The Light That Came: Remembering the Meaning of Christmas
The Light That Came: Remembering the Meaning of Christmas
As we gather in the glow of candlelight during this sacred season, we're reminded of a profound truth: the waiting is over. The Savior has come. The four candles of Advent—hope, peace, joy, and love—have prepared our hearts, and now the white Christ candle proclaims that Jesus Christ is the true light of the world.
Isaiah prophesied it centuries before: "The people walking in darkness have seen a great light. On those living in the land of deep darkness, a light has dawned" (Isaiah 9:2). This wasn't just poetic language; it was a promise. And in a humble stable in Bethlehem, that promise became flesh.
Born to Die
There's something beautifully paradoxical about Christmas. We celebrate a birth, yet this birth was unlike any other. Jesus wasn't born merely to live—He was born to die. The infant wrapped in swaddling clothes would one day have His body broken and His blood shed for the redemption of humanity.
When we come to remember Christ's sacrifice, particularly through the Lord's Supper, we're proclaiming three essential truths about His death that should transform how we understand Christmas.
His Death Was a Substitution
Scripture makes this abundantly clear: "He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed" (Isaiah 53:5-6). Notice the language—for our transgressions, for our iniquities. This is substitution at its core.
Romans 5:8 echoes this truth: "But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Not because of us, but for us—in our place.
Jesus took the penalty we deserved. When He hung on that cross, He wasn't dying for His own sins—He had none. He was dying for yours. For mine. For your spouse's. For your children's. This is substitutionary atonement: Jesus endured the penalty of sin so we could be reconciled to God.
The baby born in Bethlehem came into this world with a mission—to be our substitute.
His Death Was a Sacrifice
Crucially, Jesus wasn't murdered. He wasn't overpowered or forced. He wasn't even a martyr dying for a cause. He was a willing sacrifice.
Ephesians 5:2 tells us that Christ "gave Himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God." John 10:17-18 records Jesus' own words: "No one takes [my life] from Me, but I lay it down of Myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again."
Think about that. The soldiers didn't take His life. Pilate didn't take His life. The religious leaders didn't take His life. Jesus willingly gave it.
"Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends" (John 15:13). That's how much you're valued. That's how much you matter. If you've ever struggled with feeling worthless or without purpose, let this truth wash over you: Jesus thought you were worth dying for.
The Christ child came as a willing sacrifice.
His Death Was a Satisfaction
This might be the most wonderful truth of all. The death of Jesus absorbed the full measure of God's righteous anger against sin. It satisfied God's judgment completely.
Romans 3:25 speaks of Jesus as a "propitiation"—a word that means satisfaction. When the Father saw the death of His Son, He said, "I am satisfied." The debt is paid. The judgment is complete. You don't have to pay for your sin because Jesus already did.
First John 4:10 puts it beautifully: "In this is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins."
Free. Forgiven. Justified. Not because we earned it, but because Jesus satisfied the requirements of a holy God.
Coming to the Table
When we gather to remember Christ's death through communion, we're showing forth these truths to one another and to the world. We're declaring that Jesus is our substitute, our sacrifice, our satisfaction.
But this sacred moment requires something of us. We must come with humble, prepared hearts. This doesn't mean perfection—if we had to be perfect, none of us could partake. The blood of Jesus has made us righteous. But we should come with honesty.
David's prayer is appropriate: "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my anxieties; and see if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (Psalm 139:23-24).
If there's known, unconfessed sin—intentional rebellion against God's Word—we should pause and make it right. The beautiful truth is that it doesn't take elaborate confession or lengthy penance. First John 1:9 promises: "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."
Immediate. Complete. Total cleansing.
Until He Comes
As often as we remember Christ's death, we proclaim it "till He comes" (1 Corinthians 11:26). The church will continue this sacred remembrance until Jesus returns.
The baby born in Bethlehem came once as a sacrifice. He's coming again as King.
So as we light our candles and sing of silent nights and holy nights, let's remember the full story. The light that entered the world on Christmas came to dispel the darkness of sin and death. That light still shines today, and the darkness has not overcome it.
