Christmas Means Joy
Notes
Transcript
Life of the Church
Good morning everyone. It’s good to have you join us for worship in person or online. If you’re visiting us for the first time today, you’ll find a visitor card in the back of the chair right in front of you. Please fill that out and drop it in the offering plate when it passes to let us know you were here.
I have a few announcements before we get started this morning. First, you may have received a call on the phone tree this week about Sue and John. Both of them have tested positive for Covid. They are sick but somewhat better, so please keep them in your prayers.
Vonda was kind enough to spray the church this week, so everything in here is safe, but please, everybody, be careful. We all know the things we should do, and we’re all tired of doing them, but unfortunately Covid is still very much a part of our lives.
Our Lottie Moon Christmas offering is in full swing with a goal of $5,000 by the end of the month. Please give to that as you are led.
Our college/career friend of the week is Kristen Books. And our friend of the week is Vernie Angus, who also celebrated a birthday yesterday. Happy birthday, Ms. Angus.
Please make a special effort to reach out to both of them this coming week.
Also a reminder that we’re having family movie night this coming Friday at 7:00. We’ll be showing The Polar Express, and you can come in your pajamas.
Della, will you give us an update about some of our Christmas activities?
Our celebration ringers are up here today to help us stay in the Christmas spirit. Let’s enjoy hearing them play Hark the Herald Angels sing & Angels from the realms of glory.
Opening Prayer
Father we come to You during a season when we honor the birth of a baby, and in so doing acknowledge that You reached down to bless us all. To walk in the world as You once did in Eden in the form of a baby, in whose fragile body lay all the signs of sacrifice. Born in humility, growing into his kingdom as the promised one of scripture. We worship Jesus, our Savior and King, and we give thanks to You for this day in His name, Amen.
Our ringers will now play “While Shepherds Watched Their Flock”.
Opening Hymn
Our opening hymn this morning is #98 in your hymnals, “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.” Would you Please stand.
Advent Candle
On the third Sunday of Advent, we light the Shepherd Candle, which is the pink one, and is also known as the candle of joy. This candle reflects the joy that comes through Jesus’s arrival and the salvation he has gifted us.
The word “joy” appears more than 100 times in the Bible, and it’s a feeling that is essential to the Christian experience. No matter what happens in this dark world, we have a joy that cannot be taken away.
In Luke 2:8-14, we read:
And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with great fear.
And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths 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,
and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!”
And this is God’s word.
(LIGHT)
I’ll now invite the praise team (up) to sing “Mary’s Boy Child.”
Lottie Moon
As we prepare for our offertory we’d like to show you another powerful video about the important and extraordinary work funded by Lottie Moon.
Offertory Hymn
Our offertory hymn is #91 in your hymnals, “Silent Night.” Would you please stand.
Men’s Ensemble
Last week we were treated by a few of our ladies singing. This week, it’s the men’s turn. I’ll invite the men’s ensemble up now to sing, “We Three Kings.”
Sermon
Christmas means happiness. We’ve learned that in these past weeks, and we learned it’s a happiness that comes from God. It’s a happiness that doesn’t depend on our circumstances but depends upon where we’re planted.
And we’ve learned that Christmas also means love — the love of a God who loves completely and fully. A divine love that does what human love cannot, which is to bridge that divide between a holy God and sinful us.
On a certain level, it’s easy for us to understand those two things — happiness and love. They’re common feelings. For most of us, those are the emotions that define the Christmas season.
But there’s another emotion that isn’t so common to the world but reaches down into the very heart of what Christmas truly means, an emotion that only grows stronger and deeper the more we understand what the manger represents. A feeling represented by the candle we lit this morning — joy.
We don’t usually hear that word nowadays, do we? But come Christmas, that word “joy” is everywhere.
It’s on the Christmas cards we write and the television shows we watch and the advertisements we see. It’s not just “the season,” it’s “the joy of the season.”
In some important ways, that goes all the way back to the Nativity story itself. The word “joy” is woven all through the story of the birth of Christ.
What did the angel bring to the shepherds? Good tidings of great joy.
What did the wise men do when they saw the star? They rejoiced with exceeding great joy.
When she heard Mary’s voice, Elizabeth said her baby leaped in her womb for joy.
But what is it about joy that makes it so central to the Christmas story? How do we foster and grow that sense of joy in our own lives not just during this season, but in every season?
