Luke 2:15-20

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us." So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

If you were here earlier tonight, you know I used some pictures and stories as inspiration for my children’s sermon with the kids.

There was this one of a dad who had a cochlear implant tattooed on his scalp so that his daughter wouldn’t feel so different, or alone, because of her need for a real cochlear implant as a child.

And there was this guy, who climbed up on stage at the ballet, when his little girl had a meltdown before her recital. He saved the day by going through the motions and doing all the moves, right along with her, in the end.

And all of that was about talking to the kids about the lengths God would go to – and did – in the coming of Jesus, to be like us; to look like us; to live and move and breathe like us; to be vulnerable and to take risks and to show us love that the whole world could see.

And with all of that in mind, I saw a commercial that took it all to another level which might have been a little much for the little ones at the earlier services on Christmas Eve, but that I thought would be okay for a more serious and grown-up sermon at 11 p.m. It’s a commercial for J & B Whiskey where, just like those real-life dads, there’s a grandfather with a lesson to teach about Christmas, too, I think.

This commercial made me think about Christmas – not just because of the lights and the food and the family gathering and the whiskey. All of this made me think about Christmas because, just like those dads, what that grandfather did for his grandchild is very much like what God does, in Jesus, for the sake of the world.

…not just learn to put on make-up, of course. Or dress up in different clothes.

But he goes out of his way to try to see and to learn and to understand and to embody what would matter so much for this child that he loves.

… to become like him, enough, to understand how to help, encourage, love and reveal the fullness of his humanity to others – and to himself.

… to show him, with tangible actions and visible means of grace, what love looks like, in the flesh, with no strings attached…

... to became like him, enough, just to show him the ropes…

… to risk becoming vulnerable himself, so that the child could be brave and vulnerable, too.

Again, for my money, all of that is exactly what God does, in Jesus, for all of us, at Christmas.

Max Lucado, describes the incarnation of Jesus in a way I’ve always liked. He says that “the One who played marbles with the stars gave it up to play marbles with marbles. … the One who hung the galaxies gave it up to hang doorjambs ...”

He says that God “went from needing nothing to needing air, food, a tub of hot water, and salts for his tired feet…

“…that he resisted the urge to fry the two-bit, self-appointed hall monitors of holiness who dared suggest that he was doing the work of the devil.

“…that he refused to defend himself when blamed for every sin of every slut and sailor since Adam…

“…that he stood silent as a million guilty verdicts echoed in the tribunal of heaven…”

God did all of that for me… for you… for the sake of the whole wide world that God loves.

Nadia Bolz-Weber describes the incarnation of Christ – the coming of God in Jesus – by saying that God’s “loving desire to be known overflowed the heavens and became manifest in the rapidly dividing cells inside the womb of an insignificant peasant girl in First Century Palestine. This is a God who slipped into skin and walked among us full of grace and truth with sand between his toes; and who ate with all the wrong people; and who kissed lepers and touched the unclean and spoke through thirsty women and hungry men and who, from the cross, didn’t lift a finger to condemn the enemy, but instead said ‘I would rather die than be in the sin-accounting business anymore.’”

God did all of that for me… for you… and for the sake of the world.

Yours Truly likes to think that, in the birth of Jesus, God chooses to own all of our brokenness, all of our flaws, all of our weakness. All of our sins and sickness … the things that embarrass or scare or shame us the most … God gathers it all together in the simple shape and form of a person just like you and me … someone we could look at and see; someone we could listen to and laugh with; someone whose hand we could shake and whose shoulder we could cry on…

And in Jesus, then, God shows us how to walk around in our own flawed but forgiven skin; in our own weak but redeemable flesh; in our own sick and dying but healing and heaven-bound souls.

And, in Jesus – the Word made flesh – we’re invited to see, too, that what the world calls “flawed’ may not be; what the world deems “weak” may be exactly the opposite; what the world sees as “broken” may be just precisely as God designed it to be.

And, in Jesus, God teaches us to be humble because of that; and vulnerable and brave; and full of faith and hope and love enough so that we might embody some measure of this grace and good news for someone else who needs it, too.

Maybe that means getting a tattoo or dancing on stage or putting on make-up. Who knows?

Maybe it means being generous; or confessing our sins; asking for forgiveness; or extending mercy to someone who could use it, just as much.

Maybe it means making peace with our enemy or loving our neighbor as our self.

Maybe it means simply recognizing the blessed and beloved humanity in someone because they are God’s child … and so are we … and giving thanks that Christ the Savior is born to prove that for us all.

Amen. Merry Christmas.

Luke 2:8-14

In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for see -- I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger." And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!"

I always try to have a little fun on Christmas Eve so when I came across these pictures last week, I couldn’t resist. They’re pictures people have taken of their babies – presented something like those Pinterest “before and after” pics of things people have tried to make, bake or craft that didn’t quite turn out as much like the original as they had planned. You’ve seen those, right? Something like this:

where the reality doesn’t quite live up to the expectations of the very well-intentioned, wannabe chef who made it.

