Love Came Down: The Heart of Christmas

There's something profoundly beautiful about the final candle of Advent—the candle of love. It sits at the center of the wreath, surrounded by hope, peace, and joy, because love is truly the center of it all. Love is the heartbeat of our salvation, the core reason we celebrate Christmas in the first place.

In our broken, wounded world, love often comes with conditions. We love those who love us back. We forgive those we think deserve forgiveness. We give gifts to people we believe will appreciate them. But God's love operates on an entirely different plane—one that defies human logic and transcends our limited capacity to love.

Love for the Unlovable

Romans 5:6-11 presents us with a stunning reality: "You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly." This passage doesn't say Christ died for us when we got our act together, when we promised to do better, or when we finally deserved it. No—while we were still sinners, He died for us.

That word "powerless" carries significant weight. It means we were completely unable to help ourselves, spiritually dead, incapable of earning our way to God. No matter how good we try to be, we cannot bridge the gap between humanity and divinity through our own efforts. We all fall short. We are all guilty.

Yet at precisely the right time—because God's timing is always perfect—Christ came. When humanity was at its lowest, when hope seemed lost, Jesus stepped into our world. That's what Christmas celebrates: Love came down and became flesh when we were utterly powerless to save ourselves.

Beyond Human Love

The passage continues with a striking observation: "Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die." Human love has its limits. We love ourselves, our families, our friends—our circles of love expand to varying degrees. Some might even sacrifice for their nation or community.

But we certainly wouldn't lay down our lives for our enemies. We're not even capable of truly loving everyone, despite what we might tell ourselves. The opposite of love isn't hate—it's indifference. It's not caring, not thinking about someone at all.

This is what makes God's love so incomprehensible, so beyond measure. While we were still God's enemies, He died for us. Jesus went to the cross not just for saints but for sinners. Not just for the strong but for the weak. Not just for the lovable but for those who are completely unlovable.

God doesn't love us because of who we are. He loves us because of who He is. God IS love. And when we doubt His love—when we question why He allows suffering or difficulty in our lives—we need only look at the cross. The shame, the suffering, the sacrifice He endured proves His love once and for all. It's not based on our worthiness; it's rooted in His character.

From the Manger to the Cross to the Empty Tomb

Christmas is just the beginning of the love story. That baby born in Bethlehem came to bear the sins of the world. Interestingly, the manger where He was laid and the cross where He died were likely made from similar wood—the common wood that grew in that region. One was a feeding trough for animals, symbolizing how there was no room for Him among people. The other became a torture device that has transformed into the ultimate symbol of life.

But the story doesn't end at the cross. Romans 5 moves from justification through His blood to transformation through His resurrection: "How much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!"

Love doesn't just forgive—it transforms. Christ didn't only save us FROM something (God's wrath); He saved us FOR something (relationship with Him). The word Paul uses for "reconciled" means to exchange hostility for peace. We were enemies of God, but through Jesus Christ, we've been brought near, brought into a place of peace with our Creator.

A Present Reality

This isn't just theology or a future promise. It's a present reality—a living relationship with Jesus Christ through the Holy Spirit dwelling within us. And that is why we can rejoice.

It's one thing to rejoice in the gifts God gives us. It's quite another to rejoice in who God is. Advent reminds us not only of what God gave (His Son) but of who God is: Love itself. He lowered Himself to become flesh, to live among us, to experience our humanity fully.

This doesn't mean life suddenly becomes easier. But it means that God, who loved us when we were unlovable, now dwells in us, with us, and through us. That changes everything.

Sacrificial, Not Sentimental

When we light that candle of love, we must remember that God's love is not a sentimental greeting card moment. It's sacrificial. It's not earned but given. It's not fleeting but eternal.

Because of that sacrificial love, the helpless can find hope. The sinner can find grace. The enemy can find peace. We were the unlovable, the hostile enemies of God, and yet He died for us.

This weary world can rejoice because Love came down. Not an abstract concept of love, but Love incarnate—God in flesh, born in a manger, living a perfect life, dying on a cross, and rising from the dead to defeat sin and death forever.

Living in Light of Love

As we celebrate Christmas, we're called to remember this extraordinary love and let it transform how we live. We love because we were first loved. Our love for others should reflect—however imperfectly—the sacrificial nature of Christ's love for us.

This Christmas, as you gather with loved ones and exchange gifts, remember the greatest gift: a love that came for the unloved, a love that reconciled enemies, a love that transforms powerless sinners into children of God.

That's the love at the center of it all. That's the love burning bright at the heart of Advent. That's the love worth celebrating, not just at Christmas, but every single day.

Michael Stotler