The story of Christmas begins on a silent night, a holy night – not 2,000 years ago, but 13.8 billion years ago. That is when scientists say that the material universe began with the big bang. They can’t predict the weather tomorrow in Gastonia, but they, allegedly, can reverse engineer the expansion and cooling of the photonic waves spreading throughout space. Needless to say, they can’t explain how the primal energy that exploded got there in the first place, or more accurately, who put it there. But still, let’s for our purposes, assume that the material universe began 13.8 billion years ago – a birth date of material creation as good as any, I suppose.

Now, out there in that great material universe, we can literally see 10 billion galaxies but they estimate there are as many as 200 billion galaxies. If you hold up a grain of sand against the sky, it covers up 10,000 galaxies. If you wonder how big a galaxy is, consider this: it would take Star Trek’s enterprise 100 years to cross the Milky Way going non-stop at Warp 9.

Now, how many stars are in each galaxy? We estimate that there is an average of 100 billion stars per galaxy. 200 billion galaxies times 100 billion stars equals 20 sextillion. That looks like 20 plus 21 zeros. 

And there are vastly more planets than stars. There are as many as 10 trillion planets in the Milky Way alone. Multiple 10 trillion planets times 200 billion galaxies, you get 20 septillion planets. It looks like a 20 with 24 zeros behind it. And I’m low-balling it, because this calculation is only for planets orbiting stars and does not include dwarf planets.

When I think of the story of Christmas, I think of this: the vastness of the material universe, incomprehensible by the human mind. You see, I think we humans, which reside on a very small planet in a very small solar system within 1 of the 200 billion galaxies, have a notion of God that is, shall we say, inadequate. Obviously, we can’t comprehend God. I know that. You know that. But we can try to expand our mind a bit further each day, or, each Christmas season.

Many of the Church Fathers believed in what I call Cosmological Christology. I know, it’s a mouth full, but follow me here. Christology is the study of Christ. Cosmology is the study of the universe. So, Cosmological Christology would say that God created those 10 trillion planets in the Milky Way and 200 billion galaxies in the universe all for the sake of glorifying his Son’s incarnation. In fact, the Church Fathers believed that God created the universe so that he, the Creator, could become the created in Nazareth and be introduced to the world 9 months later in Bethlehem.

The supernovas exploding across billions of light years, the black holes with seemingly infinite gravitation pull, the rings of Saturn, and the Catawba River where all created to give glory to a baby in a manager, born of a round young virgin, and who slept in heavenly peace.

Many theologians throughout the centuries have theorized: would God have become man if we silly humans had not fallen? In other words, if we had not eaten the apple . . . had not sinned . . . and thus didn’t need a savior, why would have God become man?

I’m of the school of thought that yes, indeed, God would have become man even if we had not sinned. Why? Because I believe God created those 200 billion galaxies all for the sake of the Nativity scene in Bethlehem. You see, the glory of the incarnation, the glory of the infinite creator becoming a part of his finite creation, is vastly more glorious than our salvation. Don’t get me wrong – human beings have great dignity. But my redemption is not near as glorious as God’s incarnation.

The humility of it – think about it. The humility of God becoming a sniffling, bedwetting, bleeding, fragile creature, to express his infinite love for his creation. How marvelous. How unimaginable.

Imagine Shakespeare loving his sonnet so much that he turns himself into a semi-colon. Imagine Bill Gates loving his computer so much that he turns himself into a microchip. Imagine Mozart loving his music so much that he turns himself into a single B flat.

Infinitely more glorious than this is God becoming a Jew in Bethlehem, a holy infant so tender and mild.

And when this happened, God became known as that which is farthest from us and closest to us, at the same time. He is not just the biggest and strongest being among beings. No. He is completely other than us. He is necessary. We are not. Again, he is completely other, but with the incarnation, he became completely the same, in all things but sin. 

We can now know how small we are in this vast universe, and yet how dignified and loved we are by Love Itself. If for one minute you doubt your worth, if for one minute you doubt your place in this world, know that God created those 200 billion galaxies so that he could become one with you. He chose to do so by becoming the little baby of a lower-class carpenter, born in a stable, warmed by the breath of animals, and honored by ragged shepherds. In fact, I claim this: if you were the only human ever created, God would have made those 200 billion galaxies and those 20 septillion planets all for the sake of becoming one with you in your human nature. That’s how much he loves each of us – enough to build an entire universe so as to become one with us. I love my children, so I built them a treehouse. God loves you, so he built you a universe.

But the story of Christmas has more to it. There was another group of men who paid him homage than just the shepherds. We all know the story of the Magi. Please indulge me for a moment.

The Magi may or may not have been kings. But they were astronomers. In this time period, the most advanced scientific minds of the time studied the stars as much as you and I binge watch NetFlix. So, when an anomaly in the sky was taking shape, they knew it with certitude.

And the anomaly was seen. To their naked eyes, the Magi from different parts of the land, saw something that should not be happening.

The Magi saw heavenly entities on track to intersect. They knew that months down the road, two of the brightest heavenly beings would intersect from a very particular position, in a small town called Bethlehem.

Now, do you remember a few years ago when many people drove down to Columbia to see the total lunar eclipse? People went crazy over this, including my brother Kevin. Trust me, a lunar eclipse is nothing compared to what was happening over Bethlehem.

Two of the brightest “stars” were about to morph together to make a hugely bright star. In this ancient world, a lunar eclipse was seen as a bad omen. But this joining of two bright stars, the Magi concluded, must be an omen of greatness and beauty and truth. So they each loaded up their camels and followed the trajectory of the stars, and met together in Bethlehem, just like my brother Kevin met up with a huge party in Columbia for the eclipse.

What are the chances that the most unique constellational anomaly would occur at the time of Jesus’ birth over Bethlehem?

But it’s more than that. You see, those two stars where not stars. They were two planets, the two brightest heavenly bodies in the night sky. The first planet was Venus the brightest of planets, and thus named after the Roman goddess of love and beauty. The second planet was Jupiter, the largest planet in the solar system, named for the king of the Gods. Zeus is his name in Greek.

Now, before we finish, take your mind back 13.8 billion years ago to the Big Bang . . . when God said BOOM, or however he put the universe in motion. God decided then to do something so beautiful, so poetic, that I can’t even begin to articulate.

He put everything, the entire cosmos, in motion, and had the most beautiful of the Planets and Father of the Planets, join together and shed their bright line down on Mary’s son, and the Father’s son, Jesus Christ.

Listen to me folks, God literally aligned the stars and planets to shine down on the Nativity scene. The star of Bethlehem was put in motion 13.8 billion years ago!

This is not just God showing off. This is God telling us that the universe was created so that he could become man, united with us in our human nature. My mind is blown.

In this corrupt world, Good Will Publishers is one of the few beacons of light, pointing nearly two million readers a year to that baby in a manager. If that is not motivation to sell a product, design a product, tip or gold stamp or pack a product . . . I don’t know what is. There is just nothing more glorious in this life than helping bring people closer to Christ.

When I look up at the stars, I think to myself, My God, what have you done! You created the universe in order to become one of us.

My friends – THAT is the story of Christmas.

Thank you.