Christmas Day

“BECAME FLESH”

 Christmas Day

Thursday December 25, 2025

Trinity - Creston

       Grace, mercy, and peace is yours from God our Father and from our crucified and risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ!

       Our text for this Christmas Day is from John 1.

Let Us Pray:  Dearest Jesus, send your Holy Spirit to remind us that you became one of your creation to bring us who had no hope the ultimate hope and peace that only you can bring.  Amen.

Dear Fellow Redeemed in Christ:

They say great things come in small packages. Cliché though that is, never has it been truer than of the Christ Child. So small, yet look at this Child and you see him “in [whom] the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily,” as Paul puts it (Col 2:9). Or as we heard John proclaim this Christmas morning,

“The Word Became Flesh and Dwelt Among Us,
and We Have Seen His Glory.”

I.

Now, like Mark, John leaves the telling of the nativity story—Joseph and Mary’s journey to Bethlehem, their humble lodgings, the angels appearing to shepherds, the visit of the Magi and Herod’s devious plots—to Matthew and Luke.

John cuts right to the chase of what this first advent, this first coming of Christ in the flesh, is and means. As we heard: “And the Word became flesh and dwelt,” tabernacled, “among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (v 14).

The Second Person of the Holy Trinity, the one eternal, indivisible God, great beyond measure, has in Christ made himself small, infant-small—and before that embryo-small—and wrapped himself in swaddling cloths—all to give himself for us and to us that we might receive him.

All to offer himself once for all, for us, to atone for us, to set us right with God. All to bring the Glory, the Divine Presence, to us. “Veiled in flesh the Godhead see, Hail the incarnate Deity! Pleased as Man with man to dwell, Jesus, our Immanuel!” (LSB 380:2). Our “God with us.”

Of course, throughout Israel’s and Judah’s history, God had been “tabernacling” among his people in the tabernacle, the tent of meeting, and then its more permanent replacement, the temple.

That was a remarkable thing—that the holy God should dwell among unclean people to cleanse them and dwell among them. And Solomon knew just how remarkable; after building the temple at God’s command, Solomon asked, “But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Behold, heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you; how much less this house that I have built!” (1 Ki 8:27).

Yet there, at that temple, God assured his people of his glory; his holy presence. There he was present for them. There he atoned for their sins. There he shared his holiness with them that they might be the holy people he called them to be. But Solomon was right. Neither his temple nor heaven and earth itself could contain God.

Yet now! Here in the flesh and blood of Christ, the Word, the Son of God, dwells among us! A new temple made not of stone or wood, or of fabric like the tabernacle. No, those were just a shadow of what was to come!

Now the fullness of the deity dwells bodily in the flesh of Christ. Now the Word became flesh in Christ. Moses’ tabernacle or Solomon’s temple could never make that claim. God did not become them but inhabited them.

Yet now, the Word has not simply inhabited the flesh of Jesus, like a tent or a vehicle you step into and then step out of. The Word has become flesh in this mysterious union of true God and true man we call the incarnation! A mystery to be rejoiced in, confessed, adored, sung, as we do this day! For look at the flesh of Jesus, and you see the glory of God, full of grace and truth!

II.

We’ll return to that later. But for now, consider how scandalous this sounds to all natural, human ways of thinking and all so-called “logic”: God a baby! God made something so feeble and small, so unenduring as flesh and blood—infant flesh and blood!

Even Solomon’s temple lasted some four centuries before the Babylonians destroyed it. And the second temple, renovated to such magnificence by Herod that it was the renown of the ancient world, lasted almost six centuries before the Romans destroyed it.

It looks to all the world like God has exchanged a more permanent, more lasting home for a more fragile one, doesn’t it? So when the Son of God came in the weakness of our human flesh—when he was born of his virgin mother and became man—did God accept a “downgrade” in his lodgings?

Well, yes—and no.

First, yes. We live in a world that’s forced to admit nothing these earthly eyes see around us can last—nothing, it seems, except the ongoing cycle of death, as generation succeeds generation.

And Moses says as much about fragile flesh and blood when he says to God in Psalm 90, “You return man to dust and say, ‘Return, O children of man!’ . . . [We are] like grass that is renewed in the morning: in the morning it flourishes and is renewed; in the evening it fades and withers” (Ps 90:3, 5b–6).

And then he says why: “For we are brought to an end by your anger; by your wrath we are dismayed. You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence” (90:7–8).

The sentence of death lies heavy on our fallen human race, observes Moses, as generations come and go, for we are by nature estranged from God by our sin and uncleanness, corrupted to the core of our being ever since the fall.

But then the sinless Son of God himself became man.

