Gloria Dei Lutheran Church

Today’s scripture readings: Numbers 6:22-27; Psalm 8; Galatians 4:4-7; Luke 2:15-21

There are a handful of numbers that occur repeatedly in scripture, which have taken on special significance. Twelve, for example. Twelve is the number of tribes of Israel, each tribe named after one of the sons of Jacob. If you’re a fan of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, you might even be able to name all twelve of them. The number appears over and over again in the book of Revelation, where we read that the new city of Jerusalem will have twelve foundations and twelve gates, and that the Tree of Life will produce twelve different kinds of fruit. In the story of the feeding of the five thousand, the gospels tell us there were twelve basketfuls of bread left over. And, of course, Jesus had twelve disciples. Anytime the number twelve appears in scripture, it seems we are supposed to think of all of Israel, to recognize that God is at work to bring healing and restoration to every tribe, to all the people.

And then there’s the number 40. In the days of Noah, scripture tells us it rained for 40 days and 40 nights. Moses’ life is presented in scripture in 40-year segments. He fled Egypt at the age of 40 and lived in Midian for 40 years until he met God at the burning bush. After delivering the people from slavery in Egypt, Moses’ ministry among the liberated Israelites lasted 40 years as the people wandered in the desert for 40 years. After Jesus’ baptism, he spent 40 days in the wilderness, during which time he proved himself to be faithful to God’s will even in the face of temptation, which is the reason the church’s observance of Lent lasts 40 days. And Jesus remained on earth for 40 days after his resurrection, preparing his disciples to continue his ministry in his absence, before he finally ascended into heaven once and for all.

And, of course, there’s the number seven, often considered to be the number of completion and perfection in scripture. Seven is the number of days in the week of creation. The work of creation took place over six days, and God rested on the seventh. Seven was a common number associated with Israel’s feasts. Both the Feast of Tabernacles and the Day of Atonement take place in the seventh month of the Jewish calendar. The jubilee—the time when slaves and prisoners were to be freed and debts forgiven—took place every 49 years, seven times seven.

A number that gets less attention but also carries deep significance is the number eight. As we read today in the Gospel lesson, newborn baby boys were to be circumcised and named on the eighth day. Whenever a leper believed themselves to be fully healed of their disease, they were supposed to go and present themselves to a priest, and the priest would declare them to be clean and restore them to the community on the eighth day. When Solomon’s temple was built, the people celebrated for seven days, and then the next day, the eighth day, the temple was dedicated; that was the day God’s presence filled the temple, when God became present to the people in a new way.

The number eight becomes especially important for Christians. Think about Holy Week, the final week of Jesus’ life. It begins with Palm Sunday and ends on Easter Sunday, Sunday to Sunday—not a week, actually, but eight days. Jesus, God made flesh, completes his work on the sixth day, Good Friday, the day he is put to death, and rests in the tomb on the seventh. The next day—the eighth day—is when the women arrive at the tomb and hear the news of resurrection.

In scripture, the eighth day is always a day of healing and restoration, of new beginnings, of reimagining what might be possible. All this time we’ve understood that life takes place in seven-day segments—one week at a time, on repeat forever. But the God who is always at work doing a new thing tells us to look for an eighth day, a day that ruptures the monotonous seven-day cycles of life as we’ve always known it to be.

+++

“After eight days had passed,” Luke tells us, “it was time to circumcise the child; and he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.” Readers who are clued into the significance of the “eighth day” in scripture might pause at this point to consider just what it is we have been told. It’s not just happenstance that Jesus is named on the eighth day, nor is the writer simply providing a chronology of Jesus’ earliest days. For one thing, we are to understand that Mary and Joseph were faithful Jews doing what the law commanded be done on the eighth day after their newborn boy’s birth. But even more, I think the writer is trying to tell us that what God is up to here in Jesus represents something completely new, a fresh start for God’s people, something that is a radical departure from life as we’ve known it.

The name “Jesus”—the name this baby boy is given on the eighth day—literally means “The Lord saves.” Of course, “saving the people” is what God has been up to from the very beginning. But as Jesus is named on the eighth day, we learn that God is doing something radically new and different. God’s work of salvation will come about through incarnation. God will save the people by becoming one of them—becoming one of us. Everything we thought we knew about God and how God works is out the window. No longer should we imagine that God is far off, indifferent to our joys and sorrows and our pain and suffering. Now God is one of us, which means that something entirely new is possible, that the future won’t look like an endless repetition of the past, week after week after hopeless week. This is the eighth day. God is doing a new thing.

+++

Since the beginning, Christian theologians have spoken of Sunday worship not as a gathering on the first day of the week but on the eighth day, the day of resurrection. We gather each week to be reminded that we are no longer constrained by the limitations of the past, as though every tomorrow is doomed to look like every day that has come before. Each and every Sunday, the eighth day, we ground ourselves in the promise that a new thing is possible, that God is indeed doing a new thing in our midst.

Have you ever noticed that baptismal fonts—including our own new baptismal font—are often octagonal in their design, with eight sides? Ada Joy will see it close-up here in just a few minutes, and I invite all of you, as you come forward for communion, to take a closer look yourselves. The octagonal design of the baptismal font is a reminder to all of us who have been washed in the waters of baptism that we have become a new creation, no longer defined by the past but drawn into a future marked by resurrection.

It seems a happy coincidence that this eighth day of Christmas always falls on January 1. Could there be a better day than New Year’s Day to pause to consider that our future is not defined by our past, that what always has been is not what always will be, that God is always doing a new thing, working salvation in our midst in new and unexpected ways? Dear friends in Christ, happy eighth day of Christmas, and may 2023 truly be a happy new year.

Resources consulted:

The Episcopal Church, “Eighth Day,” in An Episcopal Dictionary of the Church, accessed December 23, 2022, https://www.episcopalchurch.org/glossary/eighth-day/.

Joseph Gleason, “The Eighth Day,” on The Orthodox Life, published May 17, 2017, acccessed December 23, 2022, https://theorthodoxlife.wordpress.com/2017/05/17/the-eighth-day/.

Charles Lachowitzer, “The Eighth Day,” in The Catholic Spirit, published November 21, 2019, accessed December 23, 2022, https://thecatholicspirit.com/only-jesus/the-eighth-day/.

Timothy Teuscher, “The Eighth Day of the Week,” in The Canadian Lutheran, published April 19, 2022, accessed December 23, 2022, https://www.canadianlutheran.ca/the-eighth-day-of-the-week/.