And they were overjoyed

They appeared to the shepherds in the field that night, those angels. The Glory of the Lord shone around them and they were terrified. A righteous terror accompanies seeing the face of God. And surely the proclamation of the birth of Christ was seeing the face of God. Emmanuel, God with us.

Moses' face shone for days after seeing the face of God on that mountain. The shepherds were terrified. I wonder at the face of Mary when she saw the face of her son—the face of God. I wonder what Joseph did. That perfect, precious baby, head laid in hay: such humility. The God of the Universe sleeping in a manger. Perhaps righteous terror accompanied the parents on that day—moved to tears by a little baby who slept and breathed and was holiness.

That day was the realization of salvation—the birth of the life-giver. John Piper says it best: “Christmas cut history into two ages: the age of promise and the age of fulfillment.” Surely the birth of Christ realizedthe promise of a Savior—the promise of God-come-down. What mercy, grace, and joy is ours.

And then those magi. Those wise-men, astrologers. They saw the star in the east and decided they must follow. Perhaps righteous terror leads to feet that move and follow and trust. Perhaps righteous terror leads to faith.

It was prophesied, “But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for out of you will come a ruler who will be the shepherd of my people Israel.” {Micah 5:2}

And that star, it was prophesied about too. “A star will come out of Jacob; a scepter will rise out of Israel.” {Numbers 24:17}

The birth of Christ moved us from the age of promise to the age of fulfillment.

Balaam prophesied about that star, and look how he describes himself: “one whose eye sees clearly, the oracle of one who hears the words of God, who has knowledge from the Most High, who sees a vision from the Almighty, who falls prostrate, and whose eyes are opened.”

Surely seeing the face of God is accompanied by righteous, prostrate fallen, on-the-knees, face-to-the-ground, kissing the feet, terror. Surely that terror leads to faith that moves feet, and faith that moves mountains.

Maybe feet are the first biggest mountain that faith moves.

The Magi “went on their way, and the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was.”

It stopped at that manger-site. It stopped where humility met glory. It stopped at the face of God—the realization of salvation.It stopped at a little baby boy, head in hay, cribmates with a goat and a calf. It stopped at a barn with a new mama knelt at the feet of her baby son.

It stopped at a barn with a man and a woman knelt at the feet of their God.

The star went ahead of them until it stopped at the Christ. It wasn't a day-trip organized with step-by-step instructions. It was a long journey to see the face of God, led by one star saying, stay the course. He has come. Come and see.

His star went before them. I'm reminded of the Israelites in the desert, led by a pillar of fire by night and cloud by day. He led them to the Promised Land, just as that star led the Magi to the Promised One.

“In all the travels of the Israelites, whenever the cloud lifted from above the tabernacle, they would set out; but if the cloud did not lift, they did not set out—until the day it lifted. So the cloud of the Lord was over the tabernacle by day, and fire was in the cloud by night, in the sight of all the house of Israel during all their travels.” {Exodus 40:36-38}

They carried the tabernacle through the desert with them—the presence of God; it was the age of promise. The Glory of the Lord would fill the tabernacle as the cloud settled upon it. The presence of God was referred to as Shekinah—the dwelling, physical manifestation of the presence of God. The Israelites carried that tabernacle around and it was filled with the Glory of God—the Shekinah Glory.

And then those magi and those shepherds and that mama in the barn saw the fulfillment of Shekinah Glory—the tangible, physical, dwelling presence of God. The Incarnate Word—the Word-became-Flesh. A baby in a manger—Emmanuel, God with us.

So many parallels between those Israelites following the Lord's Glory cloud and those Magi following the Lord's Glory star. Shekinah Glory, God with us.

But what joy on that day to not have the star itself be the only realization of His Glory, but rather Shekinah Himself laying in that manger, living and breathing and sleeping and being holiness.

Being Glory.

Christ's birth carried us from the age of promise into the age of fulfillment.

“When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. They opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold and of incense and of myrrh.”

Seeing the face of God is accompanied with righteous terror that moves hearts and souls from the age of promise to fulfillment. The magi couldn't help but fall prostrate, bowed down at the feet of God and worship. Shekinah Glory filled that barn, and filled the hearts of those men laid down flat at the feet of a baby. They gifted Him with all their most precious.

Shekinah Glory—the Face of God—moves hearts to bow down and open up and give until it hurts.