Jesus Christ—our hope, our peace, our joy, our love—has come. And one day, He will come again.
Until then, we remember. We proclaim. We worship the One who was born to die so that we might live.
Isaiah prophesied it centuries before: "The people walking in darkness have seen a great light. On those living in the land of deep darkness, a light has dawned" (Isaiah 9:2). This wasn't just poetic language; it was a promise. And in a humble stable in Bethlehem, that promise became flesh.
Born to Die
There's something beautifully paradoxical about Christmas. We celebrate a birth, yet this birth was unlike any other. Jesus wasn't born merely to live—He was born to die. The infant wrapped in swaddling clothes would one day have His body broken and His blood shed for the redemption of humanity.
When we come to remember Christ's sacrifice, particularly through the Lord's Supper, we're proclaiming three essential truths about His death that should transform how we understand Christmas.
His Death Was a Substitution
Scripture makes this abundantly clear: "He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed" (Isaiah 53:5-6). Notice the language—for our transgressions, for our iniquities. This is substitution at its core.
Romans 5:8 echoes this truth: "But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Not because of us, but for us—in our place.
Jesus took the penalty we deserved. When He hung on that cross, He wasn't dying for His own sins—He had none. He was dying for yours. For mine. For your spouse's. For your children's. This is substitutionary atonement: Jesus endured the penalty of sin so we could be reconciled to God.
The baby born in Bethlehem came into this world with a mission—to be our substitute.
His Death Was a Sacrifice
Crucially, Jesus wasn't murdered. He wasn't overpowered or forced. He wasn't even a martyr dying for a cause. He was a willing sacrifice.
Ephesians 5:2 tells us that Christ "gave Himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God." John 10:17-18 records Jesus' own words: "No one takes [my life] from Me, but I lay it down of Myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again."
Think about that. The soldiers didn't take His life. Pilate didn't take His life. The religious leaders didn't take His life. Jesus willingly gave it.
"Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends" (John 15:13). That's how much you're valued. That's how much you matter. If you've ever struggled with feeling worthless or without purpose, let this truth wash over you: Jesus thought you were worth dying for.
The Christ child came as a willing sacrifice.
His Death Was a Satisfaction
This might be the most wonderful truth of all. The death of Jesus absorbed the full measure of God's righteous anger against sin. It satisfied God's judgment completely.
Romans 3:25 speaks of Jesus as a "propitiation"—a word that means satisfaction. When the Father saw the death of His Son, He said, "I am satisfied." The debt is paid. The judgment is complete. You don't have to pay for your sin because Jesus already did.
First John 4:10 puts it beautifully: "In this is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins."
Free. Forgiven. Justified. Not because we earned it, but because Jesus satisfied the requirements of a holy God.
Coming to the Table
When we gather to remember Christ's death through communion, we're showing forth these truths to one another and to the world. We're declaring that Jesus is our substitute, our sacrifice, our satisfaction.
But this sacred moment requires something of us. We must come with humble, prepared hearts. This doesn't mean perfection—if we had to be perfect, none of us could partake. The blood of Jesus has made us righteous. But we should come with honesty.
David's prayer is appropriate: "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my anxieties; and see if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (Psalm 139:23-24).
If there's known, unconfessed sin—intentional rebellion against God's Word—we should pause and make it right. The beautiful truth is that it doesn't take elaborate confession or lengthy penance. First John 1:9 promises: "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."
Immediate. Complete. Total cleansing.
Until He Comes
As often as we remember Christ's death, we proclaim it "till He comes" (1 Corinthians 11:26). The church will continue this sacred remembrance until Jesus returns.
The baby born in Bethlehem came once as a sacrifice. He's coming again as King.
So as we light our candles and sing of silent nights and holy nights, let's remember the full story. The light that entered the world on Christmas came to dispel the darkness of sin and death. That light still shines today, and the darkness has not overcome it.
Jesus Christ—our hope, our peace, our joy, our love—has come. And one day, He will come again.
Until then, we remember. We proclaim. We worship the One who was born to die so that we might live.
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