Our family set a personal record this year for getting our Christmas tree up. Knowing that we would be in Fort Worth, TX the week of Thanksgiving, we got the tree out and decorated it the weekend before Thanksgiving. In fact our entire house was festively adorned by the time we left Memphis on November 23. This year, as with previous years, we used a lot of lights in our decorating. We put multiple strands on our tree. Our fireplace mantle is covered with greenery and more lights. Jordan and Jacob each own a small Christmas tree and each has its own lights. We placed additional lights around the entryway of the house. We ran lights outside along the roofline. And this year I wrapped lights around the trunk and branches of one our crepe myrtles in the front yard. Lights play a large role in the Altrock Christmas tradition. Perhaps they do for you as well.
Let’s consider Christmas lights for a moment. Christmas lights are the kind of lights that draw attention to themselves. Ponder, for example, the purpose of the lights on a Christmas tree. How many of you have a tree with lights on it? Are those lights on that tree so that you can see the tree better? No. Their function is not to allow us to see something on the tree which we could not see without the lights. Their function is to draw attention to themselves. Think about the purpose of the Christmas lights on the outside of a home. How many of you have Christmas lights on the outside of your home? Are those lights there so that you can see your house better? No. Their function is not to allow us to see something about the house which we couldn’t see without the lights. Their function is to draw attention to themselves. When I pull up to my house at night, I cannot see the house any better than I could without the Christmas lights. I barely notice the house at all. What I notice are the colored lights. Christmas lights are the kind of lights that draw attention to themselves.
Consider the Christmas lights at the Shelby Farms Starry Nights exhibit. Starry Nights features 1.5 million Christmas lights. Many of these lights are not fixed to anything like a tree or a house. Instead, many of the light strings are shaped into Christmas figures and affixed to metal or other backgrounds. They don’t illuminate anything. They don’t help you see something else any better. Their purpose is to draw attention to themselves. Visitors to Starry Nights “ooh” and “ahh” at the train made of lights, bright balls of lights, and other giant-sized Christmas shapes. Christmas lights are the kind of lights that draw attention to themselves.
It’s easy to read our text this morning with a similar idea in mind: And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth…No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known. (John 1:14,18 ESV) This is John’s Christmas account. John is not going to tell us the historic details of Jesus’ birth. He’s not going to focus on a manger, or Mary and Joseph, or angels and shepherds. He’s going to tell us the meaning of the birth. John tells us that the Word, the self-expression of God, God himself, became flesh. God took on humanity. And if we were there and could have taken out our cell phone or our digital camera and snapped a couple of pictures at the birth of Jesus, John says this is what we would see: “glory.” And we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father… “Glory” is a big word in the Bible. There’s a lot of meanings stuffed into that word “glory.” Here in John 1, one of the meanings of glory is “light.”[1] Earlier in John 1 John describes Jesus in this way: In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it (Jn. 1:4 ESV). The word “glory” carries the idea of light. If we describe an object as “glorious” we mean that it shines, it glows, and that it has brilliance to it.
The question is what kind of light is represented by Jesus’ glory? When John says that Jesus’ glory is the “glory as of the only Son from the Father” he’s saying that Jesus’ glory is the kind of brilliance that could only come from the only Son of the only God. Perhaps we could think of it this way: God is the ultimate light. Purer than any other source. Brighter than any other beam. And Jesus, John says, is no second-rate light. He’s not a 40 watt bulb compared to God’s 100 watt bulb. Jesus, John says, is the only Son from the Father. His light is God’s light. Purer than any other source. Brighter than any other beam. Jesus comes with the very glory or brilliance of God himself.
Glory as light is often how artists portray the birth scene. This picture is a typical artistic rendering of the birth of Jesus. The baby Jesus is so glorious that he fills the little manger with light. The glow pours out from the manger over the surrounding wilderness.
And given all of this language about glory and light, and our traditional images of the birth of Jesus, it’s easy to assume that glory of Jesus is the kind of light which draws attention to itself. It’s there for its own sake. Its purpose is to grab our attention and force us to focus on it. God took part of himself, filled it with his light, sent it to earth, and then plugged it in. And it shined gloriously and brilliantly!
