The Glory of Heaven Revealed to the Nations
December 21, 2025
Dr. Bradford Reaves
Crossway Christian Fellowship
Luke 2:21-32
When we think of Christmas, we picture warmth—lights, family, the glow of a tree, the smell of something good in the oven. My grandfather, who fought in the Pacific, used to tell me that Christmas always felt like a moment when the world paused just long enough to breathe. But the older I get, the more I realize that Christmas doesn’t always arrive in peaceful places. Sometimes it breaks into the darkest nights in the coldest corners of the world.
In December 1944, during the Battle of the Bulge, one of the harshest winters Europe had seen in decades descended on a forest in the Ardennes. American troops—many of them teenagers—were dug into frozen foxholes, hungry, exhausted, and surrounded. On Christmas Eve, a young American soldier named Private John “Jack” Schaffner wrote in his diary from the front lines. He described bitter cold, constant shelling, and the fear that the German offensive might overwhelm them. Yet in that same entry, Schaffner wrote something extraordinary:
“It is Christmas Eve. The sky is clear. The stars are beautiful. We are dug in on a slope and the snow is white all around. The guns have stopped for the moment… and someone down the line is singing Silent Night. It is strange… but for the first time in days, I feel calm. God is here.”
Another true account comes from a small group of American soldiers who took shelter in a German woman’s cabin that same Christmas Eve. When a terrified mother named Elisabeth Vincken opened her door to find three wounded American soldiers on her steps, she took them in. Moments later, four German soldiers also appeared seeking shelter. She told them, “Tonight, there will be no killing.” She made them stack their weapons outside. And in that tiny cabin—Americans and Germans, enemies in war—shared a Christmas meal, a prayer, and a few hours of peace before returning to the battlefield.
Christmas doesn’t pretend the world isn’t broken. It declares that God steps into brokenness with a Light no darkness can overcome.
Luke 2:21–32 pulls our eyes out of our small, warm circles—our traditions, our homes, our world—and lifts them toward the blazing, global glory of God revealed in His Son. The Child Mary carried in her arms is not just the comfort of one nation; He is the salvation “prepared in the presence of all peoples,” the Light of the nations, and the glory of Israel.
I. A Child Under the Law to Redeem Those Under the Law
And at the end of eight days, when he was circumcised, he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb. 22 And when the time came for their purification according to the Law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord 23 (as it is written in the Law of the Lord, “Every male who first opens the womb shall be called holy to the Lord”) 24 and to offer a sacrifice according to what is said in the Law of the Lord, “a pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons.” (Luke 2:21–24)
Luke begins by grounding Christmas in the real world of Jewish life and biblical promise. “At the end of eight days,” he writes, Jesus was circumcised according to the Law and officially given the name commanded by Gabriel: Jesus—Yahweh saves. In those simple verses, the eternal Son who authored the Law in glory now willingly places Himself under it in humility. The God who thundered at Sinai now lies in a mother’s arms, wrapped in human flesh, submitting to every requirement of the Law so that He might redeem those who could never keep it.
Have you ever asked yourself, why was Jesus circumcised? Was it merely for the fact of tradition or identifying as a Jewish boy? Why did the son of God require the circumcision of his flesh? Let’s walk through the four reasons Scripture gives us.
1. Jesus Was Circumcised to Identify Fully With the Covenant People of God
Circumcision began in Genesis 17 as the sign of God’s covenant with Abraham and his descendants. It marked Israel as God’s chosen people.
• By being circumcised, Jesus:
• enters the covenant community of Israel,
• affirms God’s promises to Abraham,
• identifies Himself with His people at the most vulnerable level — from infancy.
He is not an outsider who swoops in; He is a Son of Abraham (Matt. 1:1). He is the true seed through whom all the nations will be blessed (Gen. 22:18). If Jesus had NOT been circumcised, He would have stood outside the covenant He came to fulfill. This wasn’t merely tradition; it was covenant fidelity.
2. Jesus Was Circumcised to Fulfill the Law Perfectly On Our Behalf
Circumcision was not optional—it was required by the Law.
But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, 5 to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. (Galatians 4:4–5)
Jesus’ submission to circumcision is the infant form of His lifelong obedience. From Day 8, Jesus is already:
• the perfectly obedient Son,
• fulfilling every requirement of the Law,
• doing for us what we could never do.
At eight days old, He begins the mission that will culminate at thirty-three years old on a cross. His circumcision isn’t a tradition; it’s the first public act of substitutionary obedience.
3. Jesus Was Circumcised to Show His True Humanity
Circumcision is one of the clearest demonstrations that Jesus was not merely appearing human — He was fully human. He had: a real body, real flesh, nerve endings that felt real pain.
who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. 8 And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:6–8)
The eternal Son did not float above human existence. He entered it — fully, physically, vulnerably. In His circumcision, He experiences:
• the pain of humanity,
• the limitations of infancy,
• the blood of His own body being shed.
Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, 15 and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery. 16 For surely it is not angels that he helps, but he helps the offspring of Abraham. 17 Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. (Hebrews 2:14–17)
This is profound: The first time Jesus shed blood, it wasn’t at the cross. It was at His circumcision. The One who would save by His blood first shed His blood as a baby — under the Law He came to fulfill.
4. Jesus Was Circumcised as a Foreshadowing of the Greater “Circumcision” to Come
And the Lord your God will circumcise your heart and the heart of your offspring, so that you will love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, that you may live. (Deuteronomy 30:6)
Circumcision was always meant to point to something deeper: the circumcision of the heart — the cutting away of sin.
