When I was thinking about what I was going to preach on today, I got thinking about how special it is when Christmas is on a Sunday, because it happens so infrequently. There’s no denying that these Christmas Sundays are special, and in some ways that can make it feel like a lot of pressure. I know it’s not uncommon for preachers to struggle with a real or self-imposed expectation when it comes to the advent season, to preach something new or unique, so we’re not just rehashing the same Christmas story everyone’s heard 100 times.

Yet as I reflected on the significance of a Sunday morning Christmas service, and as I thought about that same Christmas story, it really seemed like there was no other choice that was fitting for such a day than to return to the heart of it all in Luke chapter 2. The reality is that there is a lot we remember or think we know about the Christmas story, but even after hearing it 100 times over, we can still mess up the details. We like to imagine the drama, to think about what that night would’ve looked like for Mary and Joseph. We want the birth story! Give us all the nitty gritty!

But the Biblical account doesn’t actually give us that many details about the birth itself and so sometimes we end up filling in the blanks with information that isn’t actually there. But today, we’re going to do the exact opposite. We’re going to focus on what is actually written in the text. On a Christmas Day on the Lord’s Day, I want to be sure we’re reading what God’s word actually says about the birth of God’s son.

SERMON MANUSCRIPT

When I was thinking about what I was going to preach on today, I got thinking about how special it is when Christmas is on a Sunday, because it happens so infrequently. I knew it had felt like a long time since the last one, so I looked it up. The last Christmas Sunday was in 2016. Natasha and I were 3 months married, living in Guelph, and preparing for what I believe was the last meeting and interview with the elders before they decided whether or not to offer me a job here at Oakridge.

That warm, fuzzy feeling of nostalgia was quickly replaced by terror when I kept reading on the same website, which informed me that the next time we have a Sunday Christmas we will have a teenager in the house.

There’s no denying that these Christmas Sundays are special, and in some ways that can make it feel like a lot of pressure. I know it’s not uncommon for preachers to struggle with a real or self-imposed expectation when it comes to the advent season, to preach something new or unique, so we’re not just rehashing the same Christmas story everyone’s heard 100 times.

Yet as I reflected on the significance of a Sunday morning Christmas service, and as I thought about that same Christmas story, it really seemed like there was no other choice that was fitting for such a day than to return to the heart of it all in Luke chapter 2, so if you have a Bible you can turn there now.

Many of you would know that our Treehouse and Rooted programs resumed this fall for the first time since Spring of 2020, and one of the things we always do at Rooted on the last session before the break for the holidays is a Christmas quiz.

It’s always funny to watch the first few minutes when some of the kids fly through it, thinking they know all the answers without looking them up in the Bible. Yet they usually end up getting many of them wrong, because often-times, our dramatic retellings of the story, while helpful for getting the narrative across, don’t get the details 100% accurate.

The classic example is the question: “where did the magi meet Jesus?” Our minds immediately go to the manger scene, the gifts, the camels side-by-side with the sheep. Shepherds and wise men and baby Jesus, oh my!

Yet the verse in Matthew 2 tells us they saw the Child with his mother Mary in a house where they delivered their treasures, and that Herod was concerned about babies as old as 2 years based on the time they saw the star. Joseph also takes the whole family to Egypt after the magi leave based on a warning from an angel, but Luke tells us he was given the name Jesus and circumcised on the eighth day after his birth, and that he was then taken to Jerusalem to offer the appointed sacrifice required by the Law for a firstborn child, implying that the whole scene with the magi happened after this.

This got me thinking about the idea of collective false memories, what some refer to as the “Mandela effect”, where, for some reason or another, our minds fill in details about an event that aren’t entirely accurate, and yet we remember that new information as truth.

Think of that famous line from The Empire Strikes Back when Luke finally meets Darth Vader. “Luke, I am your father.” Wrong. “No, Luke, I am your father.” Wrong again. The actual quote is just “No, I am your father.

Or let’s take it back to the Christmas story. There were three wise men, right? Well does Matthew ever actually say that there were only three of them?

