I’ve read a lot of articles and heard a lot of reports in the past few weeks about the holiday blues.  This time of year is a tough time for many.  In that light, I want to point us this morning to a blues song.

A band called Casting Crowns sings a tune called “Every Man.”  The first part of the song is a lament.  Casting Crowns moans about how every man and every woman experiences hopelessness in life.  It doesn’t matter our race, our gender, our age, our income, our political affiliation, our religion, or our nationality.  We all have this in common.  Every man and every woman experiences hopelessness.  Here’s how Casting Crowns puts it:

I’m the man with all I’ve ever wanted

All the toys and playing games

I am the one who pours your coffee, corner booth each Saturday

I am your daughter’s favorite teacher

I am the leader of the band

I sit behind you in the bleachers

I am every man

I’m the coach of every winning team and still a loser in my mind

I am the soldier in the airport facing giants one more time

I am the woman shamed and haunted by the cry of unborn life

I’m every broken man, nervous child, lonely wife

Is there hope for every man

A solid place where we can stand

In this dry and weary land

Is there hope for every man

Is there love that never dies

Is there peace in troubled times

Someone help me understand

Is there hope for every man

Seems there’s just so many roads to travel, it’s hard to tell where they will lead

My life is scarred and my dreams unraveled

Now I’m scared to take the leap

If I could find someone to follow who knows my pain and feels the weight

The uncertainty of my tomorrow, the guilt and pain of yesterday

The man with all the toys.  The one who pours your coffee.  Your daughter’s favorite teacher.  The leader of the band.  The one behind you in the bleachers.  The coach of the winning team.  The soldier in the airport.  The broken man, nervous child, and lonely wife.  Everyone, at some point in life, experiences hopelessness.  Everyone experiences hopelessness.

A late 15^th century morality play takes this one step further.[1] The play is called “The Summoning of Everyman.”  It explores the hopeless which is common among us when it comes to spiritual matters.  The central character in this centuries-old play is called “Everyman.”  He is represents every man and every woman.  What he experiences spiritually in the play is what the author of the play believes everyone experiences.  And here’s the point of the play: Everyone experiences hopelessness before God.

The play opens with God.  And God is singing the blues.  Why?  Because humans have turned away from him.  They no longer seek to please Him.  They are no longer grateful for all God has given them.  So God sends Death to the character called Everyman.  God tells Death to bring Everyman to Him so that Everyman can give an accounting for his life.  The point is that God is calling every man and every woman to give an accounting for their lives.  God will call you to given an accounting for your life.

Death finds Everyman and tells him that it is time to die, and go to God, and explain why he’s done what he’s done with his life.  Everyman protests.  He says that he needs more time to gather what is necessary to give an appropriate accounting of his life.  Everyman even tries to bribe Death.  But Death denies his request.  Still, Death does tell Everyman that he can bring a companion with him to testify on his behalf before God.

So, one by one, Everyman visits a number of companions, asking each one to consider joining him on this journey to God.  Asking each one to consider putting in a good word with God for him.  First, Everyman approaches an individual called Fellowship.  Fellowship stands for Everyman’s friends.  Fellowship explains that he’s happy to eat, drink, and be merry with Everyman in this life.  But he does not wish to follow Everyman into the next life.

Next, Everyman approaches individuals called Kindred and Cousin.  They represent the family members of Everyman.  Everyman begs them to stand by his side when he meets God.  But they refuse.

Third, Everyman asks an individual named Goods.  Goods represents all the wealth and resources which Everyman accumulated during life.  Goods replies that he will not accompany Everyman before God.  Why?  Because, he explains, his presence would only infuriate God.  Everyman never shared Goods with others.  So Goods actually has nothing good to say about Everyman

Fourth, Everyman approaches an individual named Good Deeds.  This is the incarnation of all the good acts Everyman did during his life.  Unfortunately, Good Deeds is not strong enough to even make the trip, because Everyman did not do enough good deeds.  Still, Good Deeds is sympathetic with Everyman.  He wants to help.  So, they shore up the weaknesses of Good Deeds and eventually Good Deeds is able to join Everyman on the journey to God.  Everyman dies and ascends to God with Good Deeds by his side.

As the play closes, the Doctor, representing a scholar, enters and provides an epilogue.  He explains to the audience the moral of the story: In the end we will only have Good Deeds to accompany us beyond the grave.

