by Matthew Gaetano

The appreciation of the celebration of Christmas varied among the early Reformers. Bruce Gordon touches on some of that history here, though see R. Scott Clark’s account here as well.

Martin Luther’s love of the festival was particularly strong, as can be seen in his Christmastide sermons of 1544. Within a couple of years of his death in February 1546, Luther preached in Wittenberg what would be his final Christmas sermons.

(Luther apparently began the New Year with Christmas, so he dated this sermon as Christmas Day of 1545! I removed some of the scholarly bracketing and parentheses from the Concordia edition, vol. 58, for ease of reading. The translation and edition is by Christopher Boyd Brown.)

Today you have heard well enough what a great festival this is, and it is meet that we should rejoice, if we are Christians, because God sends His Son into the flesh.¹ No one can fully express this, not even when we behold Him there in heaven face-to-face. For it is a work, as you heard today, in which the angels rejoice, even though it does not pertain to them but has taken place for our good. They are blessed spirits, not conceived and born in sins. Therefore, they do not need a Savior. And yet they sing with joy that such a Savior as Christ has been born for us poor condemned human beings. There they stand all around, the whole heavenly host. And they can scarcely wait for the angel to finish proclaiming: “Behold, I bring you glad tidings of great joy!” (Luke 2:10). Immediately they break out with full chorus and fill the whole heavens with joy: “Glory to God in the highest!” (Luke 2:14). We cannot fully express these words, but only stammer about them, etc. (192, emphasis added)

It is beautiful to think of the angels as almost growing impatient in their desire to sing “glory to God”!

And even if this highest work did not pertain to us for the salvation of our souls–as, in fact, it does–still we would be obliged to rejoice like the angels. If it were only a matter of this glory and honor–that God’s Son should become our flesh and blood–that honor would be surpassingly great; that today we are so highly exalted that God becomes like us, taking on flesh and blood, would be glory enough. Even though I am a poor human being, nevertheless we are of the same nature in which God shares.

Luther’s joy in Christmas is that God came to save us from our sins, but he also reflects on the glory of the Incarnation for human nature. Luther is rightly famous for opposing the “theology of glory” and affirming a “theology of the Cross,” so it is striking that Luther revels in this sort of glory: the glory that “the One who is God with the Father should come down and become my flesh and blood, and vice versa” (193).

This is a remarkably exalted way of speaking. If we received nothing from this except for honor, it would be honor greater than that of all the angels, who cannot boast as we do–even though they are far superior to us–still they cannot boast that God has taken on an angel’s form. It would be no wonder if they were invidious, as is said of the evil angels when they heard that God was in time to become a human being and that a human being was to be called their brother, even flesh and blood. It is a great thing of which the angels cannot boast, saying, “God was made an angel,” but rather a human being. Why should that not make the angels squint-eyed with envy? And I believe that it was over this article that the devil fell, as Bernard says. And in the Koran, Mohammed–or whoever the author may be–confesses that the devil fell because he refused to adore Adam. The devil makes his confession through Mohammed. God commanded him to adore Adam, that is, the devil confesses that he had seen that God was to become man and that he would have to worship Him, etc. The devil is so bitter that he cannot keep it quiet.

Luther affirms here some medieval speculation about the reason for the fall of Lucifer. An exalted angel refused to accept the Incarnation. The devil is unwilling to accept human beings as his brothers and sisters. Luther roots human dignity and even glory (vis-a-vis the angels!) in the Incarnation that we remember on Christmas Day as we contemplate the Child in Bethlehem’s manger.

But I say that even if we received nothing more than the glory that God has become a human being, that would be a great boast. God is my brother; that is greater than all the glory of kings. … See what the world does for the sake of honor, property, and noble titles. If the emperor were to embrace me, oh, how happy I would be, etc.? Why do I not exult with dancing at the glory since God is my brother? It is because of the devil, who has been the foe of this work from the beginning. … It is not only in this honor in which we surpass the angels that we boast–as they themselves cannot–but still more that this highest work is done “for us and for our salvation”; as the angel sings: “Unto you is born a Savior” (Luke 2:11). That the Son of God becomes like us would be quite enough. But that is not all. Not only does He become flesh and blood, etc., but your Savior. You are subject to death, sin, and the devil. He wants to redeem you from them. Ah, heavenly Father, You put Your Son at a maiden’s breast to nurse Him with a spoonful of milk, and then let Him be hung upon the cross to die–and all this takes place for our sakes. Who will not rejoice at this? Surely we would die of joy, if we considered this aright. (193-94)

Luther preaches that not only does God share our human nature but that He has come as a Savior. If we understood this action of God for us, we would die of joy. The sermon takes aim not only at the devil for stifling this joy, but also at the monks and the “Papists” (196) and even those who do not “begin a new life” (198) in response to hearing the story of Christmas. But I’ll focus here on what Luther calls “our misery and sadness” (194) that we don’t dance for joy–that peace and joy do not “follow in the heart” (198).

I read this and hear it preached that it is so; the prophets proclaim it; the angels preach; the shepherds spread the report that Christ has come and the angels sing; the apostles do miracles to attest it; and the holy Church still sings. But how is it that it does not penetrate us, so that we say: “The One who is like you is God the Creator; He nurses at the breast, and yet He is my God; and all this so that He might deliver me”? What a clod and stump am I, that I do not receive such a one and acknowledge Him as my Savior? God says, “This Child was not given only to the mother so that she might supply Him with milk, but for you, so that He might die and deliver you from My wrath.” All this I hear preached and I read; I have it painted and sung for me, but I do not take it to heart. … Should I not think: “If this Child whom the mother embraces is mine, if He is my brother, how, then should I respond?” It would be no wonder if we became righteous from the heart, even without any other teaching. But we should be warmed and even melt with joy. But the devil has poisoned our flesh and blood so that they will not allow us to attain that fruit and joy, where I hear: “This little Boy does not belong to the mother, but to you, not only as He clings to her breasts in this way but also as He hangs upon the cross. It is most certain that He has been given and born for you.” (194-95)

The talk of the wrath of God and the envy of the demons is reframed a bit later in the sermon when Luther says,

The dear holy angels sing: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, goodwill!” (Luke 2:14). “Goodwill” means God’s good pleasure and joy. God has not sent this work into the world with a grim countenance, with stormy brow. Rather, as He says at the Jordan: “This is My beloved Son” (Matt. 3:17). All things laugh–the angels, the creatures–only the devil and the flesh do not. The angels are filled with joy, and the work has nothing to do with them. They had reason for being envious and sour. But these best of spirits sing: “Glory!”–glory for all the works of God, but especially for this one, as if to say, “Truly, the one who does such a thing, who sends His Son to cling to a maiden’s neck, and not only for the honor but also for the eternal salvation of mankind, such a one is God indeed!” That is grace, love, mercy indeed; for this He is worthy of praise. And this not only in heaven but also on earth; whatever lives and moves shall have peace, good days, and rest, and “goodwill to men.” If I believed this, it would be the delight and love and joy of my heart; I would sing and leap and exult. To be sure, I want peace and righteousness, but my desire and the delight of my heart is that God has sent His Son as my brother for my glory and salvation. If I do not dance, rejoice, and laugh, then the devil must be riding me, etc. Ah, that is not God’s will!–so let Christians say, just as many like Bonaventure and Bernard have spoken about this work with joy. So likewise, all Christians should rejoice, delight, and take heartfelt pleasure in a work like this. What is this life? It is joy, delight, pleasure, that the Son of God is clinging to Mary’s neck, that the Son of God is born for me, is crucified for me. (195-96, emphasis added)