not the loveliness of the Babe that should engage you, but in that Babe the Incarnate Word must be adored.
For had that Babe, already from the manger, been able to address you, He would not have directed your attention to His earthly mother, but to His Father Who is in heaven; to offer Him the glory and the praises of His Name.
No, not as man, but as sinner you are invited to Bethelehem’s manger, and from that inner perception the “Glory to God in the highest” must arise.
All that emphasis that is laid upon the human exalts us, and raises the high thought in us, of the superiority of our human nature, and that this high and excellent nature of man is glorified by the coming of the Christ. This accounts for the frequency of the mention of the Godhuman. So it is we, that is our nature, that is crowned by the Divine.
But this becomes altogether different, when as a sinner, silently and reverently you make your approach to that manger.
For then there is nothing that exalts you or brings you an high opinion of yourself.
On the contrary, then it is all self-mortification, speechless confusion, and dismantling of soul.
Then you feel at once the distance between yourself, who are conceived and born in sin, and this Divine Babe that “is conceived by the Holy Ghost.”
Then at that manger all that is human is humbled. Then the very brightness of that holy Child brings out the darkness of the shadow of sin, that rests upon yourself.
And what then enthralls and attracts is no more the emotional, it is no more the poetry, in which it all lies enswathed, but, altogether differently, it is the blessed knowledge, that he who believes in that Babe shall not perish, but have everlasting life.
Then Jesus is the lovely name, “all other names above”, not because “the Babe wrapped in swaddling clothes” appeals to your emotions, but because He shall save His people from their sins.
And, in that manger it is then the Son of God, Who was rich, and became poor for your sake, that by this human poverty of His earthly existence, He, O child of the Lord, might make you rich.
And so from personal experience you learn, what that “glory to God in the highest” once meant to God’s angels, and what it must mean on your lips.
For your sin is not a pitiful sickness, which by its misery aroused Divine commiseration, without at the same time wounding Him in His majesty.
On the contrary, your sin arrayed itself against your God; nursed enmity against your God; cast Him off; and was a wandering far off from the God Who made you.
And this is the wondrousness, with singing about which the angels are never done, that notwithstanding all this, your Creator and your God, the Eternal Being in His majesty, has provided a counsel of salvation for you; and has fulfilled that counsel of His Mercy in Bethlehem.
Such is the overflowing fulness of the mercifulness of the Lord, that at the manger overwhelms you.
Your God at that manger of Bethlehem is so great.
For though from childhood you have been familiar with this mystery of Divine mercy, and therefore do not take it any more to be so enigmatical, yet this is the holy mystery which angels desired to look into, and from which still in dying all your consolation shall flow unto you.
The more deeply, therefore, you enter into this mystery, the richer your Christmas joy will be.
By this only does that manger become something personal to you. A gift of God to your soul. A gift, the richness of which is feasted upon by your soul.
With him who, with such spiritual application to his own soul, makes his approach to that manger, the glory of God must weigh upon his soul. And when from higher spheres you hear those angels raise the anthem of praise unto God, you can not remain silent but from the earth you, too, must stammer after them: To Him Who is in heaven, be all my praise and all my jubilation!
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