I’m not certain of the original author’s intention.  But I do know how this production plays today—it’s a tragedy.  The play is suggesting that our only hope before the holy God is our good deeds.  The play is stating that the only witness to testify on behalf of every man and every woman is Good Deeds.  And I don’t know about you, but my Good Deeds are not strong enough to make that journey.  My Good Deeds offer little in the way of a heaven-earning testimony before God.  If Good Deeds are our only companion, then everyone is facing hopelessness before God.

That’s the context in which we must listen to the genealogy of Jesus found in Luke’s Gospel.  On Sunday mornings we’ve been listening to the genealogies, the family trees, of Jesus found in Matthew’s Gospel and Luke’s Gospel.  We’ve heard several times that Luke and Matthew are not just interested in chronology.  They are interested in theology.  There are not just trying to explain something about grandmothers and great grandfathers.  They are trying to explain something about who God is and how God works.  The genealogies are windows into the heart of God.

There are significant differences between Matthew’s genealogy, which was the focus of our first two Sundays, and Luke’s genealogy, which is our focus this morning.  The one difference I want to draw your attention to is how far back these genealogies go.  Matthew, like a good Jewish writer would, begins his genealogy at the end—in his case with Abraham and King David—and works forward toward Jesus.  Luke, however, like a good non-Jewish writer would, begins with Jesus and works backward.

And Matthew’s genealogy traces the lineage only as far as Abraham and David.  Matthew only traces Jesus’ family tree back to the two heroes of the Jewish faith—Abraham and King David.  He stops there.  Why?  Because what Matthew most wants us to know about Jesus is that he descended from Abraham—the father of the Jewish faith, and from David—the great warrior, poet, and King of the Jewish faith.

But that might cause some problems.  After all, how many of us are Jewish?  If Matthew’s genealogy is the only one we had, those of us with no Jewish roots might feel left out.  We might think, “Oh, so Jesus is for the Jews.  Jesus descended from the heroes of the Jewish faith.  He stands with the Jews.  But that makes Jesus sound exclusive.  He belongs to one nation.  He belongs to one ethnicity.  He belongs to one religion.  What about the rest of us?  Does Jesus stand with us?”

This may be why Luke offers a complementary genealogy.  Luke’s family tree keeps going way beyond where Matthew’s stops.  The last branch in Matthew’s Christmas Family Tree is Abraham.  But notice how many more branches Luke provides: ³⁴ the son of Jacob, the son of Isaac, the son of Abraham, the son of Terah, the son of Nahor, ³⁵the son of Serug, the son of Reu, the son of Peleg, the son of Eber, the son of Shelah, ³⁶the son of Cainan, the son of Arphaxad, the son of Shem, the son of Noah, the son of Lamech, ³⁷the son of Methuselah, the son of Enoch, the son of Jared, the son of Mahalaleel, the son of Cainan, ³⁸the son of Enos, the son of Seth, the son of Adam, the son of God. (Luke 3:34-38 ESV).  Matthew traces Jesus’ genealogy only back to Abraham and David.  But Luke traces Jesus’ genealogy all the way back to Adam, the very first human being.

Now, your first reaction to that may be “So what?  What’s the big deal?  Aren’t we all descended from Adam?  What’s so special about Jesus being a descendant of Adam?  Isn’t every single human being, according the Bible, descended from Adam?  Doesn’t everyone have this one thing in common?”  And Luke would say, “That’s the point.”  Luke would say, “What I want to show you about Jesus is not something that makes him stand out.  What I want to show you about Jesus is something that makes him blend in.  Something that makes him just like every man and every woman who has ever lived.  What I want to show you about Jesus is that according to his family tree, he stands for all of us.  He shares what all of us share.  Just like all of us, his family tree goes all the way back to Adam.“

Scholars are nearly unanimous in their conclusion about why that would be important to Luke.  It was important because Luke, above all other writers, wants to show that Jesus is the hope not just of one racial group, one nation, one gender, one tribe, one ethnic group, or one religion.  Luke wanted to show that Jesus is the hope for every man and every woman.  Luke’s message was this: Jesus is the hope for everyone.

This tune is sounded again and again in Luke’s gospel and in his Volume 2, the Book of Acts:

• And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.  (Luke 2:10 ESV)
• …and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’” (Luke 3:6 ESV)
• and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem.  (Luke 24:47 ESV)
• But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.” (Acts 1:8 ESV)
• “‘And in the last days it shall be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh (Acts 2:17 ESV).
• And it shall come to pass that everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ (Acts 2:21 ESV)
• To him all the prophets bear witness that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.” (Acts 10:43 ESV)
• For so the Lord has commanded us, saying, “‘I have made you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring salvation to the ends of the earth.’” (Acts 13:47 ESV).

