Untitled Sermon (7)

Call to confession:

The shepherds hurried to see what the Lord had made known to them,

yet we often move slowly toward God’s grace.

They spoke boldly of what they had seen and heard,

yet we too often remain silent.

Trusting in God’s mercy,

let us confess our sins before the Lord.

Prayer of Confession:

Lord God, Your goodness, beauty, and power are too much for us to fully comprehend. Your ways are higher than our ways, and Your thoughts higher than our thoughts. But in our pride and self-importance, we attempt to impose our ways and thoughts on You. We try to force Your nature into a box, to reshape You into our broken image. Forgive us for thinking too highly of ourselves and too little of You. Thank You for the immeasurable grace and mercy displayed in Christ’s coming to us, for giving us a way to truly know the Father through the Son. By Your Spirit, root out our pride and shape us into Jesus’ likeness. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.

Words of assurance:

Hear the good news:

The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. The apostles declared, “We cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard.”

In Jesus Christ, God has come near. Our sins are forgiven. Our joy is restored. Our wonder is renewed.

Friends, believe the good news of the gospel: In Jesus Christ, we are forgiven and set free— moved by wonder to live for God’s glory. Amen.

Luke 2:15-20

When the angels had left them and returned to heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go straight to Bethlehem and see what has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.”

They hurried off and found both Mary and Joseph, and the baby who was lying in the manger. After seeing them, they reported the message they were told about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary was treasuring up all these things in her heart and meditating on them. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had seen and heard, which were just as they had been told.

Advent 3 – Moved by Wonder

Advent number three. We are getting closer and closer to Christmas. And how are you feeling about that? To be honest, I'm getting better… but I still have a little PTSD around Christmas. My five years working for the post office made me come to despise this season. I lost the joy. I lost the awe and wonder that my daughter still holds so dearly. Slowly, the wonder is returning, but it’s hard sometimes.

And if you’re honest with yourself—how many of you struggle with this season too? How many of you have lost the awe and wonder that once came so naturally? Something about being an adult seems to strip that sense of wide-eyed amazement away.

Yet one place I still feel it is on a cold December evening—stepping outside after a fresh snowfall, seeing the stars scattered across the night sky. That still fills me with awe.

Sometimes I wish I had the childlike sense of wonder I once had. The joy of seeing Christmas lights and just going, “ooooh.” The delight of noticing a simple decoration and feeling my heart lift. But somewhere along the line, adults tend to “grow out of” wonder. Studies even show that as we age, we become less open to childlike dispositions—curiosity, wonder, questioning.

But what if that’s exactly what we need more of—especially when it comes to God and His Word? What if our worship was filled again with awe and wonder?

Today's passage is all about that—about awe, wonder, movement, and meditation. And in it, we find two equally important responses to God: the move of the shepherds and the meditation of Mary. Both matter. Both shape a life fully lived.

Let’s step into the passage. Imagine these grown men, sitting in a field, working the night shift. Suddenly the sky explodes with angels. One angel announces the good news; a multitude fills the heavens with “Glory to God in the highest.” Then they leave, returning to heaven. And what do the shepherds say?

“Let’s go straight to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened.” And Scripture says, “They hurried off.”

The Greek word for “hurried” means to go with haste, without delay, as fast as possible. They were moved—moved by awe and wonder into action.

They arrive and find everything just as the angel said: Mary, Joseph, and the baby wrapped in swaddling cloths lying in a manger. Bethlehem’s shepherds raised lambs for Passover; they knew exactly what it meant to see a newborn wrapped like this. It’s what they did with lambs born without blemish—set apart for sacrifice.

Here lies Jesus—the only baby in history born without sin. Every other baby, past and present, enters the world under the weight of original sin. But not Him. And so He is wrapped like the lamb He would become.

And who are the first witnesses of this? Not priests. Not kings. Not community leaders. But shepherds—the lowest class of that society. Known for being dirty, smelly, and often untrustworthy. Their testimony didn’t even count in court.

Yet God chose them as the first evangelists.

God seems to delight in using unknown people, in unknown places, to make known His extraordinary love.

So if you ever think, “I’m a nobody. What do I have to offer?”, remember: God chooses the humble. He lifts up the lowly. He uses those who know they don’t have it all together—because awe and wonder move people who rely on God, not themselves.

And so the shepherds go and tell. Scripture says, “ALL who heard it were amazed.” All of them—filled with awe because these ordinary men were bold enough to speak.

It reminds me of the woman at the well. Outcast. Alone. Broken. But she encounters the One who once lay in that manger, and what does she do? She runs back to town and tells everyone.

Same pattern. Same movement. Same awe and wonder.

So here’s the question—for me and for all of us: Why don’t we move like this anymore?

Brian preached last week with that same shepherd-like urgency—because he has experienced awe and wonder firsthand. You hear it in his testimony. That’s why he tells others. Awe moves us outward.

