The Lutheran Hour
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"What God Looks Like"
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Text: Luke 2:11
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Countless artists have painted countless pictures of what Jesus looked like. Nevertheless, every one of those pictures and paintings has been a guess. Using the words of the angel’s Christmas announcement, God’s message tells us what God looks like.
Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed! An unusual way to begin a Christmas message? Most certainly! But it is also a most appropriate way. For the story of the Savior, our salvation is incomplete if it is confined to the birth of a baby in Bethlehem. The earthly road of the Redeemer begins in Bethlehem but it continues on, taking believers to a cross on Calvary’s crest, into an empty Easter tomb, and, in the Lord’s time, into heaven, and eternity. Today, we invite you to gaze into a manger, and with wonder and awe at God’s grace see Good News of great Joy which is for you and all people.
Anytime a newborn child is brought home from the hospital, friends and family start to speculate, ‘Who does he (or she) look like?'” But 2,000 years ago, when a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed, there were no cameras to record the event of a baby’s birth. When Quirinius was governor of Syria, an imperial edict took the young family of a carpenter by the name of Joseph, and his virgin wife, a very pregnant Mary, away from family and friends. They journeyed to a little town called Bethlehem, about 80 miles away from their familiar Galilean home. When the Baby was born, it was in the only space available, a stable. His crib was a straw-stuffed manger. There were no friends called in to “oooh” and “aaah” or offer their opinions as to whom the Baby, God’s Son, our Savior, resembled. Without photograph or friend’s opinion, we can be forgiven if we wonder, “What does God look like?”
A well-schooled student of theology will give a deep reply. He will say, “God is a Spirit, endowed with mind and will without a body.” What does that mean? Well, we don’t exactly know. So the question remains, ‘What does God look like?’ Some years ago a pastor asked his four-year-old Sunday school students that question. “What does God look like?” One child said, “God is a human being with a heart and feet. He has eyes like fire and He shampoos His hair every day.” Another ventured, “God is tall. He looks like my daddy. He wears a jumpsuit on weekends and has a bald head.” Another, with a broad and detailed imagination said, with confidence, “I think God is an old man with a long, gray beard and He sits on a throne like the king of all mankind and He drinks all the Dr. Pepper He wants.” The last student whispered, “I think God looks like Jesus. But I’ll tell you a secret. I’m not sure, ’cause I’ve never seen Him.”
That child was more right than she knew. The truth is, none of us have seen God. That’s why it’s hard to say what He looks like. That’s why, among adult artists, there is great speculation and no consensus. Look at their renderings and you will see a Swedish Jesus, sporting blue eyes and blond hair. Others have shown Him black. Some have drawn him as an Indian, both Asian and American. But no matter how He’s shown, it’s always an artist’s guess. And the question remains, “What does God look like?”
Remember that question. We will come back to it in a moment. First, let me tell you a story. It begins on Christmas day years ago. A woman paid a holiday visit to the home of a friend. At that home was a little girl who had a most excellent doll collection. That collection had become, with the opening of Christmas gifts, considerably larger. Making adult conversation with the little lady, the friend asked, “Of all the dolls, which one of these is your favorite?” The little girl brought out a doll that was the most tattered and pathetic thing the woman had ever seen. The face was disfigured because of a broken nose. One china arm was cracked and the other was missing entirely. The woman didn’t laugh. But she did ask, “And why? Why do you love this one the most? You have so many pretty dolls.” To which the little girl could only confess, “I love this one the most because she needs it the most. If I didn’t love her, nobody would.”
That little girl, without knowing it, was echoing the words of the Christmas angels. Christmas is God loving us when nobody else would. Look to Satan and his damned demons. We are prizes to be condemned and claimed. To the world, we are nothing more than a statistic. To our governments, we are numbers that can be processed, polled and tallied. To businesses, we are consumers with wallets and purses that are in need of emptying. But to God, we are sinful souls, marked and marred by our many acts of disobedience. To God, we are also objects of pity; men and women who need His mercy and His gift of grace. God loved us when nobody else would. He tells us that in the words of the angels. They are clear words. Everyone can understand them. “For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” As they spoke, the angels tell us exactly, and in no uncertain terms, what God looks like. God looks like love.
