A few years ago, I took my then 18-year-old grandson to Washington DC. One of the places we toured was the National Art Gallery. There was a display of an artist I particularly wanted to see in Gallery 50-something. Carter, however, wanted to start our tour in Gallery 1 and hit every gallery in between, which we did.
One thing I noticed was the way ancient artists displayed the Christ Child, usually with a halo, but always with a glorious light surrounding His face, or His manger. In many paintings, He looked like a glowing little old man sitting on Mary’s lap.
I’m not sure that’s what Mary saw that night. I think she saw a newborn baby, common in every way. There was no halo, no supernatural light in that stable or around that manger. That perhaps is the most miraculous thing about this child. God with us. Housed in a common body. Born in a common way. To common everyday folks.
But with that common birth, everything changed. Darkness was doomed. Light now broke through the darkness that had permeated the human race since Adam was banished from the Garden.
Light, God’s light, would soon take up residence in the hearts of men and women who would come to Him through His grace by faith. For through this little common newborn, God would redeem mankind and give us light to behold His glory.
“For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.” [2 Cor 4:6]
