Sermon Tone Analysis

Introduction

Good morning, everyone!

Christ has been born!

Wait for, “Let us praise him!”

As you’ve already been told, my name is David.

I’m a missionary from Texas.

My wife and I live in the beautiful city of Lviv with our dog… no kids yet, but we’ll have 'em when God gives ‘em!

I love the “fine city” of Ternopil—it's close to Lviv, and I have many friends here.

More than that, my mother-in-law had both of her hips replaced in your hospital here, so I’m very thankful for this city.

All of that to say, thank you for the invitation to preach here today.

I wrote this sermon for a woman that I met in Czechia, a refugee from Donbas that now lives in the EU.

I like to think of real people when I write sermons, as it helps me to think more compassionately when I write.

She and I were talking about prayer, and she said the worst thing a Baptist could hear—“I’ve stopped praying,” she said, “With all of this tragedy and evil and death, which we all prayed against and are still praying, there must be something wrong with us, with prayer, or with God, so I’ve stopped praying.”

Can you feel her pain?

Haven’t you asked the same questions?

Why does God allow all of this suffering and evil?

How could God “up there” understand all of what we are going through?

Why doesn’t He do something?

I hope to provide at least a partial answer to these questions, though they be hard questions indeed.

I think you'll find that, if you look closely, you'll see Jesus as more than just a baby in a manger today, but as the God that suffers with us, even during this war in Ukraine.

The passage where we’ll see those answers is in Matthew 2, so please open your Bibles or cell phones to that passage.

I know that this is a chapter that is normally read around Christmas, but this is not a Christmas sermon.

The events in this passage occurred several months after Luke 2. Jesus is already a very small child, growing up in Bethlehem, when the magi come to see him.

We’re not going to read the part where they give him gifts of gold, silver, and myrrh—I think we’re all probably familiar with that.

Instead, we’ll read how after that Jesus’ early childhood was filled with turmoil, uncertainty, and instability.

My beloved Ukrainians, does that sound familiar?

That’s our whole world today.

Body

Let's pray before we begin the sermon and read the first passage of scripture.

Father, thank You for the opportunity to share the things that You have shown me in Your Word.

Please speak through me—may we hear Your heart, Your truth, Your Gospel, and may we all be changed to be more like Your Son, Jesus.

We do not deserve this help, which is why we pray in His Name.

Amen.

Jesus knows what it’s like to be a refugee in a foreign country (vs.

13-15)

Let's read vs. 13-15.

Now when they had departed, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Rise, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.”

And he rose and took the child and his mother by night and departed to Egypt and remained there until the death of Herod.

This was to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet, “Out of Egypt I called my son.” (Matthew 2:13–15, ESV)

Friends, did you know that Jesus was a refugee when he was a child?

He was, and His earliest memories may have been, not in his home town of Bethlehem—who remembers what happened when they were two years old—but of Egypt!

There’s a scene in the Chosen where Jesus speaks some Coptic (Egyptian)—He may have actually spoken a little of that language.

Even for a small child, though, this is hard, to be ripped up from the town, language, and culture where you were born and to run for your life to somewhere different, strange, and foreign.

It took me a while to accept this fact, but I realized that my whole family are refugees.

Since then, we’ve done our best to minister to refugees in Czechia and Poland while being there.

Different refugees left Ukraine for different reasons...

There are those that fled because of new opportunities (Ukrainian and Americans)—that's not what we did.

There are pastors that left their churches, abandoning the flock—that's not what we did.

There are those that fled from the front lines—that's not what we did.

Some of my friends were very offended when they heard that I took my family out of Ukraine on February 25th.

I want to give you the short version of what I told them.

First of all, I want to say, “I’m sorry.”

If you’ve been hurt by someone that left Ukraine because of this war, I’m sorry—please forgive all of us.

I struggled a lot with the idea of leaving, and the last thing I wanted was to hurt the church with that.

So, please forgive us for that pain.

Why did we leave, though?

Well, our church in Lviv was dying, and my wife and I had already been in the process of resigning from ministry for months before this attack.

In fact, on Feb 24, the church leadership team left, and we stayed one more day to help close down the church.

I took my family out of Lviv, because there’s a higher risk, a bigger target on my back as an American.

We prayed a lot, and we cried a lot, and we talked a lot about what the right thing to do was, but we finally left on the 25th.

We were in line for 62 hours—for three whole days, with five adults, two dogs, and a cat!—finally ending up in a small town just close enough to Ukraine to still serve in some way.

Friends, I left with a clear conscience before God and a commitment to keep serving Ukraine as best I could—as you can see, I’m here today.

As soon as I got my family safe and settled in the EU, we started bringing in humanitarian aid and serving refugees both in Lviv and there in Poland and Czechia.

That’s the short version of the story.

I still feel the pressure for leaving in February, and I have apologized for the pain that caused… but Jesus was a refugee—that was not a sin.

Friend, if you’re here or you’re watching online and you left a city in the East, don’t feel bad for getting your family to a safer place.

God commanded Joseph to do that for his family.

However, if you feel like you left with wrong motives or feel some kind of guilt, please read 1 John 1:9 “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

Once you’ve confessed and Jesus has forgiven you, then read Philippians 3:13-14 “Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own.

But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”

Live today, press forward, and be a Christian where you are now.

If Jesus was a refugee, then the simple fact that you are a refugee doesn’t bar your way to God or make you worth less than the person next to you.

And that’s the first lesson that we can see in this passage, that Jesus knows what it’s like to be a refugee in a foreign country (vs.

13-15).

But, my friends from Ternopil, I haven’t forgotten you!

You may be asking, “David—what about all of the rockets and constant threats that we face HERE in THIS country?

I’m not a refugee, but I feel like I’m under constant threat at home!”

Jesus knows what it’s like to be under threat of death (vs.

16-18)

Let's read about that in verses 16-18.

Then Herod, when he saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, became furious, and he sent and killed all the male children in Bethlehem and in all that region who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had ascertained from the wise men.

Then was fulfilled what was spoken by the prophet Jeremiah: “A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be comforted, because they are no more.”

(Matthew 2:16–18, ESV)

Thank God that, like the sirens that warn us about air raids, God sent an angel to warn Joseph to hide.

There was a real threat on Jesus’ life here.

Herod was a serial killer—he was constantly killing people for getting in his way.

Most of the time he was killing big, important political people, which is probably why this episode is not recorded in the history books.

Why does this happen, though?

Why does God allow the Bethlemite children to die at the hands of Herod’s soldiers?

As Suzanne de Dietrich, a French theologian of the 20th century, writes—“…the history of the People of God is all strewn with blood and tears.…

The rage of man is unfurled upon the Elect of God.…

Our own time has seen massacres equally shameless.

The testimony of the evangelist is that God nonetheless pursues the purpose of salvation.”

In other words, this is nothing new—this is what always happens, but God still works, still moves forward, still loves and saves mankind from their sinful hearts.

“But, David,” you say, “you didn’t answer my question.

Why does God allow them to die?”

If you’ll bear with me a little longer, we’ll talk about this at the end of the sermon.

However, the thing that I want to focus on now is that He knows our pain.

Do you see the parallel?

The soldiers that barely missed Jesus are at least somewhat like the rockets that barely missed your apartment.

That is the second lesson that we can see in this passage—Jesus knows what it’s like to be under threat of death (vs.

16-18).

What about those of us that left homes in the East, but are still here in Ukraine?

In Ukrainian you’re known as IDPs or “Internally Displaced Persons”.