The reality is that there is a lot we remember or think we know about the Christmas story, but even after hearing it 100 times over, we can still mess up the details. We like to imagine the drama, to think about what that night would’ve looked like for Mary and Joseph. We want the birth story! Give us all the nitty gritty!

But the Biblical account doesn’t actually give us that many details about the birth itself. Matthew just says “she gave birth to a son, and he [that is, Joseph] named him Jesus”. And while Luke gives us a bit more, you might be surprised to see how little he says, and so sometimes we end up filling in the blanks with information that isn’t actually there.

But today, we’re going to do the exact opposite. We’re going to focus on what is actually written in the text. Now, this is not to shame our childrens’ plays or our dramatic retellings, which are excellent tools to celebrate and remember.

But on a Christmas Day on the Lord’s Day, I want to be sure we’re reading what God’s word actually says about the birth of God’s son.

We’re going to break it up into three sections or scenes, and I know many of you just heard these words last night at our Christmas Eve service. As we read this morning, let’s do our best to not fill in any blanks but to appreciate that Luke, inspired by the Holy Spirit, included the details he did for a reason, and left out others for a reason too, even the juicy, dramatic ones we may want.

To Bethlehem (LUKE 2:1–7)

This was often my Christmas Eve reading as a child. I remember practicing over and over trying to say Quirinius properly. I still mess it up sometimes. But nostalgia and familiarity aside, what do these first few verses actually tell us, and why might Luke have included them?

A command comes from the emperor to take a census of his empire, while Quirinius was governor of Syria. This starts out the theme of God using the seemingly normal plans and purposes and situations of humans to accomplish his divine purposes. Caesar had no idea that by commanding this census he would be moving the birth-mother of the Messiah to the place where he prophetically needed to be born, but God knew.

It also, in typical Lukan fashion, focussing on details, roots the birth of Jesus at a specific time and place in history, thus making it harder to deny and easier to confirm. We know this instinctually. If someone tells you something that sounds farfetched, and can’t offer much detail and sounds pretty wishy-washy, it’s harder to believe. But the more details, time, place, people they give, the more believable it seems, because you can easily go and verify those facts for yourself.

People made their way back to their hometown to register for the census. Joseph was from the family of David, so he went to Bethlehem along with everyone else from the lineage of David. Pregnant Mary came along with him. That is what Luke tells us. But here is where some speculation sometimes likes to come in, and we start to fill in details from our Christmas story retellings.

Sometimes people theorize about why Mary went with Joseph, considering they were still “betrothed”, or engaged, and not married yet. Wouldn’t she need to stay in Nazareth with her family for the census? Especially if she knew the baby was coming soon? Maybe this indicates that Mary and Joseph knew the prophecies that the Messiah needed to be born in Bethlehem? Maybe because betrothal was “basically married” she had to go with Joseph?

However, notice what Luke doesn’t tell us: why Mary went. It could be any or none of those reasons, clearly that detail is not important to Luke’s telling of the story. What is important is that Mary went with Joseph to Bethlehem, because he was of the line of David.

Now, maybe you don’t care so much about the motivation, but this is a great place to start the drama!

We start to think about how long it takes to get to Bethlehem from Nazareth. Imagine riding that far on a donkey in your third trimester! Oops, Luke doesn’t tell us she was riding on a donkey. She might have, or she might’ve walked. It doesn’t matter. And actually, technically Luke doesn’t tell us how far along she was at this point. We usually picture Mary riding up the city, baby basically bursting out of her as they knock on all the inns to find a safe place to deliver. But Luke just says “while they were there, the time came for her to give birth” (vv. 6). He doesn’t say how long they were in Bethlehem when this time came, because again, that’s not important. What’s important is just that it happened while they were there. [vv. 7].

How many hours in labour? No idea. Was it a smooth delivery? We don’t know. Did Joseph pass out or cut the chord? Did she have a midwife or a relative there to help her? How long did they do skin-to-skin? Your guess is as good as mine! “The little Lord Jesus no crying he makes”? That one is doubtful, but again, Luke doesn’t say for sure. What we know for sure: he was born, wrapped in cloths, and laid in a manger because there was no room for them at the inn.

