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Pastor Tyler Lynde continued our Advent series, Expecting, with a message he called Expecting to See God, walking us through Luke 2:8–20 and inviting us to recover the wonder of worship where it most often begins—in ordinary life. Tyler’s aim was simple and profound: that our eyes would be freshly opened to the glory of Jesus and that awe would once again become our natural response to God.

He began with a story from his early years of ministry, when a small congregation met in a repurposed bank building. A dad on the worship team had a young daughter on the autism spectrum who would sometimes wander toward the front during songs, brushing microphone cables and pressing keys out of tune. Some quietly wished it would stop. Then one morning everything changed. The girl grew still, turned away from the platform, lifted her eyes, and whispered, “Jesus, I see you. Jesus, I love you.” The room fell silent. Judgments dissolved. Tears rose. In that moment, as Tyler remembers it, the veil between heaven and earth thinned, and the congregation was led into adoration by the least likely worship leader in the room. It became a living parable for what followed in Luke’s account: God delights to reveal himself to the overlooked, and seeing him rightly reshapes the whole room.

Luke sets the scene: a hillside at night, shepherds doing what they always did. They were not in the temple, not engaged in a spiritual retreat, not seeking a vision—just working the night shift. In that culture, shepherds were often dismissed as ceremonially unclean and socially marginal. Yet heaven chose their hillside as a stage. Tyler lingered here because the contrast matters: revelation is not earned; it is received. Worship often begins in the ordinary places where we spend our days—around a table, on a job site, in a classroom, at church. God meets us amid the routine.

Into that deep darkness, an angel of the Lord appeared, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, turning night into day. We forget how dark that night would have been—no street lamps, screens, or ambient glow. Just oil lamps, perhaps a small fire, stars overhead. Then sudden radiance. The shepherds’ shock tells the truth about worship: the presence of God is awe-inspiring and humbling. Healthy fear is not dread; it is reverence that opens the heart to joy. Tyler connected this moment to Isaiah’s long night and promise: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light” (Isaiah 9:2). After four centuries of prophetic silence, light bursts into the story again. Awe comes first. Then the angel speaks, Fear not. Reverence and reassurance, held together.

The announcement is precise and overflowing with hope: good news of great joy for all the people. A Savior is born, who is Christ the Lord. Tyler slowed us down to let those titles do their work. Savior speaks to our most urgent need. We don’t require minor adjustments; we need rescue from sin and the judgment it deserves. Jesus saves by becoming sin for us, that in him we might become the righteousness of God (2 Corinthians 5:21). Christ means the Anointed One, the Messiah empowered by the Spirit to do the Father’s will. In his first public reading, Jesus declared, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor… liberty to the captives… sight to the blind… the year of the Lord’s favor” (Luke 4:18–19). Lord proclaims his deity and sovereign reign. He is not only our friend and guide; he is King of kings. Every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. Taken together, these titles explain why Christian worship centers on Jesus: he alone saves, he alone is anointed to heal and restore, and he alone rules with divine authority.

Then heaven widened the frame. A multitude of the heavenly host appeared, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased.” Tyler called this an open heaven—thousands of angels filling the sky, the unseen realm suddenly visible. Their song teaches the right order for worship: glory up, then peace down. When our singing turns inward and consumer-minded, we lose the wonder and the weight. Worship is not about me; it’s about exalting him. As we lift God’s glory to the highest place, peace comes down in the right way and to the right address—those who receive the Son by faith. Peace with God arrives through justification by faith, not the works of our hands. “Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans 5:1). And peace with God then opens the way for the peace of God to rest on restless hearts. The manger, Tyler reminded us, points to the cross. The old sacrifices could only cover sin; the Lamb of God removes it. The Messiah is both the Good Shepherd and the sacrificial Lamb, reconciling us to the Father.

Tyler also helped us hear how our worship on earth harmonizes with heaven’s ongoing chorus. Every time we praise, we join a song already in progress: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain… to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing” (Revelation 5:9–13). That vision steadies our perspective. Though we rightly remain alert to spiritual opposition, we remember that two-thirds of the angels did not fall, and that Christ has already triumphed at the cross. The supernatural is not a sideshow; it is the deeper current of reality. Worship roots us in that reality.

The shepherds model what it looks like to respond to revelation. They do not sit back and savor the spectacle; they go with haste. They heard, they hurried, they beheld, and they told. Their movement is simple and timeless: take God at his word, move toward Jesus, behold him as promised, and share what you have seen so others can wonder too. When they found Mary and Joseph and saw the child lying in a manger, they made known what had been told them concerning this child, and all who heard it marveled. Mary treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned to their fields transformed, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. Tyler invited us to recover this rhythm of renewal. Don’t settle for an experience about God when you can have God himself. Receive the word, go to Jesus in prayer and community, behold him in Scripture and sacrament, and let awe turn into testimony.

If worship has felt thin, Tyler suggested the issue is not volume or style but sight. When our view of Jesus is dim, our worship starves. Lift your eyes. Ask for holy fear that leads to joy. Let Scripture expand your view: Jesus is Savior, Christ, and Lord; the good news is of great joy for all people; glory belongs to God in the highest, and peace is given to those he has made his own. Create quiet in your week so revelation can break into routine—turn down the noise, step outside under the night sky, and remember the God who still speaks. Expect to see God in the ordinary places: at your dinner table, in your workplace, in the classroom, in the neighborhood, among friends and family. As the story of the little girl in Tyler’s former church reminds us, God loves to unveil his presence through the overlooked and the unexpected. Don’t rank worthiness; welcome wonder.

In the end, the story of Christmas does not stop at a stable. The cradle leads to the cross, and the cross opens a reconciled relationship that we now live by faith. Having been justified, we have peace with God. As we abide in Christ, we learn the peace of God that guards our hearts and minds. When life crowds us with bad news, this is still good news for all people. The light still breaks into the night. And as we align our hearts with “Glory to God in the highest,” we become humble carriers of “peace on earth.”

Tyler closed by returning to Isaiah, perhaps the very words some shepherd once heard as a child in synagogue and then saw fulfilled on that Bethlehem night: “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6). This is the one we are expecting in this season—expecting to hear, to know, to feel, and, yes, to see. When we see him as he is, awe displaces fear, joy rises, and worship becomes our most natural response. May we, like the shepherds, go with haste toward Jesus, make known what we’ve seen, and return to our ordinary places glorifying and praising God for all we have heard and seen, just as it has been told to us.