Three Meditations on "Lo! He comes with Clouds Descending"

Immanuel Lutheran School Choral Evening Prayer for Advent

December 18, 2019


Rev. 7:9-17; Lo! He Comes stz. 1

I. Cur Deus Homo

“Why won’t there be food in heaven?” a student asked me recently. I reminded this thoughtful child that in the kingdom of God our bodies will be resurrected, and the Bible often talks about God’s kingdom as a feast. And then I asked, “What made you so sure there wouldn’t be food?”

“Because the Bible says we won’t hunger or thirst.” Ah! Yes, I see why you might think that. But you see, it’s not eating and drinking that’s the problem, but a world where people suffer.

Our world is infected with sin, and corrupted by death. So when the Bible says, “They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore,” it’s describing a world where people don’t starve, where people have clean water to drink. 

St. Anselm in the 11th century wrote a book called Cur Deus Homo? It means, “Why the God Man?” Sometimes it’s translated, “Why did God become man?” Mr. Barnett can explain the Latin to you. St. Anselm talks about Jesus as a sacrifice. And that sacrifice begins as a little child.

Where did they put Jesus? In a manger. 

What’s a manger for? Feeding sheep.

What city was Jesus born in? Bethlehem. Do you know what it means? “House of Bread.” Do you see the idea? When Christ the Lord returns to reign as king, He will take care of us and be Himself our food and drink.

And there’s one more thing. Do you know the Christmas song that describes Jesus as a baby, “No crying He makes”? I kind of doubt that. Babies cry because they’re hungry. Later on we cry for other reasons, like when someone we love dies.

But in God’s coming kingdom, what does Jesus do? We heard Luke Robb read that He “will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” There will be no more dying, and so no more crying. That’s why we pray in Advent, “Come, Lord Jesus!” Come, wipe away all tears, and bring an end to death.


Rev. 1:4-8; Lo! He Comes stz. 2

II. The Firstborn

“And [Mary] brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn” [Lk 2:7 KJV]. Jesus is called Mary’s firstborn son. The firstborn is not quite the same as being the oldest child. It doesn’t necessarily mean there will be other children. The firstborn is the heir. What belongs to the parents goes to the firstborn; he inherits. It’s a legal designation.

The Bible reading that Parker Work just read also calls Jesus the firstborn. He’s “The firstborn of the dead.” He came forth from His mother Mary’s womb as the firstborn. After He was crucified, He came forth from the womb of the earth, the tomb in which Joseph of Arimathea put Him. He is the firstborn of the dead – do you know what that means? It means here that there will definitely be other children. Other brothers and sisters of Jesus, who will also come from the dead. 

Cur Deus Homo? Why did God become man? To bring man up from the dead. God doesn’t become a little baby just to stay that way, all cute and huggable like babies are. No, He comes to cry our tears and die our death, so He can be the firstborn from the dead. And He’s going to rescue us all from death, too. That’s what the firstborn, the big brother, does. He takes care of all his little brothers and sisters. That’s why we pray in Advent, “Come, Lord Jesus!” Come, You firstborn from the dead, and rescue us from the valley of shadows.  


John 20:24-29; Lo! He Comes stzs. 3, 4

III. Glorious Scars

I liked to ride my skateboard down this big hill where I grew up. I did it a thousand times without a problem. But one day my skateboard hit a rock, and I landed on my chin. I got stitches, and I got a scar, with a story to tell.

A few years later I was riding my bike back home from the beach. (Shady Oak Lake) My towel was around my shoulders, but it slipped off. It got tangled up in the spokes of my front wheel. I flew over the handlebars and landed on my chin. This time I got knocked out. When I came to, I went to the hospital for some more stitches in the same place. I got a scar, with a story to tell.

The scar was embarrassing for a lot of years. It seemed like a mark of failure. Now it’s a reminder of who I am and where I’ve been. I can’t say it’s a glorious scar, though.

We just heard the 4th and 5th graders sing, With what rapture / Gaze we on those glorious scars. The scars of Jesus tell the story of where He’s been, and what He’s done. Jesus still has the scars. Those glorious scars tell us why God became man - to be our Redeemer, to bear our sins and die our death. Jesus still has a body; it’s a glorious body, risen from the dead, immortal and life-giving. But He still has the scars; He has them forever. It’s His story, and our story. 

The story is not finished. Jesus is coming again, and we will see His scars and say with Thomas, “My Lord and my God!” Come, Lord Jesus, claim Your kingdom, and we will sing Alleluia unto the ages of ages.