The Word became flesh—weak, disease-prone, mortal flesh and blood that, some thirty years later, hung lifeless on a cross. The Word became flesh so that he might bear our griefs, carry our sorrows and diseases, and be crushed under the weight of our guilt.

The sinless dying for the sinful. The Holy One for the unclean. God the Son bearing the full, divine wrath against your sin and mine, so that we may never face it for ourselves!

The Word made flesh went “the way of all the earth” (1 Ki 2:2); he became withered grass for us. So, yes. God downgraded his “lodgings”—he degraded himself—for you, for me.

But also, no.

For three days later, that same flesh-and-blood Jesus rose to life—indestructible, immortal, divine, eternal life. Heaven and earth will pass away, but not this flesh and blood, this Word made flesh for you! Even Solomon’s temple and Herod’s after it were destroyed. But not this temple! Not the resurrected, glorified, incarnate flesh-and-blood Christ. “Destroy this temple,” said Jesus of his own body, “and in three days I will raise it up” (Jn 2:19).

And so, as usual, God turns upside down the way we usually think about what is permanent and enduring, and what isn’t. More lasting than the strongest stone, outlasting even the cycle of death—there in the flesh of Jesus you see the true, enduring, permanent, indestructible sanctuary of God, “the habitation of [God’s] house and the place where [his] glory dwells” (Ps 26:8)!

III.

There, in the Word made flesh, says John, “we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

Peter, James, and John caught a glimpse of that glory on the Mount of Transfiguration. Perhaps you remember the scene: Jesus’ appearance changed; his clothes became dazzlingly white and his face shone like lightning. Moses and Elijah appeared with Jesus. And in that moment, Peter pipes up and, not knowing what he is saying, suggests the disciples build three tents—one for Moses, one for Elijah, and, of course, one for you, Jesus.

But, Peter! There’s no going back to pitched tabernacles now! The radiant divinity shining from Jesus’ clothing and face has already tabernacled among us in the very person of Jesus Christ.

And so, when the blinding light fades, whose face, alone, should Peter, James, and John see? Simply the face of Jesus—the Glory of God, veiled not by curtains but in the flesh of Jesus. Of him the Father said from heaven, “This is my beloved Son; listen to him” (Mk 9:7)!

And that Glory would go down into dark places—to places of suffering and pain and death, even to the cross. For where goes the flesh-and-blood man Jesus Christ, there goes the Glory, the Presence of God!

Yet how common to mankind is the temptation to look elsewhere for access to God. To, like Peter, contain the Glory of God in ways of our own making, and without God’s command.

Whether we desire to bottle up those “spiritual highs” or “mountaintop experiences” when things are going well (as we would measure it) and we feel more assured that God is with us. Or simply that we want God on our own terms. The Father points us to Jesus: “This is my Son; listen to him!”

Or, on the other hand, when we’re going through valleys, when life’s a grind and not glorious (as we would measure it), or when we’re suffering and our own flesh shows telltale signs of returning to dust, or we’re in lonely places, anguished in heart or mind, or feeling lost in darkness of soul or conscience, when the light has faded and when we may be thinking,

 “The glory and presence of God must be somewhere else. Not here! Not where I am!”—then look to Jesus! For where goes the flesh-and-blood man Jesus Christ, there goes the Glory, there goes the Presence of God! For in the flesh of Jesus is “God with us”—the Glory and Presence of the Almighty—even and especially when the light fades. Even in the darkness of Gethsemane or the cross—even there—we see “God with us,” the glory veiled in the flesh of Jesus!

People of God, the glory dwells with you in our incarnate Lord. The veiled “glory . . . full of grace and truth” comes to you and me still as the Word made flesh tabernacles among us—eternal, indestructible.

He it was who baptized you, incorporated you into his holy Body, the church. He has given you his own resurrection life—indestructible, immortal, eternal, divine life—so that in your flesh you shall see God (cf Job 19:26).

For the valleys are not forever. Nor will Christ’s glory always be hidden. But we await his appearing again, still in the flesh, when his glory will be plain to all and every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, God in the flesh!

And now? Now the glory is here, veiled, hidden, in the flesh of our very present Jesus, just as he promised. It’s his voice we heard forgiving our sins moments ago. He is the sum and substance of the God-breathed Scriptures we just heard read. And shortly, he will again come to you in his flesh and blood, according to his promise: “This is my body. This is my blood!” Here our flesh-and-blood Lord Jesus brings with himself the outstretched arm and right hand of God the Father to forgive, restore, and receive his children: you.

So rejoice! Confess, praise, sing joyfully that he, the Word made flesh, is born of his virgin mother and wears swaddling cloths to become infant-small for us—wafer-small, sip-of-the-cup-small—all to give himself to us and dwell with us, having given himself for us. Amen.

Amen.

The Peace of God which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord and Savior.  Amen.