Luke 2:1-7 | A Royal Scandal

INTRODUCTION: THE CHRISTMAS CARD CURTAIN

Rachel and I were talking just recently about something weird we both noticed: we didn’t receive hardly any Christmas Cards this year. I’m scared to ask—has anyone else noticed that? I’m scared to ask because if you all received a bunch, it means it’s our fault somehow! I also don't want to pressure you into sending us cards, but we were wondering... "Is this a trend? Is the postage too high? Is Shutterfly down?"

Then I realized: We didn’t send one either. We just… didn’t want to, I guess. There wasn’t a lot of thought in it; we just didn’t get around to it. Maybe it’s exhaustion. Maybe it’s just the sheer effort of it all. Maybe…

Or perhaps there’s something deeper going on with the Christmas Card phenomenon. We all know the pressure of the "Christmas Card." It’s that time of year when we feel the need to curate the perfect summary of our lives. Last week we talked about the "Herodian Hustle"—the exhaustion of trying to control our lives. Well, the Christmas Card is kinda just the PR wing of that hustle. It's how we try to convince everyone else our "kingdom" is doing just fine.

We’re fine. Everything's fine. We’re all fine!

You know the drill: you pick the photo where everyone is looking at the camera, where the outfits match, and where the smiles look genuine—even if someone was crying five seconds before the shutter clicked. You edit out the struggle. You delete the paragraph about the marriage counseling. You crop out the mess in the living room. It is a masterpiece of personal branding. It says, "Look at us. We are happy. We are successful. We are royal."

I remember about six years ago, I decided to combat this "PR Snapshot" mentality. I sent out a Christmas card that was... different. Instead of the perfect family photo, I used all the "no-go" pictures—the ones where the kids were crying, screaming, or just losing it. And the caption read: "May Jesus meet you in whatever emotional state you find yourself in this Christmas!"

That card was honest. It was a glimpse behind the curtain.

Friends, the reality is, we all have two versions of our story:

The PR Firm version: The standard Christmas card, the resume, the Instagram feed. It’s the version we project to prove we are worthy of the crown. It’s spin and propaganda. Our filtered lives. We all have the PR firm versions of our lives and then we also have.…

The Police Reports: That’s the version that exists in the dark—the crying kids, the mess, the history of our mistakes, our baggage, all and our family dysfunction.

And I think most of us live under a crushing pressure to maintain the "PR Firm" version because we believe that is what royalty looks like. And we’re terrified that if people saw the "Police Report"—the real history—we’d be disqualified. We’d lose the crown.

Why do we do this? Well, because deep down, we are all haunted by a sense of lost glory. We know, instinctively, that we were made for something more than this mess. The Bible calls this the Imago Dei—the Image of God. As we discussed last week, in the ancient world, only the King was called the "image of god." Everyone else was a slave or a cog in the wheels of time. But Genesis 1 we were reminded that God tells us a different and better story of our creation. He says you and I were created for royalty—to be God’s ambassadors, crowned with His dignity.

The tragedy is that we rebelled and gave away the thrones God created for us to rule from with Him! Last week we talked about the "crown of control." The moment we seized it, Genesis 3 tells us our eyes were opened and we realized we were naked.

Remember? Eve grasped for control and it brought death; but Mary surrendered to the one True King and she received life.

The crown of control promises everything, but it strips us naked and sends us into chaos. We don’t get crowned; we end up needing to hide behind fig leaves. We don’t stand in dignity; we begin the frantic fight to filter and curate our lives to cover our shame—and we fail every time.

I want to welcome you today into a story that addresses this exact fear of failure. Today we are going to discover that Jesus enters the scandal of your 'Police Report' so you can be reborn as royalty! We’re going to see that the True King didn't come for the polished "PR Firm" story of your life. He came for the "Police Report." He came to remove the shame of our pasts in a way that fills us with hope, honor and dignity!

Turn with me to Luke, chapter 2. Let’s read it together.

Luke 2:1–7 NIV

1 In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. 2 (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) 3 And everyone went to their own town to register. 4 So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. 5 He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, 7 and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

I. THE SOVEREIGN ORCHESTRATION (The False King)

Luke begins chapter 2 with a flex: "In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree..." (v. 1).