But John’s actually saying something different here. As we’ve seen, John’s Christmas account is based on another account. If John were writing today, he might preface John 1:14-18 with this: The following is a true account based on the book of Exodus. John cannot write about the birth of Jesus without using language from the book of Exodus. We saw this last Sunday with John’s use of the word “tabernacle.” We see this in our text this morning in John’s use of “glory.” John writes verses 14 and 18 with Exodus 33-34 in mind.[2]
Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann calls this part of Exodus “the most thorough and sustained struggle with the problem of presence in the entire Old Testament.”[3] This part of Exodus is about the human struggle to know God and our wondering if God is really present with us. The reason this struggle pops up here in Exodus is due to the fact that while Moses has been on the mountain with God, the people below have given up on Moses and on God. They’ve fashioned an idol in the form of a golden calf. Now Moses and God confront the people. And the people are afraid. Have they ruined everything for all time? Will God forgive? Will God still be present with them?
Moses himself is particularly troubled. So he makes this request: 18Moses said, “Please show me your glory.” 19And he said, “I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name ‘The LORD.’ And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. 20But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live.” 21And the LORD said, “Behold, there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock, 22and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by. 23Then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back, but my face shall not be seen.” (Ex. 33:18-22 ESV). Moses asks to see God’s glory: Please show me your glory. Moses wants to have more than just a promise from God to hear with his ears. He wants a presence he can see with his eyes. He doesn’t just want a verbal assurance that God will still be with them in spite of their flaws. He wants living proof that God will be with them. He wants to see God in all his glory. He wants God turn the spotlight on himself and to allow Moses to clearly see that God is with them. And God says “Yes”—with a caveat. Moses cannot see God’s face. Moses cannot see God in all his glory. That would be too much for Moses. God will allow Moses only to see his backside. That’s all the glory Moses can handle.
And John borrows that language in his Christmas account.[4] And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth…No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known. (John 1:14,18 ESV) The glory of Jesus which John speaks of is not the kind of light which draws attention to itself. It is the kind of light which draws attention to someone else. Jesus’ glory is a light which draws attention to someone else—the Father. When John writes that Jesus “is at the Father’s side,” he literally writes that Jesus “is at the Father’s bosom.” The word “bosom” reminds me of a baby sleeping on a mother’s chest. So close. So intimate. It reminds me of a Father hugging a much-loved son to his chest. So close. So intimate. John’s saying that Jesus is not just the only Son of the Father. He is saying that Jesus has spent eternity at that Father’s bosom. He knows the Father intimately. Therefore, he’s the perfect candidate to shed light on the Father. Jesus’ glory is the kind of light that draws attention to the Father—a Father Jesus is very intimate with.
2T.5
We know Jesus’ light is that kind of light because John goes on to say that only Jesus “has made God known.” Literally John writes that Jesus “has exegeted God.” Dr. Allen Black, a Highland member and a professor at Harding Graduate School, makes his living exegeting Scripture. He takes a passage from the Bible and is able to explain everything about it: what the individual words mean, who the author was, why the author wrote them, and what historical or cultural references in the text mean. In the same way, John is saying, Jesus exegetes God. Jesus is able to explain everything about God. New Testament scholar D. A. Carson writes that this word “exegete” or “make known” also means “to tell a narrative” or “to narrate.”[5] Jesus tells the true story about God. Jesus is able to narrate everything you always wondered about God. He sheds light on God.
During Thanksgiving, my family and I visited my brother and his family in Fort Worth. We spent part of a day at an enormous Cabela’s store filled with outdoor equipment. Jacob found a large floodlight. It was advertised as having ten million candle power. You point this at an object and there’s hardly anything about that object you will not see. It’s powerful beam will illuminate everything about that object. John’s saying that Jesus is that kind of light. He’s not the kind of light that draws attention to itself. Instead, he’s the kind of light that draws attention to something else. Jesus, John writes, did not come to earth to point a light on himself. He came to point a light at God. And he shined so brightly that there was nothing about God that couldn’t be seen.
My parents recently visited Budapest. In the evening they took some photos of the parliament building and a nearby bridge. Notice what the lights in this photo are doing. The lights are not drawing attention to themselves. The lights are drawing attention to something else. They are revealing the beauty and goodness of the bridge and the parliament building. Jesus, John writes, revealed the beauty and the goodness of God. He illuminated God so that what caught our eye was the glorious goodness of God. Jesus pointed his light at God and there was nothing about God you couldn’t see.
