God With Us

Bob Jones

Faith for the Family — December 1980

Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call His name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us. — Matthew 1:23

The existence of God is a self-evident fact, one has only to look about him at the wonders of the universe and at the beauties of nature to realize that back of all the visible creation is Deity who planned and wrought it. The wonders of the heavenly bodies hanging like myriad candles to light the capacious halls of space reflect dimly the radiance of the divine Mind which gives them light. The microscopic life teeming in a drop of water evidences with no less certainty the existence of the Author of all life.

The Psalmist declares, “The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God.” In the face of all the over-whelming evidence, the man who denies the existence of the Creator is nothing more than a fool. The Word of God, always so accurate, says that it is in his heart that the fool has said, “there is no God.” Despite all the evidence which must convince the mind of the fact of Deity, many men in their self-willed hearts deny the existence of the eternal God.

The intellect cannot but recognize the presence and power of God in the universe. But Deity, by the very fact of His existence, demands worship and obedience. Some men, proud and rebellious, and unwilling to submit themselves to these demands, in their hearts, where the pride and rebellion have their source, say there is no God. Such men, says the Bible, are “fools.”

The mind of man cannot but recognize in the split-second accuracy of planetary motion, in the ordered sequence of the seasons, in the cycle of the processes of life in nature, the presence of a divine Mind, a divine Hand — a divine Lord. Truly, “the Heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth His handiwork.” The glory of God gleams in the pyrotechnics of the aurora borealis, The power of God is apparent when the storm rides the wings of the wind. The majesty of God is manifested when the earth which He created trembles in His presence and the earthquake shakes the rocks. The beauty of the rainbow, unfurled like a banner across the heavens, proclaims His residence in His universe.

But in all the manifestations of God through nature, God is a Being distant and far from human reach. The mind of man must recognize the existence of God, but the mind of man cannot discover Him. “Who by searching can find out God?” It is not necessary, however, that man dis-cover Deity. God has revealed Himself in the person of His Son. The Lord Jesus Christ is God revealed for the appropriation of man’s personal needs — his need of salvation from sin, his need of the limitless power of Deity imparted to him for daily living. Christ is the One who “hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us” — between God and man. He reconciles sinful man to a sin-less God. He makes Omniscience available to lighten the darkness of human ignorance. He brings Omnipotence within the reach of mortal impotence.

The Lord Jesus Christ co-existent with the Father from the beginning, the One who John tells us was in the beginning with God, voluntarily took upon Himself the form of man that He might redeem man and reconcile him unto God. What great condescension to step from the realm of glory which had been eternally His into the tempest and turmoil of time! What condescension for God Himself, whose habitation is the universe, to robe Himself with the garment of flesh and the grave-clothes of humanity! Of His own will He came eagerly, gladly, unselfishly to die. Paul tells us that He, “for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame,” and that it was for the death of the cross that He became incarnate.

Countless stars bedeck the night,
Countless beauties clothe the earth;
Thy hand set those lamps alight,
Thy Word gave all beauty birth.

Fairer than the stars of even
Shines the beauty of Thy face,
And no glories under heaven
Match the wonder of Thy grace.

When God in the person of the Lord Jesus Christ was incarnate among men, it was a complete identification of Deity with humanity God in Christ became man, in all points like unto man except that He only of all the sons of man was completely free from sin. The Lord of glory became a child of earth. How great a mystery! The tiny Babe lying in the manger of Bethlehem was the One without whom was not anything made that was made. The tiny, chubby baby hand upon the cheek of the virgin mother was the hand of Him who holds the universe in the hollow of His hand. The baby arm about the mother’s neck was the arm of the One whose everlasting arms are underneath all things. The lisping words of the toddling Child of Nazareth were the words of the One who spoke the earth into being and who created a universe by the Word of His mouth. The knowledge of the twelve-year-old Lad in the temple as He confounded and amazed the doctors of the law was the knowledge of the One who is the Author of all truth and the embodiment of all wisdom. The One sitting on the well curb to rest, tired with His journey and burning with the heat of the day, was the God who created the world in six days and rested on the seventh. The One who paid taxes to Caesar was the One who established human government and from whose hand Caesar received the power he so often misused.

In every point He entered into the feeling of our infirmities. More lonely and burdened than any other man was ever lonely and burdened, He prayed alone in the garden while His disciples slept. Thirsty, He asked for a drink of water beside the well of Samaria, and upon the cross He cried, “I thirst.” Hungry, He resisted the temptation of Satan to turn stones into bread. Weary and worn, He slept in the stern of the boat amid the storm at sea.

