Rediscovering the Heart of Christmas

Dear brothers and sisters, seekers of truth, and friends from every walk of life:

It is often said that we see what we are looking for. As the calendar turns and the days grow short, our eyes are naturally drawn to the glowing lights, the wreaths of evergreen, and the familiar comforts of the holiday season. We feel a shift in the atmosphere - a distinct charge in the air that signals the arrival of a special time. We have inherited a vision of this season largely shaped by cultural architects like Charles Dickens, who, in 1843, penned A Christmas Carol in a mere six weeks. Dickens, shaped by the humiliations of his childhood labor at Warren’s Blacking Warehouse and the crushing imprisonment of his father for debt, sought to transform Christmas into a festival of generosity, a singular time when humanity agrees to "open their shut-up hearts freely".

While there is beauty in the Dickensian spirit of goodwill, Jonathan Merigala, in his sermon at Grace Gospel Church, invites us to look higher - and deeper. He challenges us with a question that rarely crosses the modern mind: We know what Christmas means to us, but what does Christmas mean to Jesus Christ?. To answer this, we cannot rely on festive sentiments; we must open the Holy Scriptures. Specifically, Jonathan Merigala directs our gaze to the second chapter of Philippians, a passage that serves not merely as a doctrinal treatise, but as a window into the very mind of Christ.

In this theological reflection, we will walk through Jonathan Merigala’s exegesis of Philippians 2:6-11. We will journey beyond the manger scenes and into the heart of the Godhead, discovering that for Christ, Christmas was not a holiday, but a holy humiliation characterized by selflessness, surrender, service, submission, and sacrifice.

I. The Theology of Selflessness

To understand the magnitude of the Incarnation, we must first ascend to the heights of eternity past. Jonathan Merigala begins by anchoring us in the pre-existence of Christ. The Christmas story does not begin in Bethlehem; it begins in the timeless glory of heaven. As the sermon elucidates, "There never was a time when Jesus was not, and there never will be a time when he ceases to be".

The Apostle Paul writes that Christ was "in the form of God" (Philippians 2:6). Jonathan Merigala meticulously unpacks this, correcting a common error in our modern thinking. This "form" was not a costume or an outer appearance; it speaks of His inner existence, His essential nature. Jesus is the "exact imprint" of God’s nature (Hebrews 1:3), the "image of the invisible God" (Colossians 1:15). For the skeptic who argues that the Bible never claims divinity for Jesus, Jonathan Merigala points to the undeniable evidence of Scripture: Jesus is God the Son, the very substance of the Father.

Here lies the first profound principle of Christmas: Selflessness. Possessing all the rights, privileges, and glory of the Godhead, Christ "did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped" (Philippians 2:6). He did not view His status as a trophy to be hoarded or utilized for His own benefit. In a world obsessed with status, climbing ladders, and asserting rights, the Lord of Glory demonstrates the antithesis of human pride. As Jonathan Merigala powerfully observes, "If the only person in the world who ever had the right to assert his rights would wave them, you and I could do the same". Christmas, to Christ, meant possessing everything yet demanding nothing.

II. The Mystery of Surrender (Kenosis)

How does God become man? This is the great mystery of the faith, and Jonathan Merigala guides us through the theology of the Kenosis - the self-emptying of Christ. The Scriptures declare that He "made himself of no reputation" or "emptied himself" (Philippians 2:7).

This is a theological precipice where many stumble. Jonathan Merigala offers a vital clarification to guard our hearts against heresy. When Jesus emptied Himself, He did not divest Himself of His deity. If He were to set aside His Godhood, He would cease to be God, and a mere man could not save the world. Instead, Jonathan Merigala provides a definition of immense theological weight: "The self-emptying of Christ means this: that Jesus divested himself of the independent use of his attributes".

Consider the magnitude of this surrender. The One who spoke the galaxies into existence voluntarily chose not to exercise His divine power for His own convenience. For thirty years, He performed no miracles. Even at the cross, when He could have summoned twelve legions of angels to rescue Him, He didn't. He possessed the power but surrendered the privilege. As Jonathan Merigala notes, utilizing the translation of J.B. Phillips, Christ "stripped himself of all privilege".

This defines the surrender of Christmas. It is not becoming less than God; it is God choosing to live within the limitations of humanity to identify with us. It is the voluntary restriction of the infinite for the sake of the finite.

III. The Heart of the Servant

The third aspect of Christ’s Christmas, according to Jonathan Merigala’s sermon, is Service. The text says He took "the form of a servant" (Philippians 2:7) - literally, a bondservant or slave.

We often romanticize the nativity, but we must grapple with the reality of what occurred. The Omnipresent One limited His access; the One of unbounded freedom confined Himself to a womb and then to the life of a servant. Jonathan Merigala highlights the consistent testimony of Jesus’s life: "The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve" (Matthew 20:28).

To illustrate the radical nature of this descent, Jonathan Merigala shares the moving history of Samuel Bringle. Bringle was a brilliant orator and scholar, destined for a prestigious pulpit. Yet, feeling a spiritual hollowness, he resigned his position to join William Booth’s Salvation Army in London. There, this celebrated preacher was assigned to clean the muddy boots of other trainees. When the pride of his heart threatened to rise, Bringle remembered his Lord. He wrote in his diary, "Lord, if you could take a towel and wash the disciples' dirty feet, then I can take a brush and clean the cadets' dirty boots".