But sometimes—for me—it fades because I grew up in the church. “I’ve heard this story before.” “I know how this ends.” And I forget those moments when God’s love hit me with awe.

I forget standing on the hill under the Jumonville cross, taking communion under a forty-foot reminder of God’s glory. I forget the wonders of creation. I forget the wonders of life.

What about you? Where have you forgotten awe and wonder?

Maybe it’s because you’ve never fully encountered the love of God in a way that moved you. Or maybe life has simply dulled it.

But it’s never too late. Think about the thief on the cross—moved by awe and wonder at the very end of his life.

This time of year, what moves me most is imagining Jesus as a baby—dependent on His parents for warmth and food—yet at the same time holding the universe together. Needing His mother, while His mother needed Him to keep the stars burning.

If your life feels out of control, remember: He never stopped being in control.

Now we turn to Mary. The shepherds share everything that happened—the angels, the message, the glory. And what does Mary do?

She doesn’t run. She doesn’t tell crowds. Her awe leads her in the opposite direction.

“But Mary treasured up all these things in her heart and meditated on them.”

Her move was inward. Still. Reflective. She stored these moments deep within her, knowing she would need them later.

And she did. On the darkest day of her life—standing at the foot of the cross, watching her son suffer—Mary would draw from what she stored. She would remember the manger. She would remember the angel’s words. She would remember the shepherds’ awe. And she would remember that He was the Passover Lamb.

Mary teaches us that awe doesn’t just move us outward—it roots us deeply.

This is the rhythm echoed throughout the Old Testament:

Psalm 1 – The one who meditates on God’s Word is like a tree planted by streams of water. Psalm 119 – Again and again, meditation strengthens and guides. Psalm 119:11 – “I have hidden your word in my heart…” Proverbs 4:21–23 –

21 Do not let them out of your sight, keep them within your heart;

22 for they are life to those who find them and health to a man’s whole body.

23 Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.

We need this movement just as much as the shepherds’. We need stillness. Silence. Reflection. We need to sit with God and let awe sink in.

How often do we rush into decisions—good ones, even ministry ones—without pausing to be with Him?

These questions matter for you individually, and they matter for us as a church community. Elders especially are called to this—men and women moved by awe, guided by meditation, leading others not through frantic activity but through rooted wisdom.

This Advent, we need to see the awe and wonder of what has happened in the book of Luke. We will wrap up this series next Sunday with the man who waited his whole life to see the Messiah—and then, at last, he does. He is moved by awe and wonder.

We began by talking about the reliability of this Gospel—who Luke was and the authority with which he wrote. Then we encountered the first time God spoke after 400 years of silence, when an angel of the Lord appeared to a priest in the temple. He did not believe and was moved to silence. Soon after, a teenager encountered the same message. She believed, trusted, and now we see her giving birth to the Messiah. And today, unknown shepherds become evangelists.

The story so far is filled with God working through unknown, seemingly insignificant people and places and making them significant. It is full of those “just so happened” moments that brought all these things together. God has a plan. God is working through all of history to bring His people to Himself, using even the ordinary and overlooked to make it happen. When you begin to see those “just so happened” moments in history, it should lead us to nothing but awe and wonder.

History is filled with them too:

It just so happened that Alexander the Great spread Greek language across the known world.

just so happened Rome to unify that world and built roads everywhere.

It just so happened Jesus is born at the commercial center of that network—so the gospel can spread.

, it just so happened Paul a Jewish Roman citizen, was in a perfect positioned to take that message across the empire.

just so happened Martin Luther nailed the 95 Theses in a town with the newly invented printing press. Enabling his work to spread and The Bible to be mass produced into the people’s language.

Awe and wonder aren’t just ancient—they’re historical. They’re present. Someone someday will look back at our time and say, “It just so happened that God used that moment for His glory.”

The caution is this: Don’t only run. Don’t only sit. We need both.

The shepherds teach us haste in sharing the Good News. Mary teaches us stillness in holding the Good News.

Christmas is 11 days away, and I know many of us are moving with haste—but it’s the wrong kind of haste. Last-minute shopping. Trying to make everything perfect. Technology doesn’t help either—we binge something instantly because we don’t like waiting.

But Advent invites us to holy haste:

Haste to share the Good News that Brian shared with us last week.

Haste to love our families well and share with them the true meaning of Christmas.

Haste to speak of Jesus—the child who would live, die, rise, and ascend for us.

And it invites us to holy stillness:

Stillness to treasure Christ.

Stillness to listen.

Stillness to surrender.

Mary gives us an example of faith. So do the shepherds. And we need both movements—haste and meditation—both born out of awe and wonder at what God has done.

This Advent, may you be moved like the shepherds—to go with haste and share the Good News. And may you be moved like Mary—to be still and treasure these things in your heart. May awe and wonder fill your worship, your week, and your Christmas. And may you find it all wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a manger.

Bow with me to pray…