Christ was incarnate for a definite purpose. He came to die. Man had sinned and man was under the condemnation of the righteous law of God. The human race had sinned and the sons of the race must be punished. No man could pay the penalty for the sins of man because no man was himself free from the condemnation of sin; but God Him-self, the sinless One, in the person of His Son incarnate in the flesh, paid the penalty for the sins of man. “For this cause,” said He, speaking of His death, “came I into the world.” God did not become man to teach man how to live. Christ did not come into the world primarily to perform miracles — to restore the sight to the blind and hearing to the deaf, to send strength coursing through withered limbs. The miracles which He per-formed were indications of His Deity, the proofs of His power. They were the flowers which blossomed in His footprints as He journeyed toward the cross. In the Lord Jesus Christ the power and the love of God ally themselves in satisfying His law and in making divine mercy available for man through His atonement upon the cross for the sins of Adam’s children.

Thy habitation is eternity,
O high and holy One, who fillest space!
Yet Thou didst deign to leave
Thine own abode
And make with sinful man
Thy dwelling-place.
Thou, King of kings, didst put Thy glory by,
And lay aside Thy sceptre and Thy crown;
Thou, everlasting Father, Prince of Peace,
To fleeting days and constant strife came down.

And Thou didst walk with men and share their toil,
And feel their weariness and shed their tears;
Thou, mighty Counsellor, didst speak Thy words
Of Heaven’s wisdom unto foolish ears;
And Thou west patient with their ignorance,
Their stubbornness, their pride, their unbelief;
Thou who art Life didst yield Thyself to death,
Thou, pure and sinless, hung beside a thief.

— Annie Johnson Flint,

The whole wonder of the Incarnation is this: it was for us, for you and for me, that God became flesh and dwelt among us, The personal application of His shed blood to our sinful hearts cleanses us; faith in Him imparts salvation to us. How wonderful that God should take upon Himself the form of man, become an inheritor of the “ills that flesh is heir to,” suffer the ignominy of the cross; but how much more wonderful that He did this for us! The prophet Isaiah spoke for Israel when he said, “Unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given,” but of a truth he spoke also for us, for all men of every kindred and tongue and tribe and nation in all the ages and of every clime. To shepherd and wise man, to the lowly and the mighty, to the ignorant and the learned, God reveals Himself in the person of His Son,

The stars were bright above the hillsides of Judea beyond where Bethlehem lay sleeping the drowsy sleep of its antiquity. Busy about their task of watching the flocks in the quiet of the cool, night air were a group of shepherds, humble men, born to a lowly task of earth — simple, humble herdsmen. The cold, distant stars looked down as on a myriad other nights. There were problems to be faced by the shepherds — problems common to all the poor lowly men of all times and all peoples — wives and children to be fed and clothed and cared for, taxes to be paid, a living to be made, All these were back of the nightly problem of the keeping of the sheep. There were wolves and other wild beasts that came up in the darkness. There were lambs that would wander away from the fold. There was the problem of pasturage and good water. Little, petty, nagging problems! Faithfully they watched, stood to their task, these shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch by night, To these men was the heaven a closed book save as it revealed the simple matters of direction — north, south, east, and west — or as it spoke to them of fair weather or rain on the morrow, or as the faint, rosy glow in the east betokened the coming of the day. They could not read its mysteries, nor trace its planets in their courses, any more than they could explain the whims of the tyrant Caesar or of some stupid sheep. Their needs were the needs common to men — the need of peace and love, the satisfaction of the hunger of the body, and the yearning of the soul. So, on this night, as on other countless nights, they watched, as their fore-fathers had watched in other years and other generations, the helpless flock. Alert, they glanced over the flock, wondering which ram would be taken by the Roman tax-gatherer and which young lamb was perfect enough for sacrifice.

Suddenly in the midst of the silence that wrapped them round like a cloak, there came a sound of heavenly doors rolled back, the light of an angelic face, the whiteness of seraphic robes. Startled, the men themselves, like their sheep at the coming of some wild beast, stood terror-stricken and afraid until the music of the heavenly visitor’s voice poured over and around them in calm, soft melody: “Unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.” And, then, from the suddenly-appearing choir, countless in number, came the antiphonal! “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men.” The stars paled in the sky before the brightness of the angels. Like a wind across the desert sand was the noise of their pinions, and earthward came, fluttering like down, a benison from angel’s wings.