As it turns out, joy is all about understanding who Christ is, and what Christ means for you personally. And for that we turn to the prophet Isaiah.
Read with me today’s scripture, Isaiah chapter 9, verse 2 and then verses 5-6:
The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
on them has light shone.
Now down to verse 5:
For every boot of the tramping warrior in battle tumult
and every garment rolled in blood
will be burned as fuel for the fire.
For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
And this is God’s word.
If I were to ask how you came to Christ, if you were to sit with someone and tell them your conversion story, what would you say?
I have to answer for myself that I’ve always felt a little bad about this. You’ll often hear these beautiful and moving stories about how people had just found themselves lost in this world, chasing after all the wrong things.
They had hit some sort of bottom, whether mental or emotional or psychological. And just when their lives seemed to be at an end, just when all looked lost, God came in and saved them.
You’ll even hear stories that are almost miraculous, about people who have had actual encounters with God, supernatural encounters, that led them to turn away from trying to manage and control their own lives, and instead put their faith in Christ to manage and control their lives.
That’s largely not my story. My conversion story is actually pretty boring. In fact, it’s not really a story at all.
And I’m willing to bet the same can be said for most of the people here this morning. Because like me, you probably grew up in church. A lot of you probably grew up in this church.
You’ve spent your entire lives with Jesus in some way or another, learning about him at the kitchen table, praying to him before you went to bed, getting to know him in Sunday school and Bible school.
And sure, there was a moment in your life when you accepted Christ into your heart. There was a moment when you realized you were a sinner in need of a savior. But what was that moment? Was it a moment that’s as clear to you now as it was then? Or is it kind of fuzzy around the edges?
For me, it’s fuzzy. Jesus was just kind of always there. I grew up with him. And while that’s wonderful — absolutely wonderful — having a story like that can make it difficult to feel and know deeply the joy that Christ can bring.
Because let’s face it, we take Jesus for granted a lot of the time, don’t we? He’s familiar to us. We’re used to him.
We know all the things he said and the miracles he performed. We know about the cross and the empty tomb so well that beauty of it, the shock, the wonder, can get lost.
If you’re constantly exposed to it, even the extraordinary can become almost ordinary.
That’s a terrible thing, but it’s most terrible when it comes to the greatest miracle, and that is Christ himself. And this is a problem that’s uniquely American.
In most of the world, being a Christian involves a lot of risk. Sometimes that risk is social. Think of most places in Europe now, where being a Christian is looked down upon and where society is to a great extent a secular one.
But in many more places — China for instance, or North Korea, or portions of Indonesia, the Middle East, and Africa — being a Christian can very well cost you your life. If you’re a Christian there, you’re a target. You’re a danger.
But here in America, no matter what you might hear on television or read in the newspaper, the Christian worldview is still found everywhere. We can put signs in our yards and bumper stickers on our cars. We can tell people we’re praying for them. Our presidents openly invoke God.
In other words, we have it easy. Church attendance across the country is sagging not because people are afraid to worship God, but because they say they don’t have the time or the interest.
We’re spoiled. In fact, I’d say we’ve had it too easy, and that’s exactly the reason why so many of us look past the miracle of Christmas. It’s why so many of us are missing the joy.
Because here’s the thing: you cannot possess joy, you cannot know the joy of Christmas, until you’ve been in trouble. Until you’ve hit bottom and hurt in a way you never thought possible. Until you’ve found yourself utterly and completely shattered and all your hope is gone.
We read through the Bible and think that the way to God is through adopting the mind of Paul, or the heart of the apostles, or the wisdom of Solomon, or the faith of Moses.
And that’s true, but the clearest way to joy is when the voice of the Psalmists becomes our own: “Why, Oh Lord, do you stand far off? Wake up, O Lord. Why are you sleeping? How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?”
That’s the mindset of the Jewish people Isaiah is writing to here. Isaiah chapter 8 is all about judgment. It’s the gloom and despair of a coming invasion by the Assyrians.
But in the midst of this proclamation of death and conquering comes verse 2 here of chapter 9:
“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them a light has shone.”
Whether it’s a nation, a church, or a person, there are moments when God can only save when everything is darkest.
That’s when God appears, entering into our hearts right through the cracks. Isaiah is talking about the Jewish nation here, but he’s talking about us too.
