Skip to main content

Jesus came to earth... to reflect God to us




Do you remember playing with a magnifying glass on a sunny day?  That curved piece of glass you held in your hand captured the scattered rays, narrowing them down to a fluttering patch of brightness.  And all the light’s power was held in that one small circle, shrinking and shrinking… until finally you were rewarded with a sudden curl of smoke, and a neat charred hole.

Imagine, then, that God, seeking to reveal himself on earth, condensed his essential being through some kind of celestial magnifying glass.  That wavering point became smaller and smaller, losing none of its power… until it became the exact size of a human baby, growing in a womb.

Jesus is the image of the invisible God, says the verse in Colossians, the perfect reflection of God’s glory.  This is the first and greatest reason that Jesus came: to show us what God is really like.  Yet sometimes, reflected and refracted through 2000 years of history, the image that Jesus shows us seems as blurred as any other.  How do we see it clearly again?

Start by taking one step backwards.  Jesus’ reflection of God is not just about the Sermon on the Mount.  Not just about the people he healed.  Not just his final words on the cross.  If we’re not careful, we can lose ourselves in analysing the detail.  And like an Impressionist painting, the picture dissolves into dots of unrelated colour.  But when we step back and realise that Jesus was God, all of him, and his whole life was dedicated to doing the will of the Father, then we start to see some larger patterns.  His life, death, resurrection and glory all form one extravagant sweep that leads our eye towards God.

And now take three steps forward again.  This is not a picture you can view from a safe distance.  This is a person who demands that you get involved.  The New Testament is full of references to sharing with Christ; we share his sufferings, his death, his resurrection and his reign.  As he shared his humanity with us, so we, gradually, can come to share his God-likeness with him.  The communion table, where we share his body and blood for ourselves and with others, is a beautiful reminder.  The love of God was shown through Jesus, John tells us, and it is only through sharing with love that he can be fully known.

And this Advent, find a magnifying glass and give yourself some time to remember the unwavering light of God, shining from a point just the size of a newborn baby, lying in a manger.  All the light’s power, held in that one small life… and more than enough to kindle a flame.

Photo attribution: By shakko (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Comments

Anonymous said…
Hi, one of my friend is doing an advent devotion on her blog and linked it to yours. I liked this post very much. Even though I never playeyed with the magnifying glass I can picture it. I will be looking forward to more Advent Sunday's. Cherry
Martha said…
Glad you liked it, Cherry! Can I ask which blog you found it from?

Popular posts from this blog

Making a mess

My friend Ellie writes a blog which I now shamelessly crib ideas from, when I am stuck for something new to do with Toby.  Some time ago she wrote about a substance with the poetic moniker of cloud dough .  It sounded simple to make and fun to play with, so I tucked it away in the back of my mind. The recipe is childishly simple: 8 cups of plain flour, 1 cup of vegetable oil, and mix.  It comes out kind of sandy, although softer and more powdery. Now, Ellie has two gorgeous girls.  Her blog entries were full of photos of them adding pretty objects and creating cute little landscapes.  I, on the other hand, have a full-on hands-on get-stuck-in-as-far-as-possible boy.  This is what happens when you let him loose on a scatterable substance. We make it and it all starts well.  Notice I have prepared for mess with a large tarpaulin and lack of shorts. A few minutes in, and the mess is spreading up the T-shirt.  It's still mostly in the t...

Highlights from the rest of the trip

1. Spending time with friends and family. As well as seeing my parents, grandparents and assorted other close relatives, we also visited some of my mum's brother's wife's family (got that?!) who live in an incredibly beautiful part of the world in the western Virginia mountains. John and I got to know them when we came to America by ourselves as children, and when I calculated how long it was since I'd last seen them I wished we'd planned a much longer stay. However, we were en route to see more friends whom I knew from Bristol, now residing near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. We were greeted not only by the Ewings but also a couple more Bristolians, so it was a veritable reunion! I'm always touched by how warmly American families welcome you into their home, sit you down in front of a delicious meal, and offer to lend you anything and everything that might make your stay more pleasant. Thanks y'all! 2. Enjoying the James River via canoes,...

Not for the squeamish

Nor for those who have an irrational fear of snakes, or for that matter an irrational love of cute little bunny rabbits.  But for those who are intrigued by the natural world and don't get too freaked out by the ickier bits of it, this was our David Attenborough moment. John and Kristal's dog Boudin spotted it first, and went bounding up before the rest of us had a chance to register any more than some kind of mound on the path.  It was so interesting he resisted all Kristal's attempts to call him away for a while.  Even though she quickly identified it as a non-poisonous black snake, and besides, its mouth was far too full of rabbit to bite anything else, we were glad when he was safely to heel. We stood and watched for a few minutes.  The rabbit was clearly dead; whether the snake killed it or just found it, we don't know.  It was eating in a leisurely fashion, which I suppose is fair enough when your dinner is actually wider than your body.  Ev...