Sermon Tone Analysis

Don’t become familiar with this story.

Merry Christmas!

Are you excited?

Boy, I’m thrilled.

I love this season.

I’ve always loved this season.

But I think the reason I love this season has changed over the years.

When I was a child, I couldn’t wait for the snow, and for the food, and for the people, and for the presents!

Warm fires and hot cider and my favorite friends.

I love the long nights of laughter and storytelling.

None of that has changed, really.

I still look forward to those things.

But I think the thing I most love about Christmas is that the story of Jesus is everywhere.

Everywhere.

It’s pervasive, the light of it illuminates even the dark corners of our society.

It’s actually hard to be an American and not know the story of Jesus’ birth, because nearly every song we sing and nearly every story we tell bears its influence.

So there’s this moment in the story of Jesus’

There’s

And that’s good, on the one hand.

But there are some drawbacks to general familiarity.

For instance, have you noticed that everyone focuses on the least important details.

Like the animals in the barn.

Or the three kings, and their gifts.

You lose something precious when you hover around the margins of the story.

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But perhaps the most devastating consequence of our culture’s vague familiarity with the story of Jesus’ birth is that we almost never finish the story.

It makes sense, right, for our culture to finish telling the story at the manger.

Because, unless you keep reading, you wouldn’t know that the story of Jesus’ birth doesn’t stop at Jesus’ birth.

It’s a natural conclusion of the story, if you aren’t really familiar with the Bible, especially in a society that doesn’t really have any major milestones after the first week of life, or the first month.

And when you’re packaging the story for mass consumption, you wouldn’t really feel any compulsion to be comprehensive.

But the story of Christ’s birth doesn’t end at the manger, or with the shepherds, or with the wise men and their gifts.

The story of Jesus ends at the temple.

And one of the sharpest consequences of broad familiarity with the story of Jesus is that very seldom are we told the whole story, from start to finish.

But that’s what we’re going to do today.

We’re going to finish the story.

I love this

Christ’s Birth: The Musical

I mentioned, in the first week of this series, that the story of Jesus is interrupted, four times, by song.

An angel promises the birth of Jesus, and Mary bursts forth in song.

John, the promised forerunner, is born and his father, Zechariah, bursts forth in song.

The Angel explains that a savior is coming, and a multitude of angels shows up out of nowhere and bursts into song.

And here, at the end of the birth story, an old prophet and an old prophetess meet the baby Jesus in the temple courts, and what do they do?

They burst into song.

So everyone in America has, I think, at least a basic understanding of the Christmas story.

The virgin birth, the inn with no vacancy, the child laying in a manger, the wise men and the shepherds - we have a cultural memory of the Christmas story because it’s sort of woven into winter traditions, in a post-christendom sort of way.

And that’s not necessarily a good thing.

This is what I mean.

If I called you and told you to drop what you were doing, because we had to meet immediately.

And if I sent you an address to a remote location and told you to meet me there without any electronic devices.

And when you arrived if I was clearly terrified, falling apart, in all-out panic mode.

And if I told you, without a flinch, that the governor of Texas was a space invader wearing a skin suit, and that he was presently rallying his armies of little green men to occupy the great state of Texas as a staging ground for a global invasion, and if I told you that war was inevitable and life would never be the same.

One of two things would happen.

You’d be very concerned.

And you’d make a few phone calls.

And maybe the authorities would show up to take me to the mad house.

You’d be very concerned.

And you’d run to your truck and B-Line to the Gun Store.

Because the little green men were coming.

But let me tell you what wouldn’t happen.

You wouldn’t patiently listen with a blank expression, kindly smile and say, “That’s a sweet story.

Really, thanks for telling me.”

Because either this is life-altering, world-changing news of global significance for all of humanity!

Or it’s the fabrications of a lunatic, who likely needs to spend some time in a straight-jacket.

But there is no third direction.

See, I think we forget the audacity of the Christmas story.

I think we forget the striking audacity of the claims of the Christmas story.

And I’m not just referring to the virgin birth, or the angels.

Look, we’ve spent a month reflecting on unhinged claims of the world-changing, creation-shifting significance of a baby.

Think about it.

Forget that you’ve grown up hearing these stories and think about the claims themselves - claims about a baby.

Mary says, “This child will humble the proud, he will humiliate and bring to nothing the mighty, and he will lift up the helpless and the hopeless and the poor!”

And notice that she doesn’t qualify those terms.

She doesn’t say, “some of the proud, a significant number of the mighty.”

Mary wholeheartedly believes that this baby will change the face of mankind fundamentally, by reversing the fortunes of every single person fundamentally.

And anyone who believes that about their child is a nutter.

Right?

Or listen to Zechariah.

He says that God — the GOD of all creation — is literally visiting his people in the birth of this child.

God.

And this isn’t just a visit.

This child who is God will save Israel from her enemies, this child who is God will fulfill all of the promises of the Scriptures, and he will reign as King on a throne that never ends, ever, like ever ever for all time.

And anyone who believes that about some baby is a nutter.

Right?

Or listen to the angels.

An angel — fire and flaming sword and the works — shows up to claim that this baby is not only the future King of Israel and the savior of God’s people, but — and perhaps this is the most ridiculous claim of all — that he will simultaneously glorify god and bring peace to God’s people — an idea unthinkable this side of Eden.

And anyone who claims that a baby will fundamentally alter the relationship between God and man, anyone who claims that a baby will bring forever peace to earth and fix all that is broken in all of creation is a nutter.

Right?

Don’t become familiar with the Christ story!

Don’t do it, because you’ll forget the sheer audacity of these promises.

Ridiculous claims, absolutely impossible claims made about a little baby, lying in a barn.

You’ve got to see them for what they are, so that you’ll ask the question that you’re supposed to ask — the question that every reader in their right mind would ask at this point.

“How?”

Because, honestly, if you’ve grown up hearing the prophecies of redemption and rescue and restoration, and then all of the sudden you encounter these shocking claims that this little baby will do it all, will fulfill every promise single-handedly, you encounter claims that this baby is the Son of God, the future King of Israel, that this little baby will humble the proud and exalt the humble, that this little baby would crush all of Israel’s enemies and bring peace to God’s people and reign forever on a throne that never ends in a kingdom that never ends, and that, through this child God’s glory would blanket the earth and Peace would be secured forever for God’s people — if you’re all of the sudden faced with the sheer audacity of these claims, surely you’re first response is to ask, “How on earth will a child manage to do all that?”

And I want to suggest to you that they work together in chorus, to teach us the meaning of Christ’s birth.

Here’s what I mean.

Mary’s song answers the question, “Who is this child?”

Mary’s song answers the question, “

She sings, “The offspring of Abraham, who will exalt the humble and scatter the proud.”

Zechariah’s song answers the question, “Why was he sent?”

He sings, “To fulfill all of God’s promises.”