He Came

I wouldn’t have been there. Would you? I’ve been reading some Christmas sermons by Martin Luther. He says a surprising thing over and over again: “I wouldn’t have been there. I wouldn’t have been at the manger.” It’s hit home for me to hear his honest confession. We read about no room at the inn for Mary and Joseph and Jesus, and we say, “Shame on them!” But I wouldn’t have let them in my house either.

We hear about the people of Bethlehem being too preoccupied to give any notice to a baby born in a stable. But I wouldn’t have paid any attention either. I fill my life with too many other things.

We blame King Herod for not welcoming his newborn King. I don’t either. There’s already a king on the throne of my heart. I don’t want Jesus to unseat me. Do you? Luther’s right. I wouldn’t have been there.

But Jesus was. He knew it all. He knew there’d be no room. He knew people had far too many important things to do than pay attention to him. He knew he’d be rejected and killed. But he still came. Not because we’re so willing, but precisely because we’re unwilling. Not because we’re so good, but precisely because we’re so sinful. That’s the power of God’s grace—his undeserved love for you and me.

“He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God” (John 1:14). I wouldn’t have been there. But Jesus came. To save me. To change me. To make me God’s child. He came!

Merry Christmas! May God bless you as you celebrate Jesus who came to save us.