This is another point where sometimes people like to fill in details, and sometimes even draw some implications about the story from them. Has anyone here heard that Jesus was born in a cave? This is common in historical Christian tradition. The idea goes that if he was laid in a manger, that means he must’ve been in a stable, and at that place at that time, the stables would’ve been in caves surrounding Bethlehem, to shelter and protect the animals from the weather. The implication is sometimes then drawn that this picture of Jesus’ birth shows that he was alone and rejected from the beginning, born in filth and squalor that was the exact opposite of how a king should be treated.

On the flip side, I’ve seen historians and theologians argue the exact opposite, saying that in those days, it was common for Palestinian homes to have a sort of communal living space on the main floor and the bedrooms above, and that living space would commonly have mangers, feeding troughs, for some of the animals so they could be brought in at night if it was too cold in the winter. Bethlehem was too small to have a any formal “inns”, they say, and the word Luke uses could refer to guest rooms or a guest house. So since Joseph was from the line of David, they were at the home of someone in his family, and since all the bedrooms were already full, they had the baby downstairs in the living area. So Jesus being laid in a manger isn’t about rejection, it shows he was born amongst family in a humble home. Still not what you’d expect for a king, but not in a cold, dark cave either.

What we’re talking about here is studying the historical context. You’ve heard us say that context in incredibly important when we read and study the Bible, and that is absolutely true! But when our research into history and context takes us so far that we focus on details that aren’t even there, where we make the text say things it doesn’t actually say, we have a problem.

What is important to Luke, inspired by the Holy Spirit, is that we know that Jesus was born, wrapped in cloth, and laid in a manger because there was no room at the inn. Another example of God using a seemingly normal and mundane situation to accomplish something specific, even if that something was a birth story just strange enough to give the shepherds a unique detail to look for in the coming verses. Let’s transition to them.

Fields and Flocks (Luke 2:8–12)

Now, we can debate the societal perception of Shepherds in Jewish culture in the first century and whether or not they were despised or appreciated. We can theorize as to why God chose them. Or we can simply say “Wow, what a strange and unexpected audience to be the first ones told about the birth of Christ!”

And understandably, like Zechariah and Mary back in chapter 1, the presence of an angel suddenly showing up is frightening to them. But also as in chapter 1, the angel tells them to not be afraid. With Zechariah it was “for your prayer has been heard”, with Mary it was “for you have found favor with God”, and here it is “for behold, I bring you good news of great joy”!

The verb used there for “bring good news” is where we get our English word “evangelize”, to bring the good news, and in a moment we’ll see that this particular good news is going to start a chain reaction of responses. But let’s look at what the angel says, because it’s important in understanding and appreciating those good-news responses.

First, it’s “good news of great joy which will be for all the people”. What is that news? In the city of David (notice the repetition drawing focus to Jesus’ Davidic ancestry and his messianic qualifications) “there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” There’s no mystery here. The angel tells them clearly and directly, the Messiah, the one your people have been waiting on for generations and generations, has been born.

It’s a bold claim, even for an angel. But notice how the angel backs it up: “This will be a sign for you.” It’s borderline prophetic language. It’s an incredibly similar phrase to the prophecy that was given to Ahaz by Isaiah that we looked at a few weeks ago, “The Lord himself will give you a sign: behold, the virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and she will name Him Immanuel.” It’s like the angel is saying “you can look for yourself! Here’s how you can confirm that what I’m telling you is true!” and then gives a detail about the birth that is just strange, unique, and yet specific enough that it’s out of the norm and independently verifiable. There is a baby in a manger.

There’s a common trope in works of fiction, when a character is suspicious and wants to confirm that the information they are receiving is from a specific person. They ask for a fact or quote that only that person would know. That’s not so different to what is happening here, it’s like the angel anticipates disbelief, so it offers verification right from the start. The angel doesn’t tell them to go, it just tells them that the confirmation is out there waiting for them.