Now, a lot of you listeners are lifting your eyebrows groaning and saying, “That’s not much help! Nobody knows what love looks like.” As a Pastor with almost 30 years of congregational experience, I want to tell you, love does have a look. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen love at weddings. I’m not talking about love between the bride and groom. If you look for love at a wedding, you won’t see its purest form by looking at the principles. If you want to see real love at a wedding, look at the grandmothers. Those grandmothers are not filled with infatuation. They are not harried like the fathers and mothers. The grandmothers are there with a small smile that never leaves their faces. They are remembering their wedding day many years ago and thinking of all the good and bad times that lie before their descendant children. They have experienced the lows and highs of life that the starry-eyed bride and groom cannot possibly anticipate. These grandmothers would share their memories of that day, but no one asks them, so all they do is love.
Yes, I’ve seen love. I’ve seen it in the smile of a father who watches his seven-year-old retarded daughter tie her shoes for the first time. I’ve seen love in the hand of an 83-year-old widow who was going to the nursing home. As she slowly shut the door of the house where she had lived in happy marriage for 51 years; as she caressed for the last time the familiar doorknob of the home where she raised four children, love was in that gesture. Yes, I’ve seen love in the face of a young adult who sheds a tear every time she takes Communion. Years ago, I saw love in the eyes of a mother when her son got off the plane, returning from a soldiers combat duty overseas. Yes, I’ve seen love. But human beings have a difficult time sustaining their love. It is there. It is gone. It is a bright light that quickly fades.
God’s love has no such limitations. Do you wish to know what God looks like? God looks like love. Hear the words of the angels: “Unto you is born this day a Savior, Christ the Lord.” God looks like love. His is a love that reaches out over the centuries. When Adam and Eve broke the one rule God had given them, God was love. Rather than allowing them to be doomed and damned in hell, He gave them a promise that a Savior would come and take their place. When the children of Israel, having seen repeated miracles, having been delivered in spectacular ways, deserted God and danced around a golden calf, God was furious, but God was still love. God has consistently, constantly, continuously loved His people–all people, in every generation, in every age. God has loved people through every sin, past every slight, in spite of every wrongdoing. God loved without letup or hindrance. Do you want to know what God looks like? Then look into the Christmas manger and see–see that “God is love.”
The strong shepherds situated on the hills surrounding the place of the Savior’s birth needed to know that God looks like, and is, Love. These men who watched over their flocks by night lived in a world destroyed by sin, dominated by slavery and damned by Satan. They decided to go and see this thing which had come to pass, that the Lord had told them about. No great debate. No long discussion. They needed Him who had come. They needed God’s love.
Anticipating the shepherds’ anxious need, the angels gave them directions: “You will find God’s love wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.” A stable and a manger are unlikely spots to find any kind of love, but so great was the need of the shepherds, they went. And when they looked into the stone cattle trough, they found things exactly as the angels had said. In the manger, there was an Infant wrapped in swaddling clothes. But the shepherds saw more than an Infant. They saw God’s love–that love which had been promised to Adam and Eve; love which had been offered to their ancient ancestor Abraham; love sent to save our souls from sin, to deliver us from damnation and grant us God’s grace that gives eternal life. God’s love; the world’s Savior. That’s what the shepherds saw. Later, when the wise men came from the East, they looked, too. Entering the house where the Infant was staying, they looked and saw God’s love. When Jesus was presented in the temple by His parents, when aged Anna and spiritual Simeon saw Jesus, they knew what God looked like. God looked like love.
