Sermon 12/24/2019 “The Story”
Preacher: Jo J. Belser
Location: Church of the Resurrection at Virginia Theological Seminary, Alexandria, VA
Text: Luke 2:1-20
Day: Christmas Day II
Surely tonight’s gospel lesson is one of the best-known stories, at least in our country, if not all around the world, at least up to today. And yet, as many times as we have heard tonight’s gospel lesson, we want to hear again about the birth of God into our world.
We NEED to hear this God-story again. Why? Tonight’s the night that hope is born anew. Not just in a manger in ancient Palestine, but here with us, here in our community, and here in our hearts.
Let’s start with the baby: a boy. We don’t know why, except a male Messiah had been prophesied by prophets 700 years before. Isaiah, for example, foretold:
“Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son and shall name him Immanuel [God with us].” (7:14)
Fortunately, the baby’s MOTHER hadn’t been pregnant all 700 years. Instead, all of CREATION had been groaning, waiting for this child to be birthed. Creation had been out of balance, tilting toward sin ever since humankind had broken right-relationship with God. But, at last, the “patch” to cure creation had been born.
But Baby Jesus isn’t just a “patch,” he’s the NEW creation. But tonight, he’s a newborn baby, wrapped in bands of cloth and sleeping in an animal’s feeding trough. How could creation have known THIS ONE—Jesus—is the one? Surely, no one will even notice such a lowly child as this.
Except, there was an unusual light over the place where the baby and his parents were sheltered. The light was a bright new star—the one the child’s stepfather Joseph had used for guidance when returning to his ancestral hometown of Bethlehem. There had been no losing his way on this trip. It had seemed to Joseph that the whole cosmos had colluded to ensure they arrived in Bethlehem before the child was born.
Joseph hadn’t planned to go to Bethlehem. He and Mary lived in Nazareth, some 90 miles away, a grueling seven-day trip in Mary’s condition. But the Emperor had decreed that everyone who had King David as their ancestor go to Bethlehem for his census.
This had been a big problem. Jews were forbidden by their Law from participating in censuses. But the Emperor had decreed that EVERYONE participate, something about a more accurate count. “More accurate taxation,” Joseph thought. But he had to go. By the time Joseph gave up trying to get out of the trip, he and Mary had to leave in such a hurry they left the baby’s clothes behind—such as they could afford. So, here they were, the baby wrapped in rags. But surely no one would ever know, would they?
Except the baby began to receive all kinds of visitors, practically from the moment he was born. First, the animals. They all gathered around the baby, every single one from the stable they were in, and others, besides.
Mary and Joseph were worried at first that the animals would think the baby was food because he was in their feeding trough. But no, the animals seemed drawn to Jesus, as if to warm and protect him They were so calm around the baby, so attentive under the bright sky, that Jesus’ parents relaxed about the animals’ presence.
Then the innkeeper appeared. I’ll bet you don’t know THAT part of the story. The innkeeper brought food for Mary and Joseph and said he was very sorry to have had to send them to the stable. He was very surprised when the baby woke and smiled at him. The innkeeper had had so many children of his own he KNEW just-born babies only had reflex smiles. However, he was so surprised and pleased—strangely warmed—by the baby’s smile he bowed low to the babe, who then waved his hand as if in absolution. That couldn’t be, could it?
All right; I admit I don’t know for SURE the innkeeper visited the baby in the stable. This isn’t in the story we know. But everyone ELSE visited the baby that night; the innkeeper would have had to have been very hard-hearted to resist the pull this infant so obviously exerted on everyone nearby.
For instance, shepherds arrived, the shepherds who tended the purest lambs, the lambs destined to be sacrificed on the Temple altar. These shepherds were in AWE of the baby, and each knelt before him and began to sing wondrous songs. Even their SHEEP bleated along. Joseph asked the shepherds where they had learned to sing so well and had learned the song they were singing.
That’s when the shepherds told them about having been visited by a whole skyful of angels who had sung this song, “Alleluia.” The shepherds, who knew such things about their sheep, insisted the sheep believed this baby’s existence would somehow let them live, would somehow take their place.
At these words, suddenly the whole heavens began to resonate right there over the manger. Mary and Joseph thought they saw the baby join in the singing, but even they knew that newborns don’t—can’t—sing; do they, can they? But the question became moot because even THEY began singing the alleluia song.
That’s the story, at least the story of Jesus’ birth. As the child matured, people everywhere continued to be drawn to him. People saw and felt in Jesus the perfection of humanity and the hope that the harmony of creation would be restored. Then, they realized that Jesus was and is the Christ, the one in whom God is revealed, the One foretold so long before his birth.
Jesus was MAGNETIC. Aren’t YOU drawn to Jesus? You know his story, know what happened to him later. The only ones NOT drawn to him were those who feared he would somehow take away the power they had accumulated for themselves at the expense of others—the ones who LIKED or profited from creation being out of balance.
The others, though, those good and just people, those living on the margins of society, powerless people, ill people, children, women, tax collectors, eunuchs—even powerful and rich people who saw the light—all these, people like you and me, all these people were and still are drawn to Jesus.
The story doesn’t end even there, though. While Jesus was with us in this life he said, “I go to prepare a place for you.” (John 14:2) And he promised he would return, not as a newborn baby, but at the end of time, when we are ready (or not) to be with him.
Alleluia! Unto us
a child is born,
O come, let us adore him. Alleluia!
