And So It Begins . . .

The Great Battle of Our Time

Christmas can be a maudlin festival.  Baby Jesus in the manger, surrounded by lowing cattle, doted upon by loving parents, visited by shepherds.  Every loving parent feels drawn to the story.  Every mother identifies and feels affirmed.  This is the best that Unbelief can do with Christmas.  It is a pale perversion of the truth.  It is a comforting myth. 

In no way do we wish to undermine the celebration of the Advent.  It truly is a time for rejoicing, thanksgiving, and dancing on the high places.  But in order to do that we have to see the reality of what it was and is.  Here are just some of the realities that make dancing on the high placed mandatory for those who truly see and believe.

Firstly, there are the antinomies of Advent that leave us astounded, humbled, yet soaring in wonder.  Justin Taylor writes:

Charles Spurgeon preached in 1858 on the wonderful paradoxes of the incarnation:

Infinite, and an infant—
eternal, and yet born of a woman—
Almighty, and yet hanging on a woman’s breast—
supporting the universe, and yet needing to be carried in a mother’s arms—
king of angels, and yet the reputed son of Joseph—
heir of all things and yet the carpenter’s carpenter’s despised son.

In the light of these awesome realities and perplexities we are stumped by the Incarnation and by Advent.  We find ourselves "lost in wonder, love, and praise".  We metaphorically want to take our shoes off, for we sense ourselves to be on holy ground.

Secondly,  the Advent that chills our bones because of the curse represented in it.  The conditions of the birth of Christ were not romantic, but degraded, bearing all the hallmarks of the curses of the Covenant.  To birth a child lying amongst animals is shocking and degrading.  The mud, the filth of animal faeces, the stench of urine, the abject poverty--all this stabs at our vitals because we know we were its cause.  Because of our sin and covenant breaking, Christ came forth to take on the full weight of divine wrath in our place.  As the Heidelberg Catechism so succinctly puts it:

Q.37: What do you understand by the word "suffered", as in " . . . Suffered under Pontius Pilate"?

That during his whole life on earth, but especially at the end, Christ sustained in body and soul the anger of God against the sin of the whole human race.

He started bearing that curse for us at His first entrance into the world. 

Thirdly, the Advent is the beginning of the end.  No doubt the angels of heaven looked at one another and said, "And so it begins--the great battle of all time."  In this battle our Lord would be triumphant.  He would bear the curse, He would enter into Hell and free those of His people captive there.  He would rise and ascend to the Father and be installed as King of the heavens and the earth.  From that moment, the earth would start to fill up with the glory of God, until finally it would cover the earth as the waters cover the sea.

So, at Advent there is wonder, there is humility and shame, but there is also dancing.  He has come, and His Kingdom has come with Him--and we are part of it.  This is more important to us than anything.  "God has highly exalted Him, and bestowed on Him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those who are in heaven, and on earth and under the earth, and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."  (Philippians 2: 9--11)  Nothing can avoid this outcome.  Nothing can stay His hand.  Every struggle and battle we face will but end up magnifying the greatness of His glory, power, and victory. 

Whilst it is true the powers arrayed against us are great this will only redound to the greater glory of the Son of God as they are brought before His feet. 

This is why Advent is one of the most profound festivals of our year.  "And so it began . . ."