To us, Caesar is just a marble bust in a museum, but to the original audience, he was the most powerful man on earth. He was the epitome of a man trying to spin his very existence into legitimacy through a world-class PR firm. And we actually have some of the receipts of his propaganda. Archaeologists call it the Priene Inscription from 9 BC. They found it carved on a rock over in Turkey some where and If we were to translate what Caesar's PR firm claimed on that rock into plain English today, it would sound like this:

"Finally, the universe has given us the Savior we’ve been waiting for. This man, Caesar Augustus, has ended all wars and put the world back together. His birthday is the best 'Good News' the world has ever heard. Basically, history starts with him."

Subtle, right? Ha! Not so much. "Savior of the world." "Good News." This is what Caesar wanted everyone to know about him! He was "The Man." He was large and in charge, and from the world’s perspective, it was all true. Augustus sat on a throne in Rome, and all it took for him to move the entire world was a single stroke of a pen.

He issues a decree. He demands a census—not just to count heads, but to tax them. And everyone jumps.

This census was another marketing move of PR Spin. It was a "flex" meant to remind everyone exactly who was in control.

You had plans this holiday? You were going snow skiing in Vale. Well too bad. Not anymore! Caesar don't care. You’re going to your hometown to be counted and taxed!

Luke hints at Caesar's power here in vs. 1, but he’s winking at us. You see, Caesar thinks he’s filling his treasury and flexing his power, but he’s actually just an errand boy for God. Seven hundred years earlier, the prophet Micah prophesied that the True King would be born in Bethlehem. So, God uses the massive ego of a Roman Emperor to get a poor carpenter and his pregnant fiancée to the right city at exactly the right time.

I want you all to take not of the ways of God here: sometimes, the very things that seem to be wrecking your plans are the tools God is using to fulfill His. Augustus represents the "PR King"—projected perfection and the "Christmas Card" version of royalty. But the camera pans away from the guy on the throne to a couple walking through the dirt. And I want us to look hard at this couple this morning—not the Hallmark version, but the real-life one.

II. THE SILENT SCANDAL (The Shame)

Look back at verse 5 with me. Luke tells us that Joseph "went [to Bethlehem] to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child". We usually skim over this because we read it every year, and let’s be honest—we live in a culture where "shame" feels like a thing of the past, especially when it comes to things of the baby making business.

But to the people originally reading Luke’s words, this detail would’ve landed like a bomb. In that culture, you simply did not get pregnant before the wedding. Before you were married.

If we look at Matthew 1, we see the "Police Report" version of this story:

Matthew 1:18–19 NIV

18 This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit. 19 Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly.

Joseph is a "righteous man." He followed the rules. But suddenly, he is attached to a public disgrace.

The counselor and author Ed Welch says something worth of note here. He says that there is a massive difference between Guilt and Shame. He says Guilt belongs in a Courtroom. It’s about a judge and a law. It asks, "Did you break the rules?". But Shame? Shame belongs in the Community.

Guilt says, "I did something bad," but Shame says, "I am bad".

Guilt is about the crime; Shame is about the stain.

In the "Courtroom," Joseph was innocent. He knew he hadn't done anything wrong. Legally, his "Police Report" was clean. But in the "Community," he was already being judged.

Imagine the side-eye when he arrived in Bethlehem to see his relatives. They had the invites hanging on their fridge to the wedding, which was still months away and yet... "Hey that’s Joseph... from the line of David... but look at the girl he’s with! They aren’t married and she looks very very pregnant!"

This is shame. It’s that feeling deep inside that makes us feel as if there is something fundamentally wrong with you—so wrong that you should hide your face. You feel it, and your community reinforces it.

Church, this is Adam and Eve hiding and blushing in the bushes all over again. They didn't just feel guilty for breaking a rule; they felt unpresentable before God and each other.

And now Joseph feels it and tries to cover over and filter this part of his story.

He determines to divorce Mary quietly to protect his "Royal Image." He wanted to control the narrative. He wanted to seize the "Crown of a Good Name." But like Mary last week, he had to learn that true royalty is found in surrender, even when that surrender looks like a scandal!