This is a people who have walked in darkness. The word “walked” is the same as “lived.” It’s a picture of night covering not just a nation, but the lives of everyone in that nation.
God was sending the Assyrians as judgment upon Israel because the people had forgotten Him. They had diluted true faith in the one true God by adopting pagan rituals. They were rude. They were nasty in both their manners and their language.
It was a darkness that was made up not only of ignorance but also hardship. A land of deep darkness, Isaiah says. But a more accurate translation from the Hebrew is “the land of the shadow of death.”
Reminds you of Psalm 23, doesn’t it? “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.”
The idea is death casting a shadow across the land and becoming an image of ignorance, misery, and calamity.
But in that darkness breaks the dawn of a glorious day. The people have seen a great light, and in scripture light is a symbol of rejoicing, deliverance, and joy.
A new conqueror is coming, a kind that has never before been seen and will never be seen again. And this conqueror will put an end to darkness by the power of his light. He will defeat war with peace. He will vanquish hate with love.
The image Isaiah uses for this is in verse 5, and it’s some of the most violent but beautiful language in the entire Bible. Look at this verse:
“For every boot of the tramping warrior in battle tumult and every garment rolled in blood will be burned as fuel for the fire.”
Imagine you’re a soldier on an ancient battlefield. You’re wearing armor over your legs, your arms, your chest. You have a helmet on your head and a spear in your hand. You look across the battlefield and you don’t see those thousands upon thousands of the enemy coming. You hear them first, sounding like thunder.
They charge. You charge. And that meeting of metal against metal, weapon against weapon, is the phrase Isaiah uses — the tramping warrior in battle tumult. It’s a shaking of the ground. A noise of violence so great that your teeth rattle. It drowns everything. It’s death all around you. It’s kill or be killed.
It’s the soul-crushing noise of what’s known as greaves, which were the shoes the soldiers wore into battle. These shoes were covered with large iron hooks or clasps and fastened with nails. Hundreds of thousands of those greaves. Can you imagine that sound coming right at you?
Every garment, Isaiah says, rolled in blood. Every battle at that time was a bloody battle, the ground soaked in it to make a thick, red mud.
It’s a picture not just of ancient warfare, it’s a picture of our world, isn’t it? Destruction everywhere, pain everywhere, death everywhere.
But Isaiah says all of these weapons, all of this armor, all of these clothes worn for battle, will be thrown into the fire by this new conqueror.
Not stored for use in some future time, not kept safe and polished and clean for the next battle, but burned to ash because there will be no more use for them.
Isaiah says there is a kingdom of peace coming, and a kingdom of peace must be ruled by a king. And in verse 6, he describes that king in one of the most exquisite prophecies of the entire Old Testament:
“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
Nowhere in the Bible is there a more complete and perfect picture of joy than right here. In this verse is the key to possessing a joy that will fill every one of the cracks in your heart right now. It’s the secret to peace everlasting and to hope that will not bend.
Let’s take a close look at this verse and go through it one phrase at a time.
First, who is this king born to?
“To us,” Isaiah writes. Meaning to the Jews first. Remember in Matthew chapter 15 when Canaanite woman comes to Jesus because her daughter is possessed by a demon.
She cries out for help but Jesus doesn’t answer her. Instead he says to his disciples, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”
But then he does help her, doesn’t he? This Canaanite woman’s faith is so great that Jesus heals her daughter instantly. Jesus was sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, but his resurrection was the fulfillment of God’s plan to save the entire world.
In the Bible, a baby is born to a specific person. In Genesis when God tells Abraham that Sarah will bear a son, what does Abraham answer?
He falls on his face and laughs and says to himself, “Shall a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old. Shall Sarah, who is ninety years old, bear a child?”
You see? Isaac was born to Abraham. He was born to Sarah. But Isaiah says this baby is born to US. Unto ALL OF US.
Every person who has ever lived and who will ever live, no matter who they are, what they’ve done, what they’re doing, or where they live. Jesus wouldn’t just be a blessing to his parents, he would be a blessing to the entire world.
And who is being born? “A child.” The word in the Hebrew usually describes a boy. A youth. It’s applied to someone early in life. It’s the picture of a spark of light being given by God to shine in this darkness.
