Sermon Tone Analysis

Even the story of Jesus itself seems so random.

Yet in the random details of the story of Jesus we experience order.

I find it interesting on this Christmas Eve how so many of us, no matter where we are in life, have a desire for life to just make sense.

We’re not really too happy with the fact that life is usually so RANDOM.

Because we’re so uncomfortable with the randomness we’ve come up with little phrases to try and compensate for the things that come along that we have trouble explaining.

Phrases like:

Phrases like:

-“Everything happens for a reason.”

Really?

I’m not sure I believe that.

-“I Guess it was meant to be.”

-It’ll all work out.”

Wait...based on what?

We want life to fit together neatly without those unknowns and the unexplained issues.

And then the BIG bumps come along in life like the loss of a career, or divorce or death of a spouse or serious illness.

Where do we hang our hope then?

“Well, I guess it was just meant to be?”

That is what we often say When the randomness of life connects with us.

AND then we run head long into the Christmas Story where God dips down into history and reminds us that within all the chaos and that which seems so random that there is order and there is direction and there is a plan.

And He does it in a narrative that ITSELF is wrapped in chaos.

Some of you here tonight know the feeling.

You rushed around like crazy to get here.

You ran in, plopped in to your seat and your mind is even now running 100 miles an hour.

Man, you’re hoping we get out early because...

-Still get to the store.

-out of town guest coming in later tonight

-wash the sheets

-packages yet to wrap

-random things yet to accomplish

And it’s that kind of world that God enters.

God enters in a random way

A pregnant young girl.

A young carpenter to whom she’s engaged.

Both have been visited by an angel yet Joseph has to be wondering at times if he actually heard what he thought he heard.

They embark on a journey of 120 miles to the town of Bethlehem for a “government” census and she’s so pregnant and riding on a donkey.

They arrive and discover that due to the census there’s no place to stay.

It’s one random disaster after another.

One giant disappointment....until a sympathetic innkeeper agrees to let them stay with the animals in the stable and she’s so eager to get off that donkey that she’s willing to sleep anywhere.

(My Wife wouldn’t)

And off on the Judean hillside there are some random shepherds drifting off to sleep when the night sky explodes with the antiphonal sound of an angelic choir.

The shepherds rub their weary eyes and stare up into the sky and hear a message unlike anything they’ve ever imagined.

Surely these angels have the wrong address.

They should be announcing this to the priests 5 miles up the road in Jerusalem.

But they heard the message of “great joy” and made their way into Bethlehem to gaze into the manger in a random stable and see a baby whose birth was anything BUT random for it had been predicted and set in motion 2,000 years before that moment.

Yet it all seems so random.

Right down to this moment.

Christmas always seems to be this collection of random parts somehow assembled together, often at the last minute.

minute.

It’s family that we didn’t know we had or people that we hadn’t expected to invite.

It’s recipes that didn’t turn out and gifts that didn’t arrive.

It’s family that we didn’t know we had or people that we hadn’t expected to invite.

It’s recipes that didn’t turn out and gifts that didn’t arrive.

It’s just random things that God continues to drop into our lives to remind us that is true “for God so loved the world...that

He GAVE His only son that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

I want to tell you a story of another random Christmas.

A story that I heard from an acquaintance of mine about his Uncle on a Christmas in 1944.

All of his uncles were serving overseas in t WW II except for one who was stationed here in Oklahoma and due to ship out.

His name was Sam.

It was Christmas Eve day, early in the morning and the year was 1944.

Sam was at an army base in El Reno, Oklahoma waiting for his orders to ship overseas.

His parents lived in Wichita, Kansas and they knew it would be a lonely Christmas with all their boys involved in the Big War.

Shortly after day break a communiqué went out across that El Reno base stating that any soldier who’s home was within 150 miles of the base could have a three day pass for Christmas.

Wichita is 147 miles from the base.

Within the hour Sam had his duffle bag filled and stood outside the gates hoping to thumb a ride home for Christmas.

He wouldn’t have been able to take public transportation even if he’d had the money.

The busses and trains were all filled with holiday travelers.

So, there he stood, waiting.

In a short time a family in a 1936 Chevy pulled to the side of the road and invited Sam to climb in.

He did.

The car was occupied by a family of four traveling north to be with extended family for Christmas.

As they traveled, it began to snow.

A perfect addition to the fact that Christmas was going to be special for Sam.

Yet, in Oklahoma the snow doesn’t fall straight down making nice fluffy piles on tree limbs.

No, it blows sideways.

It is said that Oklahoma usually gets snow that was meant for Kansas.

As it snowed, the old roads grew slick.

The car slid occasionally and eventually ended up in the ditch where workers for the WPA helped push it back on the road.

As they continued north the snow continued to fall.

The sun sat and the evening grew into night when they finally drove into the little Kansas town of Kingman,

fifty miles west of Sam’s destination in Wichita.

The driver pulled the car to a stop under the one street light in town and informed Sam that they were continuing west.

He stepped out of the car pulling his duffle bag after him and stood, a lonely silhouette under a dim street light as snow continued to fall.

Within a matter of minutes a guy driving a poultry truck screeched to a halt and hollered to the snow dusted soldier, “Jump in.

How far you goin?”

“To Wichita.”

Sam answered.

And off they went with snow flakes and turkey feathers swirling around in the cab of the old truck.

In the wee hours of the morning they finally slid into Wichita.

Now the snow had stopped falling, the clouds had dissipated and the moon was beginning to shine brightly casting long shadows on the freshly fallen snow.

When they came to the corner of Illinois and Maple, the driver stopped.

Sam got out of the truck, thanked his new friend and started walking down the long dirt road to his parents home, crunching through the snow.

fashioned red cellophane wreaths hanging in the window with one little four watt bulb burning brightly in it’s center.

He was amused.

Dad was “frugal.”

What would cause him to leave a light on?