“And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you
good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you
is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the
Lord.”—Luke ii. 10, 11.
There are two principal lessons which we are taught on the great
Festival which we this day celebrate, lowliness and joy. This surely is
a day, of all others, in which is set before us the heavenly excellence
and the acceptableness in God's sight of that state which most men
have, or may have, allotted to them, humble or private life, and
cheerfulness in it. If we consult the writings of historians,
philosophers, and poets of this world, we shall be led to think great
men happy; we shall be led to fix our minds and hearts upon high or
conspicuous stations, strange adventures, powerful talents to cope with
them, memorable struggles, and great destinies. We shall consider that
the highest course of life is the mere pursuit, not the enjoyment of
good.
But when we think of this day's Festival, and what we commemorate
upon it, a new and very different scene opens upon us. First, we are
reminded that though this life must ever be a life of toil and effort,
yet that, properly speaking, we have not to seek our highest good. It
is found, it is brought near us, in the descent of the Son of God from
His Father's bosom to this world. It is stored up among us on earth. No
longer need men of ardent minds weary themselves in the pursuit of what
they fancy may be chief goods; no longer have they to wander about and
encounter peril in quest of that unknown blessedness to which their
hearts naturally aspire, as they did in heathen times. The text speaks
to them and to all, “Unto you,” it says, “is born this day in the city
of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.”
Nor, again, need we go in quest of any of those things which this
vain world calls great and noble. Christ altogether dishonoured what
the world esteems, when He took on Himself a rank and station which the
world despises. No lot could be more humble and more ordinary than that
which the Son of God chose for Himself.
So that we have on the Feast of the Nativity these two
lessons—instead of anxiety within and despondence without, instead of
a weary search after great things,—to be cheerful and joyful; and,
again, to be so in the midst of those obscure and ordinary
circumstances of life which the world passes over and thinks scorn of.
Let us consider this more at length, as contained in the gracious
narrative of which the text is part.
1. First, what do we read just before the text? that there were
certain shepherds keeping watch over their flock by night, and Angels
appeared to them. Why should the heavenly hosts appear to these
shepherds? What was it in them which attracted the attention of the
Angels and the Lord of Angels? Were these shepherds learned,
distinguished, or powerful? Were they especially known for piety and
gifts? Nothing is said to make us think so. Faith, we may safely say,
they had, or some of them, for to him that hath more shall be given;
but there is nothing to show that they were holier and more enlightened
than other good men of the time, who waited for the consolation of
Israel. Nay, there is no reason to suppose that they were better than
the common run of men in their circumstances, simple, and fearing God,
but without any great advances in piety, or any very formed habits of
religion. Why then were they chosen? for their poverty's sake and
obscurity. Almighty God looks with a sort of especial love, or (as we
may term it) affection, upon the lowly. Perhaps it is that man, a
fallen, dependent, and destitute creature, is more in his proper place
when he is in lowly circumstances, and that power and riches, though
unavoidable in the case of some, are unnatural appendages to man, as
such. Just as there are trades and callings which are unbecoming,
though requisite; and while we profit by them, and honour those the
more who engage in them, yet we feel we are glad that they are not
ours; as we feel grateful and respectful towards a soldier's
profession, yet do not affect it; so in God's sight greatness is less
acceptable than obscurity. It becomes us less.
The shepherds, then, were chosen on account of their lowliness, to
be the first to hear of the Lord's nativity, a secret which none of the
princes of this world knew.
And what a contrast is presented to us when we take into account who
were our Lord's messengers to them! The Angels who excel in strength,
these did His bidding towards the shepherds. Here the highest and the
lowest of God's rational creatures are brought together. A set of poor
men, engaged in a life of hardship, exposed at that very time to the
cold and darkness of the night, watching their flocks, with the view of
scaring away beasts of prey or robbers; they—when they are thinking of
nothing but earthly things, counting over the tale of their sheep,
keeping their dogs by their side, and listening to the noises over the
plain, considering the weather and watching for the day—suddenly are
met by far other visitants than they conceived. We know the contracted
range of thought, the minute and ordinary objects, or rather the one or
two objects, to and fro again and again without variety, which engage
the minds of men exposed to such a life of heat, cold, and wet, hunger
and nakedness, hardship and servitude. They cease to care much for any
thing, but go on in a sort of mechanical way, without heart, and still
more without reflection.