Anyway, someone did the same with baby pictures … put together a compilation of photos that parents tried to recreate with their kids, but that didn’t turn out quite like they hoped. The reality of it all didn’t quite match the expectation.

Of course, it was the baby factor that made me think of Christmas when I saw these the first time around. But the more I thought about the difference between the “expectation” and the “reality” that the coming of Jesus is supposed to mean for us, the more relevant and meaningful these pictures seem to be for where we find ourselves tonight – at least with regard to the coming of this savior we’ve gathered to sing about, to celebrate, and to hope in.

Now, I don’t want to rain on this Christmas parade (or snow and slush and freeze all over this celebration, as the case may be), but I do think when we neglect or forget too much about the hard and holy reality of Jesus’ coming among us … and when we cling too tightly to the warm and fuzzy expectations the world has convinced us this should all be about, we miss something about the depth and meaning and greater purpose of it all.

In other words, it’s worth acknowledging that the reality of what shows up in Jesus may look different from what we’ve been trained and tricked to expect a lot of the time.

I mean, we’ve created a fairy tale out of Jesus’ birthday that probably wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, if we’re honest.

We sing “Away in a Manger” and pretend that the cattle are “lowing” but that the “little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes.” I don’t buy that for a minute. Did you see those pictures? Have you met a newborn? The notion of a peaceful, peepless Baby Jesus comes from a song, not from Scripture.

And we pretend that first Christmas wasn’t a logistical nightmare without a safe place for Mary to rest, sleep and give birth … so that she had to make it all happen in a food trough for animals. It’s hard to imagine God couldn’t do better by Mary and Joseph – lined up a bed and midwife or something – after all they had agreed to, don’t you think?

And poor, terrified, traumatized Mary. Our nativity sets and our Christmas cards turn her into a grown woman who was merely inconvenienced by all of this, rather than acknowledging the young, peasant girl that she was, whose body was likely broken and bloodied – in all the ways – by all she endured to meet this moment.

I don’t know and can’t imagine what Mary and Joseph were expecting when they got the news and started planning for this baby, this Jesus who was going to save his people from their sins, this Emmanuel – “God with Us” – who had been promised. But the reality of it all surely wasn’t something you’d include in the brochure, post on social media, or take pictures of for your annual Christmas greeting.

And all of that was just par for the course where Jesus was concerned and a foretaste of the feast to come, really. Because, the expectations of those who were waiting for a Messiah were nothing like what showed up in Jesus.

They longed for a powerful king and got a helpless baby. They hoped for a weapon-wielding warrior and got a pacifist’s prince of peace. They were looking for fine robes and got a bundle of swaddling cloths. They expected riches and got poverty. They thought he would come for a nation, and he showed up for the sake of the whole wide world. They were convinced his judgment would look like fear, not forgiveness; might, not mercy; hubris, not humility. You get the point.

So I’m here to suggest that our invitation tonight … our hope, this Christmas … might just be found, not in lowering our expectations, but in changing them altogether.

How might your life and our world be transformed if we expected to find God in the broken places more often? In the hospital room, at the nursing home, at the funeral home. Maybe we wouldn’t despair so easily, give up hope so quickly, lose faith so fast.

How might your life and our world be transformed if we expected to find God in the poor places from whence he came in the first place? I think less would become more for us all. Our generosity would come more naturally. We would find better, different, more faithful ways to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, house the homeless and all the rest.

How might things change if we listened to the “other” … the marginalized, the outsider, like Mary … more often? And what if we expected to hear there something about God’s hopes, dreams, and deepest desires? If Mary was right, then the lowly would be lifted up. The mighty would be cast down. Humility and grace and justice would rule the day. And we might be more inclined to help that happen.

And all of this is good news for you and me, too – this change in perspective when it comes to what God is up to at Christmas – because it means that when our own reality doesn’t measure up to our best intentions… when our own experience doesn’t live up to our greatest expectations… when things don’t go the way we hoped, planned for, dreamed of at every turn… we’re called to trust and to see that that’s precisely where, when, how and why God shows up at all.

… to restore relationships, to bring peace where there’s only been chaos, to find what seems so lost.

… to surprise us with love, to shower us with grace, to empower us with purpose.

… to shine light into the shadows, to turn sin into forgiveness, to bring life from death, even.

So, this Christmas and in the days to come, let’s stop looking for God only in what seems picture perfect, pretty, prosperous or powerful and then being disappointed when we don’t find what we expect there. That was never God’s promise.

Instead, let’s look for God where God has always been, in the lost, lonely and broken places – of our lives and in this world – and let’s remember that that’s where God does God’s best work.

It’s into those places that Christ comes. It’s those imperfect people – like you and me – for whom God’s light shines. It’s in those hard, holy moments of our hard, holy, harried lives where faith, hope and love abide, in spite of ourselves … but always by God’s grace … made known, in the flesh, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen. Merry Christmas.

What God Won't Do

Christmas Expectations vs. Reality