By Elliot Ritzema
Scripture Reading: John 1:1-5, John 1:9, Genesis 1:1-5, Colossians 1:15-17
About three miles southeast of Bethlehem, Herod the Great built a desert fortress he called Herodium. Set atop a conical hill with a commanding view of the surrounding countryside, it was a favorite retreat. He liked it so much that he wanted his tomb there.
Herod was not a good person, but he was a great builder. Ruins of his ambitious projects still dot the landscape of his former realm, and Herodium is one of them. Several years ago, I stood on top of the hill, taking in the windswept view. Looking toward Bethlehem, I wondered what it might have been like for the famously paranoid Herod perceiving the news of a new king as a threat to his own control. Even for other powerful people at the time, the prospect of a new king could have brought unease, a threat to the comfortable status quo.
Yet the Bible teaches us that it is the status quo of this world that needs to be questioned. At the start of his Gospel, John described Jesus as the Word through whom the world was created. In the beginning, God spoke His Word and made things happen. This is how He ordered the universe. This is how He expressed His thoughts and His will.
Augustine said in a sermon on John 1:1–5, “If a human plan wins praise because of some striking monument, do you want to see how the Lord Jesus Christ, that is, the Word of God, is the plan of God? Take a look at the structure of the world, observe what has been made through the Word, and then you will have some idea of what the Word is like.” The world has seen many builders both before and after Herod, but none of them can compare to the Word’s power to bring order from chaos, beauty from disorder. The apostle Paul writes, “all things have been created through him and for him….and by him all things hold together” (Colossians 1:16–17).
In the same passage, John also describes Jesus as a light— “the true light that gives light to everyone” (John 1:9). Just as humans tend to structure the world using our own words and plans, so we also tend to walk by our own lights. We think our own reason and inventiveness can help us, but these lights cannot keep us from stumbling. Darkness has encroached, but the light is coming. By His death and resurrection, He “would proclaim light” (Acts 26:23).
Words have become cheap in our time, and we have so many of our own lights that we can hardly see the stars. This Advent, what would it look like for us to set aside our own words and wait for the Word who addresses us? What if we dimmed our own sources of light and looked for the light who came into the world? What if we set aside our own projects for ordering the world and received the Word-become-flesh with joy?
Written by Elliot Ritzema
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