Saturday, December 25, 2021

Sermon for 12/25/21: The Nativity of Our Lord

Underwhelming Glory
Micah 5:2-5a

 

Grace to you and peace from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Amen. 

 

The half-century of peace that was the subject of the scathing preaching of the prophet Amos was coming to an end. The security and wealth which marked that age were seen by many in Israel as signs of the favor of the Lord. But the prophets were not fooled. They rightly knew them to be the marks of corruption and the evidence of a people who had forsaken their love for God. Israel, the northern half of the divided kingdom, would fall, never to rise again. Then the Assyrian hordes would sweep southward. Micah warned Judah and Jerusalem to prepare for an attack. Judah would be left weak and destitute. Never again would Judah rise to the prominence it had previously known. All that was left of a once great nation was a “stump of Jesse:” the royal family of King David.

The prophets foretold that, at such a time of deep humiliation and degradation, the Messiah would come! His birthplace would be Bethlehem Ephrathah—Bethlehem the “fruitful one.” Bethlehem had a noble history. Benjamin, the last of twelve sons of Jacob, was born there; Rachel was buried there. Ruth gleaned the fields of Boaz at Bethlehem, and her great-grandson David was born there. And yet, Bethlehem had remained only a small village.

How like God this is! And how thoroughly unlike us. We wouldn’t have done it this way. We wouldn’t have had Jesus born in a third-rate village with more sheep than by people. How do you publicize such a thing as this? That’s not how we would do it. We want everybody in the world to know about us; that’s why Facebook and other social media are so popular. But that is not God’s way. Oh, He publicized the coming of His Son. That was what His prophets were doing. But not very many listened to them. St. John says that Jesus “came to His own, but His own did not receive Him.” Perhaps they were offended that God didn’t make a bigger deal of the birth of the Messiah. “That’s not the way our Messiah is supposed to come. Where is the glory? Where are all the fantastic signs and wonders? Where are the adoring crowds? Why—if it happened at all—why was the angelic announcement made to a few shepherds? Why was the ‘upper crust’ left out?”

You might almost think that God is hiding something. Well, that is precisely what He is doing. As Mary sang, “He has cast down the mighty from their thrones and has exalted the lowly.” God sends His Savior in a way that He remains hidden. And this is a necessary act of grace. If we were to be confronted with the Son of God in the fullness of His deity, without being hidden behind human flesh, we would be utterly destroyed. The irony of it all is that this is exactly what we want. We want the big and the spectacular; we think that proves the presence and favor of God. We look with covetous eyes on those whose supposed blessings overflow, because we assume that the favor of God rests there.

Let’s be honest: we are offended by a God who seems to be able to do so little for us. The Savior of the world was not even born in a respectable bed. It doesn’t really come as much of a surprise to us, then, that He seems powerless to cure our diseases, to heal our broken relationships, or straighten out our wayward nation. At least, that’s how it seems. But access to God is not found in the spectacular; it is found in the humble; it is found in that still, small, almost imperceptible voice where God speaks His Word and will.

 Unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you: ye shall find the Babe"--not in a palace, not on a jewel encrusted throne--"wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger." That still, small voice was heard by a mere handful of shepherds. It was given to no one else. But they knew it was the voice of God. It moved them to go and find the Babe in the most humble circumstances, where they recognized Him to be the Savior of the world. The scene was underwhelming. If you hadn’t been told, you wouldn’t have a clue. But that is how God works in grace. He doesn’t blast you with a loudspeaker; He doesn’t blind you with neon lights. He underwhelms you with water and Word; with bread and wine; with a Savior who rested in a manger. How like God to accomplish salvation in a way that we could never imagine, much less choose.

With that in mind, are you surprised that this world is not in the least bit impressed with you? After all, you serve a Lord with whom they are not impressed. The world refuses to see or care that there is but one access to the Kingdom of God: the still, small voice that speaks of a Savior who is born in utter humility so that He might die in the very same way; the still, small voice that directs us to water and Word.

How like God to underwhelm us into His kingdom! And that is the reason for Bethlehem: no one but God would ever do it this way. But because this is God’s way, it is the certain way. God’s way brings with it the peace that surpasses human understanding. And that’s exactly what Christmas is: the proclamation that Jesus has come to bring peace between God and man. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us;” and in Him, God and sinners are reconciled. In thanksgiving, “Let no tongue on earth be silent, every voice in concert ring evermore and evermore!” In the name of the Father and of the Son (†) and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

The peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus always.  Amen.

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