To men so circumstanced the Angel appeared, to open their minds, and
to teach them not to be downcast and in bondage because they were low
in the world. He appeared as if to show them that God had chosen the
poor in this world to be heirs of His kingdom, and so to do honour to
their lot. “Fear not,” he said, “for behold I bring you good tidings of
great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day
in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.”
2. And now comes a second lesson, which I have said may be gained
from the Festival. The Angel honoured a humble lot by his very
appearing to the shepherds; next he taught it to be joyful by his
message. He disclosed good tidings so much above this world as to
equalize high and low, rich and poor, one with another. He said, “Fear
not.” This is a mode of address frequent in Scripture, as you may have
observed, as if man needed some such assurance to support him,
especially in God's presence. The Angel said, “Fear not,” when he saw
the alarm which his presence caused among the shepherds. Even a lesser
wonder would have reasonably startled them. Therefore the Angel said,
“Fear not.” We are naturally afraid of any messenger from the other
world, for we have an uneasy conscience when left to ourselves, and
think that his coming forebodes evil. Besides, we so little realize the
unseen world, that were Angel or spirit to present himself before us we
should be startled by reason of our unbelief, a truth being brought
home to our minds which we never apprehended before. So for one or
other reason the shepherds were sore afraid when the glory of the Lord
shone around about them. And the Angel said, “Fear not.” A little
religion makes us afraid; when a little light is poured in upon the
conscience, there is a darkness visible; nothing but sights of woe and
terror; the glory of God alarms while it shines around. His holiness,
the range and difficulties of His commandments, the greatness of His
power, the faithfulness of His word, frighten the sinner, and men
seeing him afraid, think religion has made him so, whereas he is not
yet religious at all. They call him religious, when he is merely
conscience-stricken. But religion itself, far from inculcating alarm
and terror, says, in the words of the Angel, “Fear not;” for such is
His mercy, while Almighty God has poured about us His glory, yet it is
a consolatory glory, for it is the light of His glory in the Face of
Jesus Christ[2]. Thus the heavenly herald tempered the too dazzling
brightness of the Gospel on that first Christmas. The glory of God at
first alarmed the shepherds, so he added the tidings of good, to work
in them a more wholesome and happy temper. Then they rejoiced.
“Fear not,” said the Angel, “for behold I bring you good tidings of
great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day
in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.” And then,
when he had finished his announcement, “suddenly there was with the
Angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, Glory
to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will towards men.” Such
were the words which the blessed Spirits who minister to Christ and His
Saints, spoke on that gracious night to the shepherds, to rouse them
out of their cold and famished mood into great joy; to teach them that
they were objects of God's love as much as the greatest of men on
earth; nay more so, for to them first He had imparted the news of what
that night was happening. His Son was then born into the world. Such
events are told to friends and intimates, to those whom we love, to
those who will sympathize with us, not to strangers. How could Almighty
God be more gracious, and show His favour more impressively to the
lowly and the friendless, than by hastening (if I may use the term) to
confide the great, the joyful secret to the shepherds keeping watch
over their sheep by night?
The Angel then gave the first lesson of mingled humility and
joyfulness; but an infinitely greater one was behind in the event
itself, to which he directed the shepherds, in that birth itself of the
Holy Child Jesus. This he intimated in these words: “Ye shall find the
babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.” Doubtless, when
they heard the Lord's Christ was born into the world, they would look
for Him in kings' palaces. They would not be able to fancy that He had
become one of themselves, or that they might approach Him; therefore
the Angel thus warned them where to find Him, not only as a sign, but
as a lesson also.
“The shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto
Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord
hath made known to us.” Let us too go with them, to contemplate that
second and greater miracle to which the Angel directed them, the
Nativity of Christ. St. Luke says of the Blessed Virgin, “She brought
forth her first-born Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and
laid Him in a manger.” What a wonderful sign is this to all the world,
and therefore the Angel repeated it to the shepherds: “Ye shall find
the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.” The God of
heaven and earth, the Divine Word, who had been in glory with the
Eternal Father from the beginning, He was at this time born into this
world of sin as a little infant. He, as at this time, lay in His
mother's arms, to all appearance helpless and powerless, and was
wrapped by Mary in an infant's bands, and laid to sleep in a manger.
