Let’s talk about sacrifice. The sacrifices that each of us makes each day in order to create something for ourselves. Sacrificial time comes to my mind. Time spent in the car for instance, driving to work or taking the kids to school. This is time and ultimately endeavors that I willingly give up in order to create something else. That something else in this instance is “for the greater good” within my own mind.
We make sacrifices all day within every moment. We are not omnipotent. Something has to give.
God never has to make sacrifices. All through the Old Testament, he’s more than sufficient for his people. But, they simply fail to follow him. Time and time again, they turn away.
So, he does something radical. Something we can relate to. Something sacrificial.
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In the gospel of John, it’s apparent that Jesus was with God the Father “in the beginning”. I often wonder what form he took, but nonetheless, the Bible says that he was there. And we understand enough about God to know that he knew what was going to come of his Son down the road. Perhaps a portion of himself hoped that the future wouldn’t come to pass. That there would be no need to reveal his Son to humanity, though this is inconsistent with prophecy within scripture.
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When I was a child, my pastor loved to give illustrations to drive a point home. Sometimes they were poetic and humorous, other times poignant and sad. This one I owe to him. It definitely falls into the latter camp.
One cold, winter’s eve, the snow had started falling heavier and heavier. The sky was gray as the end of the day approached. An old man watched the icy scene from the warmth of his spacious home as a fire burned in the corner of the room.
Hearing a unsettling noise, he moved closer to the sliding glass door to investigate.
Birds were frantically trying to fly through the glazing and into his home. This happened repeatedly. The man’s heart went out. So, he opened the door making it possible for them to come inside.
The creatures seemed to respond in confusion as they circled the yard desperately.
The man fled into the storm through the opening. He trampled through the snow in his slippers and robe towards his massive barn after sliding the door to his home tightly shut. When he reached the sturdy structure, he threw the wooden doors open wide, turned on a few simple lamps within and waited.
The snowfall was quickening. It was beginning to accumulate in clumps onto the barn’s well swept wooden floor.
The man walked back towards the house. Remarkably, the birds were again dive bombing into the same fenestration only to find themselves repeatedly knocked to the ground by the impenetrable surface. Flustered at the animals’ stupidity, the old man came close to giving up.
Finally, he bolted towards the flock, yelling and waving his arms frantically. This only served to frighten the desperate creatures.
The man fell to his knees in frustration. The snowstorm’s vengeance was picking up speed. He pulled his robe around his torso tightly and tried to force himself to think. Then he realized what was occurring.
The birds were seeing their own reflections in the glass superimposed on top of the warm setting within. It was as if another bird was ushering them inside.
If only the man could change himself into a bird, he thought to himself. Then he could lead them to the shelter he’d prepared for them and they would be safe and warm during the storm.
But alas…
It was at this moment that the church bells began to chime from within the city. He was instantly reminded that it was Christmas Eve. Undoubtedly, worshippers were beginning to gather to celebrate the birth of the Christ child.
At this point, he could only weep as he began to come to grips with his own humanity and his inherent need for a Savior.
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If God’s chosen people failed to follow Him in the Old Testament, why introduce the gospel?
