“Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage” (Matt. 2:2).
The wise men came a long way, guided by a star: a star that revealed the glory of the Lord. Glory is a theme of both Christmas and Epiphany, glory that is manifest in the twelve days that culminate with the celebration of the three kings. “Glory” is defined as beauty or splendor, and it’s glory that brings the wise men to pay homage to the king of the Jews. Glory reflected in the star at its rising; glory reflected in the face of the child.
Glory was the outstanding attribute of the God of Israel, the thing you noticed first. Human beings, even his chosen People, did not approach him lightly, because his glory was a bit overwhelming. The glory of the Lord was not something to be admired or gazed on but instead was supposed to be honored and deferred to, as in “giving glory to the Lord”. Normal folk were not supposed to look directly at YHWH. When Moses, God’s friend, spoke with him, God’s beauty and splendor were such that Moses’ face afterward retained the brightness of the original impression. Moses had to wear a veil, so that others wouldn’t be blinded, but his glory was simply a reflection of YHWH’s own glory. The “glory of the Lord” was God’s shekinah, which always accompanied his presence. Remember the story of the shepherds from Luke’s Gospel, “Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified” (Lk. 2:9). The glory of the Lord was something you didn’t mess around with.
It’s this outstanding attribute of God, the “glory of the Lord”, that is manifested in Jesus Christ. But there is something more here in the story of the Lord’s birth than the experience of ancient Israel might indicate. Jesus Christ manifests his glory in a way that does not demand that we avert our eyes or veil our faces. Suddenly, the glory of the Lord is accessible in a new way.
Remember the words of the hymn, “Mild he lays his glory by, born that man no more may die”? I’m indebted to Bob Dylan’s recording of Christmas songs that someone gave me this year, because his raspy voice let me hear the hymn with new ears and notice something I’d forgotten all about. “Mild” is one of those words that means something different than it used to; a word in fact that’s hardly used any more, except in reference a “the mild-mannered” person or to a low-grade hot sauce. “Mild” is sometimes paired with “meek”, a word which rhymes with “weak”, and what’s indicated is something that doesn’t impress or grab you, something neither intense or strong. But in terms of the hymn, or in terms of the theology of Christmas, “mild” is kind and considerate, a usage that’s now a bit obsolete, but important to remember in connection with this feast.
That’s Jesus Christ, not “mild mannered” or “meek” in a conventional sense, but instead something else: One who considers our condition and extends himself for us, like a good host who is mindful of our needs. The glory that is his is put aside for the moment so that we don’t need to stand on ceremony. God is graceful in making himself available to us as a human being, as one of us. We, like the kings, give him homage, bringing gifts that pay tribute to him; but God is revealing himself in some humble circumstances that are accessible to us in a way that would have surprised folks in Moses’ day. We see his glory face to face.
It’s this glory that shines through in the story of the Lord’s birth. Beauty and splendor are lavished upon us in Jesus Christ, not so we can stand around gawking, but so we can be transformed. God became human so that we might be become one with God; as our Collect says, “Grant that we may share the divine life of him who humbled himself to share our humanity”. How are we sharing God’s life in our own lives, and how are we going to share it with others? We’re meant to shine with the glory of the Lord, and to make known his glory, here in our own community and to the ends of the earth.
- The Rt Rev’d John Bauerschmidt, Bishop of Tennessee