What Luke wanted us to know is that Jesus is the hope for everyone.  Not just one nation.  Not just one gender.  Not just one religion.  Not just one ethnicity.  Jesus is the hope for everyone.  Every man and every woman finds hope in Jesus Christ.  Because of him “all the people” can receive great joy on Christmas.  Because of him “all flesh” may see the salvation of God.  Because of him “all nations” can repent and be forgiven.  Because of him, God’s Spirit is poured out on “all flesh.”  Because of him “everyone” who calls upon God will be saved.

And that’s why Luke traces Jesus’ family tree all the way back to Adam, the one ancestor whom we all share, the one from whom  we are all descended.  He wants us to know that Jesus is not just the son of Abraham and the son of David.  Jesus doesn’t just stand with the Jews.  Jesus is also the son of Adam.  Jesus stands with all of us.

And thus the lament sung by Casting Crowns turns on its head and becomes a note of joy.  For they sing:

There is hope for every man

A solid place where we can stand

In this dry and weary land

There is hope for every man

There is Love that never dies

There is peace in troubled times

Will we help them understand?

Jesus is hope for every man

Jesus is the hope for everyone.  That’s Luke’s Gospel.  That’s what he wants you to know about the birth of Jesus and the family tree of Jesus.  Jesus is your hope.  Jesus is your salvation.  Jesus is your joy.  No matter what race you are.  No matter what gender you are.  No matter what religion you are.  No matter what the rest of your family tree looks like.  Jesus is hope for every man.  He is therefore hope for you.

Now, for just a second, let me put the emphasis on the word Jesus: Jesus is the hope for everyone.  There’s something challenging about Luke’s Christmas Family Tree.  Because when he says that Jesus is the hope for everyone, he’s saying that there is no hope but Jesus.  Your family is not your hope.  Your Good Deeds are not your hope.  Lots of presents under the tree are not your hope.  The name on the church building is not your hope.  Your job is not your hope.  Your income is not your hope.  Your racial heritage is not your hope.  The U.S. government is not your hope.  The City Council is not your hope.  Your boyfriend or girlfriend is not your hope.  Buddha is not the hope of the world.  Muhammad is not the hope of the world.  Abraham is not the hope of the world.  David is not the hope of the world.  Your only hope, and the only hope for every person on this planet is Jesus Christ.  To put hope in anything else is to remain hopeless.  That’s the challenge of Luke’s Christmas Family Tree.

But the good news is that Jesus is the hope for everyone. In his book Deserted by God? Sinclair Ferguson shares this story:[2] The first physician to die of the AIDS virus in the United Kingdom was a young Christian. He had contracted it while doing medical research in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe. In the last days of his life, his power of communication failed. He struggled with increasing difficulty to express his thoughts to his wife. On one occasion she simply could not understand his message. He wrote on a note pad the letter J. She ran through her medical dictionary, saying various words beginning with J. None was right. Then she said, “Jesus?”  That was the right word. He was with them. That was all either of them needed to know. [And] that is always enough. What Luke wants you to know is that hope is spelled with the letter J.  Even in the worst of situations, hope is spelled with the letter J.  That’s all you’ll ever really need.

National Geographic researchers recently worked to figure out what Everyman looks like.  If you could take the physical qualities and characteristics most common among the most people in the world today, and combine them, what would it look like?  Watch this video:

Some of us may be surprised that Everyman is Chinese, speaks Mandarin, has no car, and is a Christian.  In the same way, we may be surprised about Luke’s claim regarding the hope of Everyman.  What does the hope of Everyman look like?  He’s not a warrior.  He’s not political leader.  He’s not flamboyant.  He’s easy to miss in a crowd.  In fact, he was born in a stable, to an unwed mother, and he died the shameful death of a criminal.  But he is the hope of Everyman.  He is Jesus.

Please stand.  I want to guide us in a few seconds of prayer and reflection.  Close your eyes.  “Father, we struggle with hope.  We so often put our hope in the wrong thing or the wrong person.  This morning Father, we want to admit one wrong thing we’ve put our hope in.  Hear us right now as each of us silently completes this sentence: I have put my hope in ____________.  But God we want to put our hope in Jesus.  No matter who we are, we know he is our true hope.  Hear us right now as each of us silently says this to you: I now put my hope in Jesus.  Thank you Father for filling us with hope.  We pray in Jesus’ name.  Amen.”

[2] Sinclair Ferguson, Deserted by God? (Banner of Truth, 1993), 51.