The Son of God Most High, who created the worlds, became flesh, though
remaining what He was before. He became flesh as truly as if He had
ceased to be what He was, and had actually been changed into flesh. He
submitted to be the offspring of Mary, to be taken up in the hands of a
mortal, to have a mother's eye fixed upon Him, and to be cherished at a
mother's bosom. A daughter of man became the Mother of God—to her,
indeed, an unspeakable gift of grace; but in Him what condescension!
What an emptying of His glory to become man! and not only a helpless
infant, though that were humiliation enough, but to inherit all the
infirmities and imperfections of our nature which were possible to a
sinless soul. What were His thoughts, if we may venture to use such
language or admit such a reflection concerning the Infinite, when human
feelings, human sorrows, human wants, first became His? What a mystery
is there from first to last in the Son of God becoming man! Yet in
proportion to the mystery is the grace and mercy of it; and as is the
grace, so is the greatness of the fruit of it.
Let us steadily contemplate the mystery, and say whether any
consequence is too great to follow from so marvellous a dispensation;
any mystery so great, any grace so overpowering, as that which is
already manifested in the incarnation and death of the Eternal Son.
Were we told that the effect of it would be to make us as Seraphim,
that we were to ascend as high as He descended low—would that startle
us after the Angel's news to the shepherds? And this indeed is the
effect of it, so far as such words may be spoken without impiety. Men
we remain, but not mere men, but gifted with a measure of all those
perfections which Christ has in fulness, partaking each in his own
degree of His Divine Nature so fully, that the only reason (so to
speak) why His saints are not really like Him, is that it is
impossible—that He is the Creator, and they His creatures; yet still
so, that they are all but Divine, all that they can be made without
violating the incommunicable majesty of the Most High. Surely in
proportion to His glory is His power of glorifying; so that to say that
through Him we shall be made all but gods—though it is to say,
that we are infinitely below the adorable Creator—still is to say, and
truly, that we shall be higher than every other being in the world;
higher than Angels or Archangels, Cherubim or Seraphim—that is, not
here, or in ourselves, but in heaven and in Christ:—Christ, already
the first-fruits of our race, God and man, having ascended high above
all creatures, and we through His grace tending to the same high
blessedness, having the earnest of His glory given here, and (if we be
found faithful) the fulness of it hereafter.
If all these things be so, surely the lesson of joy which the
Incarnation gives us is as impressive as the lesson of humility. St.
Paul gives us the one lesson in his epistle to the Philippians: “Let
this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus: who, being in the
form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: but made
Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant, and
was made in the likeness of men[3]:” and St. Peter gives us the lesson
of joyfulness: “whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye
see Him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full
of glory: receiving the end of your faith, even the salvation of your
souls.”
Take these thoughts with you, my brethren, to your homes on this
festive day; let them be with you in your family and social meetings.
It is a day of joy; it is good to be joyful—it is wrong to be
otherwise. For one day we may put off the burden of our polluted
consciences, and rejoice in the perfections of our Saviour Christ,
without thinking of ourselves, without thinking of our own miserable
uncleanness; but contemplating His glory, His righteousness, His
purity, His majesty, His overflowing love. We may rejoice in the Lord,
and in all His creatures see Him. We may enjoy His temporal bounty, and
partake the pleasant things of earth with Him in our thoughts; we may
rejoice in our friends for His sake, loving them most especially
because He has loved them.
“God has not appointed us unto wrath, but to obtain salvation
through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, that whether we wake or
sleep, we should live together with Him.” Let us seek the grace of a
cheerful heart, an even temper, sweetness, gentleness, and brightness
of mind, as walking in His light, and by His grace. Let us pray Him to
give us the spirit of ever-abundant, ever-springing love, which
overpowers and sweeps away the vexations of life by its own richness
and strength, and which above all things unites us to Him who is the
fountain and the centre of all mercy, lovingkindness, and joy.
[1] For Christmas Day.
[2] 2 Cor. iv. 6.
[3] Phil. ii. 6-7. 1 Pet. i. 8, 9.