This is the practical theology of the incarnation. If we claim to celebrate Christmas in the Spirit of Christ, we cannot do so from a pedestal. As Jonathan Merigala exhorts us, we must find a way to "wrap your arms around someone who may need you". The ministry of Christmas is dirty boots and washed feet. It is finding the overlooked and the unloved and serving them, just as the King of Kings served us.

IV. The Vulnerability of Submission

Jonathan Merigala continues his analysis by pointing to the Submission inherent in the Incarnation. Christ was "born in the likeness of men" and "found in human form" (Philippians 2:7-8).

We must pause to meditate on the physicality of this truth. Jonathan Merigala draws on the evocative words of Max Lucado to capture the staggering paradox: "The omnipotent in one instant made himself breakable... God was given eyebrows, elbows, two kidneys, and a spleen". The Creator of life became a fetus, floating in the amniotic fluid of a peasant girl. C.S. Lewis further illuminates this, reminding us that the Eternal Being became a man of a particular height, with hair of a particular color, speaking a particular language.

Why would the Infinite accept such confinement? Jonathan Merigala uses the illustration of the Duke of Windsor, the former Prince of Wales. The Prince once donned a miner's cap and descended into the dangerous coal tunnels of Britain. In doing so, he did not cease to be royalty, but he consented to enter the gritty, perilous experience of the miner. He bridged the gap between the palace and the pit through shared experience.

In a far greater way, the Lord Jesus entered the "mine" of our fallen world. He did not hover above our pain; He "tasted flesh" and became one of us. He submitted to the Father’s will and to the frailties of human existence - hunger, thirst, fatigue, and sorrow - so that He might fully participate in our humanity. This submission is the bedrock of our comfort; we do not pray to a distant God, but to One who knows the dust from which we are made because He has worn it Himself.

V. The Shadow of Sacrifice

The cradle of Bethlehem inevitably casts the shadow of the cross. Jonathan Merigala reminds us that we cannot separate Christmas from Easter; the wood of the manger is inextricably linked to the wood of the crucifixion. Thus, the fifth meaning of Christmas to Christ is Sacrifice.

The sermon leads us to the somber realization that "Jesus, you see, was born to die". While we live to survive, He came to expire. The text describes His obedience "to the point of death, even death on a cross" (Philippians 2:8). Jonathan Merigala details the horror contained in that phrase. It was not merely physical torture - though the crucifixion was a death reserved for the lowest criminals - but a spiritual cataclysm.

On the cross, Jesus faced the assault of Satan, the scorn of men, and, most terrifyingly, the judgment of God upon sin. He cried out in the agony of separation, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?". He took the place that belonged to us.

Jonathan Merigala cites a profound insight from Tim Keller regarding the nature of love: "All life-changing love is a substitutionary sacrifice". To truly love someone with needs or wounds, one must be willing to be wounded. A transfer is required. You cannot pull a drowning man out of the water without getting wet; you cannot heal a broken heart without absorbing some of the grief. "Jesus did not have to die despite God’s love; he had to die because of God’s love".

This is the crux of the gospel message for both the believer and the unbeliever reading this post. We often want the "product without the process," the blessing without the bleeding. But the Christmas perspective of Christ teaches us that salvation required the ultimate cost. As Dr. John Henry Jowett is quoted in the sermon, "Ministry that costs us nothing accomplishes nothing".

VI. The Promise of Exaltation

If the story ended in the tomb, our faith would be futile. But Jonathan Merigala directs our eyes to the glorious "Therefore" of verse 9. Because of His selflessness, surrender, service, submission, and sacrifice, "God has highly exalted him".

The sermon describes the "U" shape of Christ's trajectory - a "round trip from heaven to earth" and back again. The humiliation of the cross was the prelude to the coronation of the Ascension. Jonathan Merigala points us to a future day, a "Second Christmas" of sorts, when the King returns. On that day, the voluntary bowing of shepherds and wise men will be replaced by the mandatory bowing of all creation.

"Every knee should bow," the Scriptures declare - those in heaven (angels and the redeemed), those on earth (humanity), and those under the earth (the forces of darkness). The baby of Bethlehem is the Lord of the Cosmos.

The Call to Humility

What, then, are we to do with this theology? It is not meant merely to inform our minds but to transform our lives. Jonathan Merigala concludes his sermon with a spiritual axiom derived from the apostles Peter and James: "The way you get exalted is not by trying to elevate yourself... The way you get exalted is through humility and serving others".

As we navigate the festivities of this season, let us adopt the "mind of Christ." Let us look at Christmas not for what we can get, but for how we can serve. Let us be lights in a dark world, representatives of the Savior who emptied Himself to fill us.

If you are reading this and do not know this Savior, know that He traveled the infinite distance from glory to grit for you. He became breakable so that you could be made whole. And for those of us who name Him as Lord, let us vow, as Jonathan Merigala prayed, to be the light that is missing in this world.

May the selflessness of the Son of God inspire your charity. May His surrender inspire your obedience. May His service inspire your hands to work. May His submission inspire your faith. And may His sacrifice be the song of your soul this Christmas and forevermore.

In the name of Jesus, the Savior whose life we celebrate. Amen.