Sermons

A Humbling Evening

Here are some samples of kids’ letters to Santa:

Dear Santa, I’m sorry, but I don’t have a chimney . . . I’ll leave the cat flap unlocked for you, but please watch out for the litter box!

Dear Santa, Did you really run over my grandma?

Dear Santa, I’m sorry for putting all that Ex-lax in your milk last year, but I wasn’t sure if you were real. My dad was really mad.

Speaking of reindeer, did you know that all the reindeer that pull Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve have to be females? Think about it for a moment. According to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, both male and female reindeer grow antlers in the summer each year. However, male reindeer lose their antlers at the beginning of winter, usually late November to mid‑December. Female reindeer, on the other hand, retain their antlers till after they give birth in the spring.

We should have known . . . only women would be able to drag a fat man in a red velvet suit all around the world in one night and not get lost.

This is the grandest night of the year. This is a night for pure, unadulterated joy. How can you be a cynic on Christmas Eve? How can you be a Grinch? It doesn’t get any better than this. Families getting together, children fidgeting with wide-eyed expectancy, churches filled for candle-lit services. The music, the flowers, the trees, the decorations, the well-wishes and the hugs.

Christmas Eve. A humble couple awaits the birth of their first son in a stable in Bethlehem. Overhead, angels sing glory to God in the highest. This is faith at its most basic. This is hope at its most triumphant. On this night of nights we focus on the joy that the babe in Bethlehem brought into the world.

“Oh, little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie . . .” It is appropriate that Christ should be born in this small town which lies about six miles outside of Jerusalem. Bethlehem had a long history. It was there that Jacob buried his beloved Rachel, and had set up a pillar of memory beside her grave. It was there that the faithful daughter-in-law Ruth lived when she married Boaz and from Bethlehem Ruth could see the land of Moab, her native land, across the Jordan valley.

But above all Bethlehem was the home of David, the man after God’s own heart, the great king of Israel. Joseph, of course, was a descendant of David. The prophet Micah foretold that the Messiah would be born in the city of David, Bethlehem (Micah 5:2).

This is part of the romance of Christmas. Christ wasn’t born in Caesar’s household. He wasn’t even born in the holy city of Jerusalem. He was born in the little backwater town of Bethlehem, which means “house of bread.”  And he wasn’t born to an elite family. He was born to a poor couple, a couple who had to make a laborious journey almost to the very time of his birth. And he was born in a stable because there was no room for them in the inn. His crib was a rough trough from which cattle fed. Millions of poor and weary people around our globe find hope for their lives from the story of Christ’s birth. It would not be the same if he had been born in a palace.

Some of you might remember a scene in the old movie, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Jones is in search of the Holy Grail, believed to be the cup that Jesus used during the Last Supper. It was said that the Holy Grail gave eternal life to whoever drank of it.

There is a villain, of course, a greedy antiquities dealer. Indy, after many harrowing adventures, arrives at the room where the cup is kept, followed closely by the villainous dealer. A knight, miraculously kept alive by the power of the Grail from the time of the crusades, has hidden the Grail among many false cups. There were large cups, small cups, fancy cups and plain cups, every kind of cup imaginable was present.

The knight warns them that drinking from the true Grail will bring them everlasting life, but drinking from a false Grail will bring them death. The antiquities dealer assumes that, since Jesus was a king, the cup he would use would be an opulent golden chalice encrusted with jewels. So he rushes forward and drinks from that cup. As soon as he drinks from it, though, he knows he has chosen incorrectly. And his end is not pleasant. Indiana Jones is much wiser. He recognizes that a plain cup with no decoration is much more representative of the humble carpenter from Nazareth. And, of course, he’s right.

At the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem there is a door so low that one has to stoop to enter it. Through the door, on the other side of the wall, is the church. Beneath the high altar of the church there’s a little cavern about fourteen yards long and four yards wide lit by silver lamps. In the floor there is a star, and round it a Latin inscription: “Here Jesus Christ was born of the Virgin Mary.”

William Barclay writes, “When the Lord of Glory came to this earth, he was born in a cave where men sheltered the beasts. There is something beautiful in the symbolism that the church where the cave is has a door so low that all must stoop to enter. It is supremely fitting that every man should approach the infant Jesus upon his knees.”

This is not a night for pretentiousness. It is not a night for congratulating ourselves on how successful we have become or how many beautiful presents we will give or receive. This is a night for bowing in humility before the cradle of one who gave up everything on our behalf. And this is a night for receiving his peace and love. Christ emptied himself completely when he came into our world. Some of you are in pain this night. He has been in pain as well. Know that, as you bow before the manger.

One of the annual Christmas television specials that brightens up the season is a Charlie Brown Christmas. In this show Charlie Brown directs a Christmas play and hunts for the perfect tree and Linus expounds on the true meaning of Christmas.

When the special was first shown, the folks at CBS were concerned that the use of actual Bible quotes in the episode would turn off viewers. Imagine that: Religion intruding into a Christmas special! But Peanuts creator Charles Schulz was insistent. And so Linus recites from the Gospel of Luke, telling the same story we heard tonight. There is something I hope you noticed in the show. Linus, who was famously attached to his security blanket, lets go of it when he tells the story of Jesus’ birth.

And why shouldn’t he? Here is our security. Here is our peace, our hope, our joy. God has come into our world in the babe of Bethlehem. And so we sing for joy on this night of nights! Something incredible happened in our world two thousand years ago. A babe was born to a humble couple, a babe who makes it possible for us to know and to love God.

Joy to the World. The Lord has come. Have a blessed and joyous Christmas.