I’d like to start with two questions.  First, how many of you have a “black sheep” in the family, a misfit in the family, a crazy uncle or a wild brother or a weird sister or an unusual grandparent?  Second, how many of you talked about that black sheep recently at a meal?  In the New York Times Margo Kaufman writes about holiday family meals: “When families gather around the holiday table for the traditional feast, there is traditionally one person who is conspicuous by either absence or presence.  Male or female, rich or poor, married or single, young or old, teetotaler or alcoholic – this person is often the object of ridicule, pity, envy, awe, fear, scorn, embarrassment or secret admiration, for as the proverb goes: ‘There is a black sheep in every fold.‘”[1] Thanksgiving and Christmas may be times when we are especially reminded of our family’s “black sheep.”  Most of us have one or two and when we get together for holiday meals our conversation inevitably turns to them.

Earlier this year the New York Post reported on the upcoming royal wedding between Kate Middleton and Prince William.  The author discussed family members of Kate’s who probably would not be invited to the wedding: a burlesque-dancing cousin named Katrine and an Uncle Gary who was once caught selling cocaine.  These were two, the reporter said, of the “black sheep” of the Middleton family.  And their presence at the wedding would have cast Kate in a negative light.

The 1996 film “Black Sheep” told the fictional story of Al Donnelly.  Donnelly was a candidate for the governor of Washington State.  His bid for the governorship, however, was threatened by his unruly brother Mike.  Eventually Donnelly hired someone to keep his brother under wraps until the election was over.  He didn’t want voters to make assumptions about him based on this “black sheep.”

Black sheep often cast other family members in a negative light. People make assumptions about the whole family because of the behavior one misfit.  And especially if you are in a position of power or influence, you want to keep your black sheep secret.  We don’t want people reaching conclusions about us based on what they see in the most misfit members of our family.

The same thing was true for those who lived in Jesus’ day.  Our current Sunday morning series is focused on the family tree of Jesus, found in Matthew 1 and Luke 3.  And as I briefly noted last Sunday, ancient genealogies were very common.  A good genealogy, a good family tree, could enhance your standing and prove your worth.  A bad genealogy tree could diminish your standing and raise questions about your worth.  In other words, a black sheep in your genealogy could cast you in a negative light.

And this makes Matthew’s genealogy very surprising.  Because he includes some black sheep that he easily could have kept secret.  To appreciate what Matthew’s done, we need to understand that ancient genealogies generally only needed to include male ancestors.[2] You might add the names of women ancestors if their presence added to dignity of the family.[3] But otherwise you’d leave them out.  Breaking custom, Matthew includes four women (besides Jesus’ mother Mary) in the genealogy of Jesus.  And the women he chose to include are questionable.  If Matthew was going to include women in Jesus’ genealogy, it would have made sense for him to include the names of four different women: Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, and Leah.  These were considered to be the four model matriarchs of Judaism.  There was even a song known from after the time of Jesus which Jews taught their children.  This song went something like this: “Who knows four?  I know four.  Four are the matriarchs; three are the patriarchs; two are the tablets of the covenant; one is our God…”  The four matriarchs were Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel and Leah.[4] These would have been natural for Matthew to include because they could have added to the dignity of Jesus’ family tree.

Yet Matthew decided to highlight four different women, four “black sheep”: Tamar (Matt. 1:3), Rahab (Matt. 1:5), Ruth (Matt. 1:5), and “the wife of Uriah” also known as Basheba (Matt. 1:6).  We would consider these women misfits.  They would have been likely to create some controversy.  In fact, they could have easily cast Jesus in a negative light. Let’s take a brief look at these four women.

First, Tamar.  Tamar was a Canaanite woman (a non-Jewish woman) who became the wife of a man named Er.  Er was the oldest son of a man named Judah (Gen. 38).  Er died and Judah, the father-in-law ordered his second son, Onan, to father a child with Tamar.  Onan refused and died.  Judah then proposed that his daughter-in-law return to her family’s home until Judah’s youngest son matured to the point that he might father a child with Tamar.  She did this very thing.  But Judah forgot about Tamar.  He abandoned his daughter-in-law.  He left her with no husband to provide for her and no child to carry on the family name.  Desperate, Tamar disguised herself as a prostitute and tricked her father-in-law Judah into sleeping with her.  Tamar became pregnant.  And Tamar’s offspring became an ancestor of King David who became an ancestor of Jesus.  Matthew intentionally highlight’s this unusual woman in Jesus’ genealogy.