So, we have good news: the Messiah has been born! And we have an angel sharing that good news with a group of shepherds nearby. But before we can see how they, and other people, respond to this good news, we have another group entering the scene.

The Responses (Luke 2:13–20)

So, we start off with more angels, a multitude of angels in fact. You thought one was scary? How about a literal army of them? And what is their response to this good news? They worship and glorify God, and acknowledge the way this good news is going to impact the peoples of earth.

Now it’s time for the shepherds to respond. The angels leave and they say “let’s go now and see!” I love the phrasing: “Let’s go straight to Bethlehem”, immediately, no delays. “And see this thing that has happened”, not “if this thing has happened” but let’s go see the thing that has happened. So there’s already an element of belief. “Which the Lord has made known to us”, not “that the angel told us”, but what the Lord, himself has made known to us. We know something from God. Let’s go see it.

They went in a hurry, found what the angel had described, then they made known that which was made known to them. They share the same good news the angel told them, as fact, now confirmed with their own eyes based on the sign the angel described.

So the news from the angel is spreading, and how do the next hearers respond? First, the others around, [vv. 18]. Who was there? Joseph? His family? Mary’s midwife? Random nosey people who heard a baby was born? Luke doesn’t tell us! Just that whoever was there and heard the good news the shepherds shared were amazed!

And who wouldn’t be? A group of strangers show up at your door and say “an angel told us there’s a baby in a manger somewhere in this town. Is that you? Oh by the way, the angel told us this baby is the Messiah! The promised coming savior king that our entire people group have been waiting for hundreds and hundreds of years.” What other word could you use to describe that but “amazing”?

Mary has a response too [vv. 19]. The word Luke uses for “pondering” is literally the idea of throwing together or bringing together. One commentator described it like Mary taking what she’s heard and putting the pieces together like a mental jigsaw puzzle. From the angel she saw, to the events with Elizabeth, to this unique maternity ward, to this group of random shepherds coming to share their own angelic revelation, the pieces are all fitting together, and Mary treasures that knowledge.

And finally the shepherds continue their response. Having seen with their eyes, they now celebrate with their mouths, [vv. 20] “For all the had heard, and seen, just as had been told them.” So praise God for what we heard, praise God for what we saw, and praise God that it was all exactly as the angel told us!

Conclusion and Transition to Communion

And isn’t that the exact response we would expect to such great news? You hear it and celebrate! You see it and celebrate! And then you realize that what you’ve heard and seen confirm that it’s all true and you celebrate some more, telling anyone who will listen what you’ve seen and heard so that they can celebrate along with you!

And that’s exactly what Luke describes in this chapter of scripture. Do we have questions about the details and the drama that our humanness wants answers to? Sure. But as one pastor and theologian wrote, “The Lord didn’t direct Luke’s pen to satisfy our curiosity” (Swindoll, 68). Instead, he wrote exactly what was required to tell us about some incredible news, news that shepherds heard, saw, shared, and celebrated by praising God for this faithfulness!

And as we come to the end of our time together today, I want us to take a moment and acknowledge that we’ve not only heard this great news of Jesus’ birth that is worth sharing and praising God for, but we’ve heard even better news. We have the news that not only did that Messiah come to earth as a baby, but he grew up. He lived a perfect life and eventually died a sacrificial death to pay the cost for the sins of the world so he could do exactly what the angels said: bring peace on earth to people; that is reconciliation between a Holy God and sinful humanity so that by believing in him we can spend eternity with him.

It might seem strange to some to celebrate Christ’s death on the day we celebrate his birth. But that is why he came to earth. “To save his people from their sins” as Matthew says. And just as his people waited and waited and waited for him to come, so too we wait for him to return as he has promised, so that our faith can be made sight. So we can worship for eternity what we have heard and seen, just as has been told us.

And when we take communion, part of what we are doing is declaring that his death was sufficient to accomplish what he came to accomplish. That the battle is already won. That we do not wait in vain, but we wait to see that which has been made known to us.

So today as we take and eat and drink, we remember, we celebrate, and we anticipate.

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