Because that's what Shekinah Glory looks like. It looks like the God of the Universe bowing down flat, humbling himself to a small baby in a manger who would later be murdered at the hand of brutal men he came to save. It looks like the God of the Universe opening himself up and loving and serving and allowing Himself to be vulnerable and open and free to all of mankind. He became flesh—the Incarnate Word. Shekinah Glory looks like Jesus Christ giving His Life in service to God, loving the least of these—giving until it hurt so bad that nails were driven through hands and thorns driven through His head and whips driven through skin and boulders driven into graves that sealed in death.

But then Shekinah Glory dwells and manifests itself as Lord, and the baby in a manger is seated at the Throne of God, and the man on the cross put in the grave is raised to life, and the one crucified at the hands of men is worshiped and praised, and men bow down because they have seen the Lord and they were overjoyed.

Shekinah Glory dwells in us, and we too, are lifted to new life in Him who took on our sin, our shame, our death, and gave us His life instead. Shekinah Glory—the presence of God—came to be known by men. He came and dwelt and lived among us, that we may know the Glory of God.

And the only response to knowing the Shekinah Glory—the only response to seeing the Face of God, is righteous, prostrate fallen, worship at the feet of Jesus Christ.

Shekinah Glory has come. Emmanuel, God with us.

The Miracle of Obedience

You say 'Rejoice always,' just as You told the paralyzed beggar to 'Get up. Pick up your mat and walk.' It's ironic—those commands; given to ones who absolutely, obviously, and almost comically do not have the strength to obey. And yet Your words brought the crippled one to his feet and they bring joy to my crippled heart—the one that, on its own, doesn't love, only hates; doesn't give, only steals; doesn't beat, only flatlines; the one that doesn't live, but is dying.

But those words “rejoice always” beckon forth blood which pumps and travels and fills, and it courses through this old, paralyzed beggar of a heart and causes it to beat with joy and love and peace.

Ya know, maybe obedience itself is a miracle. You tell the beggar to walk—his walk of obedience is miraculous. You called Lazarus, a dead man for 4 days, to come out of the grave and live, and He did. You told the blind man to see, and His eyes were opened. You told the deaf man's ears to be opened, and they were; His tongue was loosed in praise.

You pick the least likely, don't You?

     the paralyzed to walk

     the blind to see

     the deaf to hear

     the mute to speak

     the sick to be healed

     the fatherless to be a father or mother

     the depressed to rejoice

     the addict to release

     the prostitute to be faithful

     the criminal to be freed

     the last to be first

     the low to be raised up

     the dead to live

     a baby to save all

     A Lamb to defeat death.

I see myself in all of them—the poor beggar, the blind, the deaf, and the mute. My eyes, ears, and heart, too, are in desperate need of a miracle. I am in desperate need of Your word commands.

But maybe none of this is by ourselves and our own strength. Maybe all our hearts are old crippled beggars stuck on the dirty ground-mat that can only rise at His words “get up and walk.” Maybe joy is only a miraculous act of obedience to His words “rejoice always.”

And maybe His commands aren't constricting, but liberating. Maybe they are an invitation to experience the Divine supernatural at work in our own minds, hearts, souls, and bodies.

Maybe it all comes down to this promise from Ezekiel 36:26

“I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart.”

A responsive heart. Your words are the invitation to obedience; the invitation to the miracle. You asked the paralytic on his mat “Do you want to get well?” This question preceded the miracle. It preceded his walking and his healing and his rejoicing. Maybe that's the first step: to want to be well. Maybe that's just another way to say repentance. To want to see the Lord. To want to rejoice. To crave His goodness. And just as a good Father does, He gives to His children what good they want. The paralytic wanted to be well, he was commanded to be well, and he was well.

I look throughout the Bible and see so many healings and miracles, and I get so caught up in the excitement of the healing moment that I miss the healing process. The miracles start with a humble walk to the feet of the Healer: an admission of sickness and need--repentance. The miracle begins with a desire to be well, and a surrender to be made well. And then His commands are answered in miraculous obedience from His strength, not ours. The crippled walk, the blind see, the deaf hear, the dead live, and we are freed. We are redeemed.

“You came near when I called you, and you said 'Do not fear.' O Lord, you took up my case; you redeemed my life.” {Lamentations 3:57-58}

“Jesus answered, 'I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.'” {John 14:6}