The prophets made this clear:
“Circumcise the foreskin of your heart” (Deut. 10:16)
“The LORD will circumcise your heart… to love Him” (Deut. 30:6)
“Circumcise yourselves to the LORD” (Jer. 4:4)
For no one is a Jew who is merely one outwardly, nor is circumcision outward and physical. 29 But a Jew is one inwardly, and circumcision is a matter of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the letter. His praise is not from man but from God. (Romans 2:28–29)
Paul ties it all together: In him also you were circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, by putting off the body of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ, 12 having been buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him through faith in the powerful working of God, who raised him from the dead. 13 And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, 14 by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross. (Colossians 2:11–14)
Mary and Joseph then bring Jesus to Jerusalem to present Him to the Lord, obeying the command that every firstborn male be set apart as holy (Exodus 13). Their required sacrifice—“a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons”—reveals their poverty, for only those who couldn’t afford a lamb brought birds (Leviticus 12:8). How fitting, how breathtaking, that the Lamb of God is born into a home too poor to afford a lamb.
And if she cannot afford a lamb, then she shall take two turtledoves or two pigeons, one for a burnt offering and the other for a sin offering. And the priest shall make atonement for her, and she shall be clean.” (Leviticus 12:8)
Jesus is born under the Law not to be crushed by it, but to fulfill it perfectly for us (Galatians 4:4–5). He enters not a palace but poverty, not status but obscurity. He does not stand above humanity but steps beneath its weight.
Christmas is not sentimental sweetness—it is divine condescension. It is the holy God stepping into the dust and weariness of our world, declaring, “I will keep the Law for you, because you cannot keep it for yourself.”
Christmas reminds us first that we needed redemption and could not earn it. And second, it reminds us that Christ willingly identified with the lowly. You don’t have to climb up to God; the incarnation is God climbing down to you. He meets you where you are—not where you pretend to be.
II. A Man Who Waited Well
Now there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. 26 And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. 27 And he came in the Spirit into the temple, and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him according to the custom of the Law, (Luke 2:25–27)
Now the camera shifts to a man named Simeon—righteous, devout, steady, seasoned by years of longing. He is described not by his accomplishments but by his character. “He was righteous and devout,” Luke says, “waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him.” That phrase—waiting for the consolation of Israel—signals a man whose hope was anchored in the promises of God. Israel was weary. Their glory days were long gone. Rome ruled. Pain lingered. But Simeon held on to the Word. Like the faithful remnant Isaiah comforted when he said, Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. (Isaiah 40:1)
And the Holy Spirit does something remarkable: He reveals to Simeon that he will not die until he sees the Messiah with his own eyes. Led by the Spirit into the Temple courts, Simeon arrives at the exact moment Mary and Joseph walk in carrying Jesus. Imagine that moment. The old man who has spent a lifetime praying, waiting, watching… now watches God walk toward him in swaddling cloths.
Simeon is an Advent man—the embodiment of holy, patient, Spirit-led waiting. He didn’t grow cynical in the waiting; he grew deeper. He didn’t harden; he humbled himself. He didn’t drift; he drew near. He waited with Scripture in his mind, the Spirit in his heart, and hope in his bones.
I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope; 6 my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning. (Psalm 130:5–6)
Every person in this room is waiting for something—answers, healing, restoration, direction, provision. Advent invites us to wait like Simeon: not anxiously but anchored, not bitter but believing, not passively but prayerfully. The world waits in fear; the Church waits in faith.
III. Salvation Prepared for All Peoples
he took him up in his arms and blessed God and said, 29 “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word; 30 for my eyes have seen your salvation 31 that you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, 32 a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to your people Israel.” (Luke 2:28–32)
When Simeon takes the baby Jesus into his arms, he bursts into a song that has echoed through 20 centuries. “Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace… for my eyes have seen Your salvation.” Simeon doesn’t say, “I’ve seen the beginning of salvation” or “I’ve seen a sign of salvation.” He says, “I have seen Your salvation.” Salvation is not a system; it is a Person. Not a doctrine alone, but a Deliverer. Not an idea, but Emmanuel.
Then comes the global explosion of the gospel: “It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to bring back the preserved of Israel; I will make you as a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” (Isaiah 49:6)
Simeon sees what the prophets longed for. Jesus is not a tribal Messiah. He is not a regional deity. He is not Israel’s Savior only. No—He is the Light that pierces the nations’ darkness (Isaiah 49:6), the glory that completes Israel’s story, and the salvation prepared before the watching world. This Child is the fulfillment of Genesis 12:3—that in Abraham’s Seed all the families of the earth would be blessed.
Simeon holds the baby who will one day be worshiped by a “great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages” (Revelation 7:9–10). His solo will become a global chorus.
Christmas destroys small Christianity. Christ is not a “personal peace” accessory or a seasonal mood. He is the Light of the world, the Savior of the nations, the glory of Israel, the Redeemer of all who believe. If your Jesus is too small, Christmas calls you to expand your vision.
Conclusion – The Song of Simeon and the Song of the Nations
Imagine the scene once more: a poor couple, a tiny baby, an old man with eyes shining like prophecy fulfilled, and a busy Temple that doesn’t even notice the King of Glory has arrived. But Simeon sees Him. He sees what Herod missed, what Rome missed, what the crowds missed. He sees the salvation of God cradled in his arms—the Light that will ignite the nations.
Simeon’s song is the whisper before the roar. One day the nations will join him, the redeemed from every corner of the earth singing: “Salvation belongs to our God and to the Lamb!” (Revelation 7:10). And between Simeon’s solo and the nations’ chorus stands us—this moment, this Advent, this calling.
So let us see Him clearly, embrace Him fully, and proclaim Him boldly. Let us carry the Light into the darkness, confident that the same Jesus who comforted Simeon now comforts us—and the same Savior who came for Israel came for the nations and came for you.
