But what is this rich provision? We read the answer in the word, “her seed”. Here is a promise, that a deliverer should come into this world, who should be born of a woman. If the question be put, “Who is this seed of the woman?” we readily reply — The Lord Jesus Christ. The blessed Saviour. The only Redeemer. The only begotten Son of God Most High. True — The voice of God here promises that Jesus, appointed to save — should be made man — should be one of our family by birth — should be bone of our bones, flesh of our flesh.
The fact is easily stated. But, reader, is it your habit to ponder over the great and precious truths belonging to it? Mark! The mighty God, without ceasing to be God, becomes man to redeem us. Wonder of wonders! The like to this never has been — never could be. Let the greatest king become the meanest beggar: let the richest prince leave his palace for the vilest cell of a loathsome prison; it is as nothing to the act of Jesus, when He left heaven to put on Him the rags of our mortality. The Creator of all things appears a creature! The Almighty is a weak babe! The Eternal is a child of time! The Infinite is contracted into the limits of this poor flesh! Is not this the wonder of wonders? Is not this grace which has no bounds? Reader, do you seriously believe, that Jesus thus humbled himself even for you? If you do, you cannot but feel, that no debt can be like your debt; and that, as heaven is high above the earth, so great is what you owe, beyond what you can ever pay.
In the poor matters of this earth, a prince’s or a noble’s birth awakens signs of far-extending joy. The banners wave. The steeples sound. The festive board is spread. Shall we then call upon the realm of nature to celebrate with worthy praise this praise-surpassing fact? What! if the sun should hang forth millions of lamps, each brighter in brilliance than itself; what! if each drop of ocean’s water could raise a chorus of ecstatic hallelujahs; what! if each leaf of every forest could cast back the pealing shout; it would be shame to offer a tribute so unfit.
But there is a testimony of delight which Jesus seeks. He is repaid, when grateful hearts throw wide their portals to receive Him, and when welcoming praise extols His saving name. O my soul, will you not then bid all that is within you, to clap the hands of loving worship around the manger at Bethlehem?
When Abraham saw the day of Christ afar off, he rejoiced and was glad. The unborn Baptist could not restrain emotion, when the unborn Jesus was brought near.
The beacon-star filled the journeying sages with exceeding great joy. The multitude of the heavenly host, who shared not in redemption’s mercies, made heaven’s vault to echo with their praises. O my soul, can you be silent? Hear you not the angel’s cry? “I bring you good tidings of great joy”. Will you not with great joy drink in these tidings? “Unto you is born a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord”. Will you not, in aged Simeon’s spirit, clasp Him in the heart of faith, and lift up the hymn of praise?