A couple of Highland friends wrote me recently about their favorite Christmas gifts. Pat Wilemon, long-time Highland member told me it was on a Christmas that her and her husband Bud first met. Ken Fowler, another long-time Highland member, told me that one Christmas Eve he told his sister that he was just fine with being a bachelor. That Christmas morning he met Julie. She is now his wife. For Pat and Bud and for Ken and Julie Christmas was that moment when someone very important first became known to them. The most important human in their life first became known to them at Christmas. John is saying something similar. That first Christmas was the moment when God really became known to the human race. That baby Jesus would so illuminate and exegete and narrate God, that there’s nothing about God we would not know.
About four weeks ago I participated in a pre-release class at the Mark Luttrell Correctional Center for Women. Five of us were there to encourage these women, all of them looking forward to being released from prison. We urged them to consider participating in HopeWorks and other programs like this when they got out. Allen Wagner, of Wagner Construction, shared some of his own story with the women. Allen talked about how, in college, he started smoking marijuana, and then started snorting cocaine, and how he got involved in all kinds of relationships he shouldn’t have. Then one day he realized how miserable he was. Eventually, Allen turned his back on all of that darkness and embraced God. While Allen was speaking, one of the women convicts named April left the room. She was weeping. After a few moments, she returned. But she was solemn through the rest of our presentation. Afterwards, the class facilitator led April over to me and Ron Wade. April, it turns out, was an atheist. When she came to prison, she did not believe in God. But she had been attending this pre-release class in which the coordinator spoke often about God. Many of the other women in the class were also very devout. Our entire presentation that morning had been centered upon God. And something was happening inside of April. The coordinator told us April was having feelings she had never had before. “How can I feel this way about God when I don’t even believe in God?” she asked. We huddled and prayed together with April. It was as if somehow a light in her heart had been turned on. It was as if she was just beginning to see. There is a God. That God is a good. That God loves her. And he wants her to know him.
That’s why God sent Jesus. That’s what the birth of Jesus was all about. He came to turn on a light in our hearts. He came to help us finally see. There is a God. That God is good. That God loves us. And he wants us to know him. Jesus did not come just to die for our failures. He also came to show us our Father. He came as the light, full of glory, revealing all the goodness and greatness of God.
Barry Mitchell, one of our elders, recently shared with me the story of a friend. His friend was very involved in a congregation. He taught Bible classes. He led worship. He was as active a Christian as there ever was. But then someone very close to this friend died. And the death rocked this man’s faith to its core. The death disillusioned this man. And he told Barry, “I no longer believe in God.” Barry worked with the man. He met often with him. And over time, the man finally confessed, “I do believe in God. I just don’t like the God I believe in.” That’s something that can happen, even during holiday seasons. Darkness creeps into our hearts. We get discouraged. We get disillusioned. And we get upset with God. We still believe in him. But we don’t really like the God we believe in. If that describes you this morning, I’d encourage you to see God once again through the light of Jesus. Let Jesus show you the God he believes in. Let Jesus paint for you the God he sees. Because when you really begin to view God through the light of Jesus, he once again becomes a God you love. He once again becomes a God who loves you.
Maybe that’s you this morning. You are discouraged. You are disillusioned. Let me urge you to come and let us pray with you today. Let us pray that you’d believe once more in the God Jesus believes in. Let us pray with you that you’d see the God Jesus sees.
Maybe you’re more like April this morning, that convict who couldn’t help believing. Maybe for you the light’s finally coming on. You’re beginning to understand that there is a God and he loves you and Jesus shows you who this God really is. If you’re ready for the next step, let us baptize you this morning. Let us help you enter into relationship with this God whom Jesus shows.
[1] Walter Brueggemann, “The Book of Genesis,” in The New Interpreter’s Bible Volume 1 (Abingdon, 1994), 940.
[2] D. A. Carson, The God Who is There: Finding Your Place in God’s Story (Baker Books), Kindle Edition, Location 1671-1680; D. A. Carson The Gospel According to John (IVP, 1991), 134.
[3] Brueggemann, 937.
[4] Carson, The God Who is There, Location 1655-1663.
[5] Carson, John, 135.