And this child, Isaiah writes, “is born.” Pay attention to that, because it’s important. Not “a child will soon be born”, not “a child will one day be born,” not even “a child will be born in 400 years,” which was about the amount of time between when Isaiah wrote these words from God and when Jesus arrived in this world as a baby.
No, “a child IS born.” Isaiah is so sure of the hope he gives us, so certain that what he writes will come to pass, that it’s as if this child, this conqueror, this savior, has already been born.
Isaiah is so sure this king of peace will destroy the weapons of war, and the words of hate, and all fear, and worry, and sadness, and want, that it doesn’t matter if it happens this moment or next year or in a thousand years or a million. To him the war is already won.
Next, this child is a son. The only son of God. There can be no overstating the importance of sons in the middle eastern cultures of that time, the Jewish cultures included.
Sons meant success. Sons meant providing. Sons meant the family name would continue into the future.
And this son, this only son of the eternal and holy God, is given.
Do we deserve this son? No. Are we owed this son? Impossible. And yet God freely and graciously gives this son to us for one reason alone: love. We have no claim upon this child, but God voluntarily gives him to be a sacrifice for our sins.
God’s love brought Christ into this world, and it is a love so complete, so overwhelming, so permanent, that he would rather sacrifice his son upon the cross than miss out on you being with him for eternity.
In John 4:10, Jesus calls himself “the gift of God.” And who is that gift for? You.
Not the billions of Christians alive today. Not the untold number of Christians who have gone before. Not the other people in this church. You.
God did this for you. And God would have done it even if you were the only person he had ever created.
And in this child will be the rule of the entire world. “The government shall be upon his shoulder,” Isaiah writes.
Think of that image. When people are given huge responsibility, we say they have a lot on their shoulders. Because if we support something physically, that’s the body part that bears the most load.
Christ will rule the new earth. He will be on the throne. He will be our government then, and as Christians now, he should govern our lives.
It’s his will we seek, his spirit that guides us. This image of the shoulders also points to the cross, which was laid upon Jesus’s shoulders and is the way to his kingdom, his government.
So Isaiah has told us five things already in the first 13 words of verse 6: this conqueror is a child; he’s been sent to all of us; he’s a son; he’s been given; and he will be a ruler of hearts and a kingdom.
Now toward the end of the first we are given something else, something very special — we’re given this son’s name.
Now, when parents name a child today, that name might be the name of a relative, or it might simply be a name that the parents like, a name they found in a book or have heard somewhere else.
But in the Hebrew language, names were given for a specific reason, and they held a great deal of power.
To be called something and to be something often meant the same thing. To them, the name you have influences the things you do and the person you are.
Isaiah presents four clauses in verse 6 that are set off by a comma — Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
What’s so important for us to know here is that these aren’t simply four sets of names — and we’ll talk more about that in a minute — they’re also descriptions of what this child will do. They’re a list of accomplishments.
First, he will be known as Wonderful Counselor. This calls to the wisdom that Jesus offers us.
The word “wonderful” is taken from the Hebrew word meaning to separate or to make great. It’s usually applied to miracles, and this child is the greatest miracle the world has ever known.
He is wonderful in the way he was born, in the way he lived his life, in the depths of his love and of his suffering. Wonderful in his resurrection and his ascension. Wonderful in his cross and his crown, in his grace and glory.
He is wonderful in his person — in being both fully God and fully man.
But not only is Jesus wonderful simply in who he is to you, he’s also a Wonderful Counselor to you, or as it’s translated here, “a wonder of a counselor.”
That word “counselor” means someone who advises, someone you go to for help and advice. It’s a name for someone who possesses great wisdom. And not only is Christ a counselor, he is a Wonderful Counselor. Isaiah says he is your greatest counselor.
In Christ you have your greatest and closest friend — God himself, who not only knows your greatest pain and joy, but who knows how those pains and joys feel because he experienced them as well.
Isn’t that amazing? As Christians we know that Christ came into the world to die for our sins so that we could spend eternity with Him. But that’s not the only reason Christ came. It’s the big one, but not the only one.
God also came into this world because he wanted to experience what it was like to live as us in it.
He wanted to know the pain, the longing. He wanted to know what heartbreak felt like, and loneliness, and disappointment.
And he wanted to know all of these things for one reason only — so that when you go to him in your own heartbreak and loneliness and disappointment, he will know exactly how you feel.
