Glory Proclaimed

When we think about the Christmas story, it’s easy to picture a quiet moment—soft hay, a still night, a newborn baby lying in a manger. But Scripture shows us that the birth of Jesus was anything but quiet. It was intentional, orchestrated, and meant to be proclaimed.

Luke 2 reminds us that Jesus entered the world at a very specific time and place. A Roman emperor issued a census. A governor was in office. A young couple was forced to travel. On the surface, it looked like political bureaucracy—but behind it all was the hand of God. That census moved Mary and Joseph exactly where prophecy said the Messiah would be born: Bethlehem. Hundreds of years earlier, the prophets had already named the location, the timing, and the kingdom under which Jesus would arrive. This wasn’t coincidence. It was confirmation.

God went to great lengths to show us that this moment mattered.

And then heaven broke the silence.

Angels—God’s messengers—appeared to shepherds in the fields, declaring good news of great joy for all people. Glory lit up the night sky. Heaven proclaimed what earth had just received. And the shepherds couldn’t help themselves. Once they saw Jesus, they spread the word about everything they had been told—and everyone who heard it was amazed.

Why did they proclaim it so boldly?

Because everything was exactly as promised.

You see this pattern throughout Scripture. God speaks, and God fulfills. What He says comes to pass—every time. From prophecy to history, from creation to resurrection, His glory is always worthy of proclamation.

Creation itself testifies to this truth. Scripture tells us that God’s invisible attributes—His power and divine nature—are clearly seen through what He has made. From the vastness of the universe to the complexity of the human body, God has left fingerprints everywhere. Near and far, seen and unseen, His glory is on display.

And then there are the prophecies fulfilled in Jesus’ life: the miracles, the healings, the raising of the dead, the exact words spoken before events unfolded. A colt tied where He said it would be. A denial predicted and fulfilled. A resurrection on the third day. Even the coming of the Holy Spirit—all just as it was told.

So when Jesus later rebuked His disciples for unbelief, it wasn’t because they lacked evidence. It was because belief was always meant to lead to obedience. After correcting them, He gave them a command: go. Go into all the world. Preach the gospel. Proclaim the glory of God.

And they did.

Despite fear, doubt, and confusion—even when some were of “two minds”—they went. They proclaimed His glory until the message reached the entire known world. Why? Because once you truly see Jesus for who He is, silence is no longer an option.

This calling didn’t end with them.

Proclaiming His glory is meant to be our life story.

If you’ve ever wondered about your purpose, Scripture makes it clear: helping to change the eternal destiny of human souls matters more than anything else. When we accept that calling, God shapes a unique plan for each of us to live it out. The question becomes simple—but challenging: are we making excuses, or are we making disciples?

And if the message itself isn’t enough to move us, we need only look to the garden.

Before the cross, Jesus knelt in agony. He prayed until His sweat fell like drops of blood. He wrestled with the weight of what was coming—and still chose obedience. He fought for our souls. That alone makes His glory worthy of proclamation.

Especially now.

During the holiday season, hearts are often more open. People are more willing to listen, to attend church, to ask questions about faith. What better time to invite someone, to share hope, to tell the story that changed everything?

Jesus came to be revealed. Heaven announced it. The shepherds shared it. The disciples carried it forward.

Now it’s our turn.

Proclaiming His glory should be our life story.