Topic: Christmas

A baby lies wrapped in cloth, placed not in a cradle but in a feeding trough, watched over by weary parents and curious shepherds.

This is one of the most familiar images in human history. It appears on Christmas cards, church banners, children’s storybooks, hymn sing posters, and even Christmas articles. We sing about it every December. We reenact it. We sentimentalise it. A newborn. A mother. A quiet night.

Why would the greatest story ever told begin like this? Why does the most decisive invasion of Earth look so unimpressive? We would think of a purple-looking conqueror with absolute power, an infinity gauntlet gleaming on his hand. But instead, we are given a child. Does that not seem odd? Have we grown far too familiar with the story, or is there something profoundly wondrous about this child?

If we slow down long enough to really look, the image should strike us as deeply strange. The Eternal Son, by whom and through whom all things were made (Colossians 1:16), in time took upon Himself a human nature, a body, a heartbeat. This is the wonder the apostle John writes in the first chapter of his gospel account:

“And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14, NASB1995)

Literally, the Word who was with God and was God pitched His tent among us. He descended into our frailty. The eternal Son of God lies in that manger, unable to lift his own head, dependent on a teenage girl for warmth and food. 

What we are confronted with every Christmas is a mystery. The power we expected when God descends is present but hidden, veiled beneath flesh and infancy. And this is the mystery we are invited not just to notice, but to behold.

Robed in Frail Humanity

“Come, behold the wondrous mystery
In the dawning of the King
He the theme of Heaven’s praises
Robed in frail humanity.”

The wonder of Christmas is not just that a child was born, but who this child is. This is not God pretending to be human. This is not God visiting in disguise. This is God becoming man. Eternity stepping into time. Christmas demands more than a glance. It calls for contemplation. It bids us stop, linger, and behold. The Author has written himself into the story.

“For in Him all the fullness of Deity dwells in bodily form.” (Colossians 2:9, NASB1995)

See the One whom heaven cannot contain now contained within a virgin’s womb (Luke 1:35). See the One who upholds the cosmos learning to crawl (Colossians 1:17). See the One who made Mary now drawing life from her by feeding from her. See the Creator who formed the oceans now breathing the air He Himself created. The One who designed the human brain now sleeps and dreams within one.

He walked among us. He slept. He wept (John 11:35). He grew weary (John 4:6). He learned obedience (Hebrews 5:8). He ate and drank. He felt the warmth of a friend’s embrace and the sting of betrayal’s kiss. He was like us

Why the God-Man?

But why this mystery? Why did God become man? Why must the salvation of mankind take this shape?  

God is Creator. We are creatures. And we have sinned against Him. Not just broken rules, but violated relationship. We have rejected His authority, distrusted His goodness, and pursued our own passions and desires. The gravity of our offence is immeasurable because it is committed against an infinite Holy God whose justice cannot be compromised.

Your eyes are too pure to approve evil, And You can not look on wickedness with favour (Habakkuk 1:13, NASB95)

Yet Only man ought to make the payment, since man has sinned (Ezekiel 18:4). But only God can make the payment, since only God possesses infinite worth. This is where the wisdom of God is made manifest. As St. Anselm of Canterbury puts it, it has to be a God-Man.

In the sufferings of Christ, there was that which was human, that He might be capable of death; and that which was divine, that His death might be efficacious for the salvation of sinners - John Owen, Communion with God (paraphrased)

He did not come just to set an example. He did not come simply to inspire moral resolve. Only one who is fully human could stand in our place, live in our stead, suffer in our body, die our death. 

Therefore, He had to be made like His brethren in all things, so that He might become a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. (Hebrews 2:17, NASB95)

Only one who is fully divine could offer a sacrifice of infinite value, untainted by sin (Hebrews 9:14).

Born to Bleed

What kind of people require God himself to be like them to be saved? Sinful and wicked people (Romans 3:10-12). Helpless people (Romans 5:6). People who cannot save themselves or do anything to earn a right standing with this Holy God.

But the hymn beckons:

“Come behold the wondrous mystery:
Christ the Lord upon the tree.
In the stead of ruined sinners,
hangs the Lamb in victory.”

What Child is this? This is the Child born to be pierced. The child whose tiny hands will be fastened onto a wood, not for His own sake, but for ours. The Child was born to bleed. Not as a tragic accident. Not as a noble misunderstanding. But as the eternal plan of God, determined before the foundation of the world (Acts 2:23)

But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; The chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, And by His scourging we are healed. (Isaiah 53:5, NASB95).

The humility of Christ’s birth tells us something honest about our condition. If we could climb our way to God, he would not have needed to come down to us. If moral improvement were enough, Bethlehem would be unnecessary.

But “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). And so glory came down.

Behold and Believe

So what shall we do with this mystery? How should we respond as we behold it?

The only proper response to Christmas is faith. Not admiration alone. Not nostalgia. Not religious sentiment warmed by carols and candles. Faith. Faith that this Child really was who the scriptures claimed Him to be: God with us (Matthew 1:23), the Word made flesh (John 1:14), the Savior of the world (Luke 2:11). To behold the mystery is to be summoned to trust the Christ it reveals.

You shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins. (Matthew 1:21, NASB1995)

The shepherds did not merely look at the Child; they went to Him (Luke 2:15–16). The magi did not simply study the signs; they fell to their face and worshipped (Matthew 2:11). Mary did not fully understand, but she believed and treasured these things in her heart (Luke 2:19).

To behold is to bow. To see is to surrender. To behold Him rightly is not merely to admire the scene, but to trust the One lying in the manger. To marvel at the mercy, faithfulness and salvation of God. The manager confronts us with the horror of our sin. It was our guilt that made Christmas necessary. 

Sin is the ugliness of Christmas. It stands behind the scene and is the reason the Savior came - John MacArthur

If God must become man to rescue us, then our plight is worse than we think, and His love is greater than we can ever imagine.

“Come, behold the wondrous mystery
Slain by death, the God of life
But no grave could ever restrain Him
Praise the Lord, He is alive.”

The God of life entered death itself, and death could not hold Him (Acts 2:24). So Christmas calls us not only to marvel, but to turn. To lay down our pride. To abandon our self-reliance. To confess our need. And to trust fully in the Child who came to save sinners. To respond not to seasonal sentimentality, but deep, honouring, joyful adoration. To see this baby and say with Thomas, “My Lord and my God!” To behold the mystery and echo the angels: “Glory to God in the highest!”(Luke 2:14)

He calls you and me, not just to behold, but to bow in faith, in awe, and in reverent worship. 

Come Behold the Wondrous Mystery — yet to come

And yet, as wondrous as Christmas is, it is not the end of the story. This same child who was later crucified, died, buried, rose from the grave and ascended to heaven, will come again. It will not be in obscurity, but in glory (Matthew 25:31). Not to suffer, but to reign (Revelation 11:15). Not in humility, but in splendour. 

This means Christmas is not just a memory to be cherished, but a promise to be trusted. The first coming guarantees the second. So we wait as we sing:

“What a foretaste of deliverance,
How unwavering our hope.
Christ in power resurrected,
As we will be when He comes.”

This Christmas, then, let us do more than sentimentalise. Let us meditate on this mystery:  the God who came near, the Saviour who bore our sin, the King who will return in glory.  And as we behold this mystery, may our hope be kindled and our worship deepened until faith becomes sight.

Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you will abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13, NASB95)