Others, in the years that followed, would also see God’s love. The demoniac and the diseased, the lame and the leper, the hurting and the hungry would see God’s love when they were touched by Jesus’ healing hand. The mourning mother of Nain, the sad sisters of Lazarus, the frantic father, Jairus, would see God’s love, as their dead were restored to life. The lost and the lonely, the depressed and the despondent, sufferers and sinners alike would see God’s love in the compassion and care of Jesus. Having seen God’s love nailed to a cross, a crucified criminal would confess his transgressions and his faith. Women, who in grief, went to Jesus’ grave, would see God’s living love in a resurrected Lord. Fearful friends, hiding in a locked room, would see God’s love. A doubting disciple would have the opportunity to touch Jesus’ wounds. In wonder and witness, he would, having seen God’s love, proclaim “My Lord and my God.” Over the centuries, martyred men and women have seen God’s love and with their dying breath have given thanks for God’s Good News of great joy that had called them from darkness into light; from damnation into divine deliverance.
Let me ask this Christmas if you have seen what God looks like. Have you seen His love? This past year, has pain been a constant companion? Have your friends proven to be faithless? Has your home been marked and marred by squabbles and sadness? Does lasting loneliness seem to stay at your side and a deep darkness surround you? Have you found nothing on which you can rely; nothing in which you can believe; nothing onto which you can hold? Then, the angel’s message is for you. Come–come see this thing which has come to pass. Look in the cradle and up at the cross and see what God looks like. He looks like love. See how the Savior has come for you. Do not let this Christmas day dawn and dim without joining the shepherds and worshipping God’s love in the stable. Know that life has taught us that some of you listening to my voice this Christmas time, will not be in this world before another day dawns. Come, now and see God’s Love. See what it looks like.
For those of you who once saw the Savior; who long ago counted Him as a friend, but now have forgotten; know that He has not forgotten you. For those whose Christmas celebrations are going to be marked by lights on your house, but not the Light of the world in your heart; for those whose Christmas Day will be spent in front of a television watching Christmas classics, but who haven’t beheld the Christmas Christ, now is the day to see this thing which has come to pass. If you don’t have Christ in your heart, you won’t find Him under your tree.
And to those of you who are counted as Christians, with my thanksgiving that Christ rules in your heart, I also extend the warning, which says being a life-long member of the church gives no immunity from Satan’s temptations directed specifically against you at Christmas. Family fights and jealous hearts can be delivered to a Christian home at Christmas. Mixed priorities can substitute cards for Christ; obligations for adoration; earthly tinsel for heavenly treasure; earthly presents can replace the Christ Child’s presence.
Years ago, one of my parishioners went Christmas shopping with her daughter. At first she thought she was talking to herself, but soon realized her thoughts were quietly being vocalized, and her 10-year-old had been listening. Recording that day, so she wouldn’t forget, this is what she wrote. “I can’t believe I waited til now to go shopping. I’ll never find a parking place. If I do, I won’t have enough energy to sustain me for the 10 mile walk to the mall. Look at that lady with her shopping cart. Hasn’t anyone explained to her the rules of the road? You don’t park your cart in the middle of the aisle. I’ll just have to move it. Hey, lady, don’t give me a dirty look. I can’t help it if you don’t know how to drive your cart.
“Who’s left on the list? Great Aunt Lydia. She always gives us a present. And it’s always such a bad present I can’t even rewrap it and give it to someone else. She recycles her Christmas paper, too. Good old Aunt Lydia. Born December 23rd. Well, what will I get the lady who was so inconsiderate as to be born at Christmas? Who gets born at Christmas?” That’s when the little girl, who, as I say, was listening, said, “I know who else was born at Christmas, Mommy.” And so did the mother. And they stopped. They remembered, “Good News of great joy.” In that store they saw what God looked like. He looked like the love of God that comes to us in the midst of our mess.
What does God look like? This Christmas, “Come and see.” Come and see the Babe of Bethlehem, the Christ of the cross. Come and see the Savior whose blood washes sin; whose love saves us from hell. What does God look like? Come and see. He looks like the Savior who loved us when no one else would. What does God look like? He looks like the Savior who was born in Bethlehem, was wrapped in swaddling clothes, and laid in a manger. ” What does God look like? Come and see. Amen.
Note to print subscribers: In place of this week’s “Mailbox” section, the broadcast features Christmas music by Kammerchor from Concordia University-Wisconsin.
From everyone here at Lutheran Hour Ministries, may God grant you and your loved ones a blessed Christmas!