Listen to what happens next:

Matthew 1:20–21 NIV

20 But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

Folks, don’t miss the weight of this moment. There aren’t many angelic encounters in the Bible; God doesn’t send Gabriel for minor details. But Joseph’s shame is so heavy and his role is so central to the rescue of the world that it requires a divine messenger to step into his dreams and pump the brakes.

Because Joseph was ready to run. He was ready to protect his brand and save his name. But then he wakes up, and he does something incredibly brave: He adopts the scandal. He realizes that even though he is "righteous" in the Courtroom—his legal record is clean, he’s done nothing wrong—he is willing to be seen as "unclean" in the Community for the sake of His God and King. He decides that being "right in the eyes of man" isn't as important as being "with God in His designs."

He lets his reputation take a lethal hit so that Jesus can have a family tree. He chooses the "Police Report" reality over the "PR Image." Think about that: the foster father of the King of Kings started his journey by accepting a reputation of disgrace. He traded his "Crown of a Good Name" for a life of whispers in the village square.

Friends, this is exactly where we live. We spend so much of our life-force trying to sew fig leaves together, trying to prove we are worthy of the palace. We are exhausted from the "Herodian Hustle," terrified that if the filter drops, the crown drops with it.

But you have to hear this: You cannot find the True King while you are busy polishing your fake crown. If you are waiting until your life looks like a Christmas Card to come to God, you will be waiting forever. Christmas is the explosive reminder that Jesus doesn’t expect us to clean ourselves up and audition for the palace! He isn't looking for the "PR Firm" version of you.

Instead, the True King humbles Himself and invites you to join Him in the one place where shame has nowhere to hide: a barn filled with manure. He meets us in the "Police Report" because that is the only place we are actually honest. He descends into our mess not to judge it, but to cover it with His own royal dignity. He doesn't wait for the guest room to be ready; He goes straight to the stable! Look back at the text.

III. THE HUMBLE ARRIVAL (The Descent)

Mary and Joseph finally arrive in Bethlehem, and verse 7 gives us the most famous sentence in the Christmas story: "...she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them."

We often hear this told like Mary and Joseph pulled up to a local Motel 6 and the guy at the front desk said, "Sorry, we’re all booked up—no vacancy." We imagine a heartless innkeeper pointing them toward a lonely stable down the street because there wasn't a room with two queens and a continental breakfast available.

But we need to clear up a misconception. The word for "inn" here likely doesn't mean a commercial hotel. Instead it usually refers to the "guest room" in a family home.

Remember, Joseph is in his ancestral hometown; he has relatives here. People invited to his wedding!

And in Middle Eastern culture, hospitality isn’t just a suggestion; it’s a sacred duty. You don’t turn away a pregnant woman—especially family—unless she brings shame on your house.

Folks, It is very possible the relatives saw the pregnancy, did the math, and said, "You can’t stay in the guest room. We won’t endorse this scandal under our roof. Not in my house!"

You see, the relatives in Bethlehem didn’t just run out of space; they ran out of grace for their "Police Report" relatives. The unspoken message was clear: "If you want to act like animals, you can stay with the animals."

So they send Mary and Joseph to the lower level—the dirt floor where the livestock were kept. And it’s there, in the dark, surrounded by the smell of hay and manure, that the King of Kings takes His first breath. He isn't laid on silk; He is placed in a manger.

Let that image sink in. A manger is a feeding trough. It is a stone or wooden box designed to hold slop for donkeys.

The Lord God is screaming this from the rooftops: True royalty isn’t found in the PR spin of a Roman palace! Real majesty isn't reflected by a Caesar who demands the world serve him. No, God wants us to see a different kind of King—a King who leaves the Throne of Heaven, is pushed out of the "respectable" guest room, and lands headfirst in a feed box.

Why would God choose the trough?

Because He wants you to know that He is comfortable in the rooms you are ashamed of. He didn't come to a palace because you don't live in one. He didn't come to a "guest room" because most of us don't feel welcome there. He came to the manger because that is where our real lives happen—in the mess, in the dirt, and in the places we try to lock away from public view. He descended into our shame so He could lift us back into the honor we were created for.