Hurrying to Bethlehem the shepherds found all things as the angel had described them: the Babe, the manger, and the swaddling clothes; and when they had seen them, they made known abroad “the saying which was told them concerning the Child … and the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen.”

In the East were the wise men sages, scholars, scientists. From their towers nightly they studied the heavens. To them the stars were as an open book. The planets in their courses measured out to them the moments, nibbled from eternity by time. The comets were strange, heavenly visitors with whom they sought acquaintance, and who talked to them in a language shepherds could never understand. Faithfully these wise ones watched the heavens wherein were written in the burning fires of the stars the story of God’s plan for man’s redemption. But on one night the heavens with which they were so familiar burned with the light of a new star — “His star!” What a strange way to describe it, when all the stars are His stars, all the glistering suns, chips, and dust from the cuttings for the jewels for His diadem, swept out the high doorway of creation’s work-shop by a cherubic janitor with broom of fire; all the swiftly moving planets but whispered syllables from His mouth who spoke worlds into existence and “the entrance of whose Word giveth light.” But in a strange, peculiar sense this was “His star”; for this star proclaimed His coming “from the brightness of heavenly glory to the darkness of earth’s midnight pall.” It spoke of the brightness of His rising upon the horizon of mortality — the Immortal One clothed with the garment of humanity — a Star of Hope for the sons of men in the night of despair. And, moving westward the star led them as they followed asking, “Where is He that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen His star in the East, and are come to worship Him,” To the shepherds the angel proclaimed a Saviour. To the wise men the star was the revelation of a King. How appropriate it was that to the keepers of the flocks, to those who raised the lambs for sacrifice, should be announced the coming of the Lamb of God, the Saviour of mankind; that to the wise men seeking wisdom and studying the wonders of creation He who is all wisdom and the Creator of all things should be revealed by an astral messenger, and that coming to worship the heavenly King they should be ushered into His presence by a starry chamberlain!

To those with ears untuned to the music of the spheres, He sent a heavenly choir. To the shepherds who could not read the secret mysteries of the diamond-starred script penned across the black velvet scroll of the sky, God sent an angelic messenger speaking in their own tongue. To the wise men He spoke in the language of their study and by means of a heavenly light. How appropriate the praise of angels! How fitting the star! For He is the Light of light, “the true Light which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.” He is the giver of song: “He makes the woeful heart to sing,” and puts a song of hope on the lips of sorrow and in the hearts of those bowed down with grief. So the shepherds came seeking a Saviour, and the wise men came seeking a King, and both found in Him the object of their search and the end of all their seeking. And the shepherds returned glorifying and praising God. The wise men in their wisdom went away pondering in their hearts the wonder of God’s mercy. The shepherds went out with a song of praise such as those only can sing who have seen the Saviour. The wise men left their gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh at the feet of the infant King. The shepherds found Him wrapped in swaddling clothes, vestured in the cerements of the grave — this Infant born to die. The wise men brought spices for the burial of a King and incense for His funeral rites. Laid in a stable among beasts of humility and sacrifice — the ox and the sheep and the dove — was God’s little Lamb, the Heir of all creation, the Son of Man to die, the Lord of Life to reign! Humble toilers found the Saviour, and wise men worshiped the King.

On the hillside, shepherds,
In the air, a song;
And, amazed, the herdsmen
Behold an angel throng.

In a far land, wise men,
In the night, a star
Leading ever westward
Where Judah’s boundaries are.

Shepherds in the manger
Find the Lamb of God;
A King waits the wise men
At the end of their road.

So it is today, and so it has been through all the years since the Babe was laid in Bethlehem’s manger. The needy find in Him the answer to the need. To all those who seeking find Him, He is the Saviour, and all truly wise men acknowledge Him as Lord of their lives. To the worker at his labor, to the scholar at his study, to the toiler at his task, to the student at his textbook, to the herdsman in the field, to the scientist in the laboratory, He is the only answer, the ultimate answer to human need.

Of all the names of Deity none sounds more melodious to the ear of needy men, none echoes more sweetly in the heart of God’s children than this — “Emmanuel, God with us!” In all the vicissitudes of mortal life, in the hour of sorrow as in the time of joy, amid war and poverty and pain and pestilence, as in peace and prosperity and happiness and health, He answers every need, giving strength and power, bringing comfort and courage, and affording wisdom and understanding. He is still, now and forever, “Emmanuel, God with us.”


The late Dr. Bob Jones, Jr., was the Chancellor of Bob Jones University. This article first appeared in Faith for the Family, December 1980. It is republished here by permission.