How often does someone offer you advice, give you counsel, and you say you appreciate it and you say it helps but inside you’re thinking, “This person just has no idea what I’m going through”?
That will never happen with God, because God knows exactly what you’re going through. That’s why you can go to him and pour out your heart, because he understands.
Jesus experienced every human condition in his years on earth. There is nothing you’re going through that he didn’t go through as well.
He is also Mighty God, a title that can apply to no human being but Christ. The Hebrew word there is el, and the only way this word is ever used in the Bible is when it speaks of Almighty God himself, who was both fully God and fully man.
That word el can also be translated as “Hero-God,” and it gives the Messiah the two fundamental virtues of a ruler — wisdom and strength — both in superhuman measure, meaning that his divinity works through Christ and is displayed in his rule.
This miracle you have with you every day, this friend who not only understands everything you’re going through but works to achieve his good and perfect will in your life, isn’t just a person. Isn’t just a wise teacher. He’s God himself, the creator of the universe.
He is the Everlasting Father, the father of eternity. The Hebrews used the word father in a lot of ways — a literal dad, a grandfather, an ancestor, a ruler, an instructor. In this regard, the title Everlasting Father is used by Isaiah to follow the custom that anyone who possesses a thing is called the father of it.
That is us. Christ is our father. He is not an earthly king. Even the best rulers leave their people. They grow old and die. Their rule doesn’t last forever. Not so with Christ. He will never leave you but will rule over you and bless you forever.
And finally, he is the Prince of Peace. Remember back up in verse 5, how the Messiah will destroy the implements of war, will burn them to ash.
In his reign on the new earth there will be no more violence, no more hate, no more fighting, no more argument, no danger, no death, no struggle. There will be the sort of eternal and abiding peace that only the Prince of Peace can bring.
But this peace isn’t just outward, it’s also inward. In him there is no more gap between sinful us and a holy God. Meaning our hearts will feel at peace, and our consciences, and our minds.
“In me you will have peace,” Jesus says in the Gospel of John. “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”
And here’s the amazing part of all of this. Here is the secret to the joy we should feel not only during Christmas, but all year.
These words Isaiah uses — Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace — they’re not four names. Look at what he says in verse 6: “His NAME shall be called.”
It’s all one name. Christ is so large, so undefinable, so everlasting, that his one name is more like four.
He will defy your every attempt to narrow him down and make him like you. And yet he comes to you as someone you know, someone you long for, someone who can be for you exactly what you need and what you’ve always wanted, and more.
All of the components of this name of Christ that Isaiah gives are names associated with God himself.
Jesus will be called Wonderful Counselor. In Isaiah 25, we’re told that the Lord God has done wonderful things and that he is wonderful in counsel.
Jesus will be called Mighty God. One chapter later in Isaiah 10:21, the same title is used of God himself.
Jesus will be called Everlasting Father. All through the Bible, God is called the Father of his people.
And only God himself can truly be called the Everlasting Father. God alone is omnipotent. And God alone, in the person of Jesus Christ, shed his blood so that all who believe on his name will have peace with God — that perfect peace that passes all understanding.
You think about that, my friends, and how can you feel anything but joy? Because this person, this miracle, was sent by God for you.
In this child born in a manger is every hope you’ve ever had fulfilled. In him is every longing you’ve ever felt supplied. In him is every heartbreak healed, every worry calmed, and every fear defeated.
That is the joy of Christmas. That is the peace of this season. For to us a child is born, no matter who you are. To us a son is given freely through a holy and overwhelming love.
He is the eternal gift, one wrapped not in paper, but in dirty clothes in a dirty manger. He is Immanuel. He is God with you.
Think on that. Believe that. Accept that. You’ll never have joy dwelling on the fact that you don’t deserve Christ’s sacrifice. God knows that. Doesn’t matter. But you’ll always have joy when you accept that God believes you’re worth Christ’s sacrifice.
Let’s pray:
Father, in the busyness of this season and in all the stress of this year, help us to pause and reflect upon the reason You sent your precious child into the world. It was not pity that brought him, not mercy alone. It was love — a love that surpasses anything we can feel and all that we can do, a love so great that even death cannot stand against it. A love of a Father for his children. And from that love flows enough joy to see us through every hurt, every grief, and every doubt. Let that joy overflow us, Father. Let it rush through us and be in every word, every act, every breath. For it’s in Jesus’s name we ask it, Amen.