Jesus enters the scandal of your "Police Report" so you can be reborn as royalty!

Think about how this lands on your actual "Police Report" today. We all have that one page we hope no one ever reads.

The Professional Mask: Maybe you lead a team or a family, but you feel like a total fraud. You wake up thinking, "If they knew what I did in college, or if they knew the real dysfunction in my family tree, they wouldn’t follow me for a second." You are terrified that your "Police Report" disqualifies you from the "PR Firm" leadership you're projecting. To you, the Manger says: God’s King had a "questionable" entry, too. Your baggage doesn't scare Him. He is comfortable in the rooms—and the family trees—you’re ashamed of.

The Stigma: Maybe you feel like "damaged goods" because of past relationships or mistakes you can’t take back. You feel like you've been "stained" in the eyes of the community. To you, the Manger says: Jesus entered a situation marked by sexual stigma—people whispered about Mary’s pregnancy for thirty years—specifically to redeem us from that kind of shame. He doesn't just forgive the stigma; He entered it so He could wash it away.

The Secret: Maybe it’s an addiction, a bankruptcy, or a secret you're terrified will be "found out." You’ve spent years building a "PR Firm" version of your life to hide it. The Manger says: God does His best work in the dark, messy places we try the hardest to hide. But know this… God won’t heal what we conceal!

When we realize this, our identity shifts. This is the functional realization of being made in God's image. We stop the "Herodian Hustle" of trying to spin our past—no more PR, no more propaganda. Instead we start surrendering our past. We stop saying "I'm not that bad" and we start saying "I am that loved."

You see, you don't need a PR firm to build a kingdom to prove you have dignity. Your dignity was a gift from the beginning—the Imago Dei. You don't have to seize a crown; you simply need to receive the status the King has already won for you by descending into your mess.

CONCLUSION: DROP THE PR

In the ancient world, only the King was "special". Everyone else was just a servant, a worker bee, a nobody. If you weren't on the throne, you didn't really matter. You were expendable. But the Gospel flips the script. In the Christmas story, the True King—Jesus—becomes the servant. He takes your place in the mess. He takes the shame of your past, the mistakes you can't erase, the "slave status" of always trying to prove yourself—and He absorbs it all. In exchange, He gives you His Royal Status. He gives you His crown.

Our culture loves a "comeback story." We tell people, "Don't let your past define you!" We want to believe our mistakes shouldn't be our identity. But the world's only solution is Reinvention. It tells you: "Just forgive yourself. Rebrand. Re-launch." But you and I know the truth: you can't be your own Savior. You can't expunge your own record. Trying to outrun your own shadow is exhausting.

The Gospel tells a better story. It doesn't ask you to spin your history; it gives you a new history. It invites you not just to rebrand, but to be reborn. Jesus says in John chapter 3 that we must be "born again" to see and enter the Kingdom, and John 1:12 tells us that to all who receive Him, He gives the right to become children of God.

If you’ve been paying attention, that makes us royalty. This is a royal title, and it’s a title you can only get by being born into it!

Church, think about what the baby Jesus in the manger has to teach us. When He entered this world, He was a baby. Babies can’t do anything. They can’t earn their keep. They can’t rule. They can’t even hold up their own heads! That was Jesus, and yet, from His very first breath, He carried the status of the True King.

Here’s my point: if you’re born into it royalty, well then nothing strip you of that status!

Jesus enters the scandal of your 'Police Report' so you can be reborn as royalty!

This is the gift of Christmas: royal status regardless of your past, your resume, or your shame. Like a prince in a cradle, we didn't do a thing to earn it. We are simply loved enough to be born to the King.

This means we don't need a PR Firm to spin our image. And God isn't scared off by our Police Report. He gives us new names and new identities—the only IDs that carry weight in His Kingdom.

So this Christmas, you can stop the hustle. You can stop the image management. You can stop sewing fig leaves to cover your shame. You don't have to build a kingdom to prove you matter, and you don't have to hide your past to protect your dignity. Your dignity was given to you in Genesis 1, and it was bought back for you at the Manger and the Cross.

The King is here. He knows the "Police Report," and He loves you anyway. He is calling you home.

Let’s pray.