Second, Rahab.  Rahab was a prostitute in the non-Jewish city of Jericho.  When the Israelites sent in spies to Canaan, they stayed in Rahab’s home which was located in the wall that protected Jericho (Josh. 2).  After hiding the spies on the roof and helping them escape, Rahab asked that she and her family might be spared when the Israelites returned and invaded the city.  Her request was granted and only Rahab and her family survived the conquest of Jericho (Josh 6).  Rahab the pagan prostitute is the mother of a child who is an ancestor of Jesus.  Matthew intentionally highlighted her in this genealogy.

Third, Ruth.  A family of four moved from Bethlehem to the country of Moab during a famine.   The two Jewish sons married two non-Jewish women: Orpah and Ruth.  The father died.  The two sons died.  Naomi, the mother, was left without her husband and her two sons.  She decided to return to Israel because she heard the famine was over.  She persuaded one daughter-in-law, Orpah, to remain in Moab, her home.  But Ruth, the other daughter-in-law refused to stay.  She was determined to go to Israel with Naomi.  And in a famous line, she said to Naomi, “Your people shall be my people, and your God my God.” (Ruth 1:16 ESV).  The line, of course, indicates that Israel was not Ruth’s people and Israel’s God was not her God.  Ruth ends up marrying and giving birth to the grandfather of King David, an ancestor of Jesus.

Finally, “the wife of Uriah.”  Bathsheba is married to a Hittite (a non-Jewish man) named Uriah (2 Sam. 11).  Uriah is one of King David’s top military heroes.  One day, while the army, including Uriah, are at battle, King David spies Bathsheba taking her evening bath.  He sends for Bathsheba and has sexual intercourse with her.  When the king later learns that Bathsheba is pregnant, he orders Uriah back to Jerusalem from the front lines.  He hopes Uriah will sleep with his wife Bathsheba and that everyone will thus conclude that the baby is Uriah’s and not King David’s.  But Uriah refused to go home and sleep with Bathsheba.  Frustrated, David sent him back to the battle and ordered Uriah to be placed on the front lines and then abandoned.  As a result, Uriah was killed.  David then married Bathsheba, but their child died.  Bathsheba had other children by David.  And this lineage eventually led to Jesus.

Matthew chose to highlight these four women.  And the women and their circumstances could have easily cast Jesus in a negative light.  Consider the circumstances of these black sheep.  Tamar is the victim of a father-in-law who is, at best, neglectful, and, at worst, a sexual scoundrel.  Bathsheba is the victim (we’re not sure how willing she was) of a king bent on sexual conquest and willing to commit murder to cover up the act.  Just the circumstances surrounding these women could have raised questions about Jesus.

But consider the women themselves.  It’s not that they are sinful and the others in the family tree are not sinful.  But they do have qualities which, nonetheless, would have made them less than desirable for including in Jesus’ family tree.  Most significantly, all four of these women share a non-Jewish background.[5] Tamar is a Canaanite woman.  Rahab is from Jericho, a Canaanite city.  Ruth is from Moab, a non- Jewish country.  And Bathsheba is married to a Hittite, a non-Jew.  Most writers of Jewish genealogies would have done everything they could to keep any mention of Gentiles out of the genealogy because their presence contaminates the blood line.[6] But Matthew draws attention to these four women with non-Jewish ancestries.

In addition, we can assume that at least Rahab and Ruth actively worshiped a god who was not the true God.  Growing up in Jericho and Moab, both of them would have had faith in and worshiped gods who were not the true God of the Bible.

Further, Tamar is a widow—a person often neglected in ancient societies.  Rahab was a prostitute—definitely someone on the fringe of society.  Bathsheba was an adulteress.

In a word, all four all “outsiders.”  Matthew highlights these women who turn out to be national, racial, societal, spiritual and moral outsiders. They are racial and national outsiders.  They come from or are associated with foreign countries and foreign ethnicities.  In addition, Tamar is an outsider in terms of society—she is an abandoned widow.  Rahab is a moral outsider—a prostitute in a foreign city.  Bathsheba may be a moral outsider–an adulteress, though we do not know how willing or unwilling she was.  And Ruth and Rahab, are at the very least, spiritual outsiders—they worship a different god.  They are all outsiders.

And the question is this: why would Matthew include these outsiders in Jesus’ genealogy?  We might think that their presence casts Jesus in a negative light.  But the opposite is actually true.  Matthew highlights these four outsiders because they cast Jesus in a positive light. Scholar Frederick Dale Bruner writes this: ““God did not begin to stoop into our sordid human story at Christmas only; he was stooping all the way through the Old Testament.”[7] Matthew wants to paint Jesus as the stooping saviror.  He wants to introduce Jesus as one who did not start stooping to our level at the manger.  He stooped through his entire family tree.  He stooped through racial outsiders.  He stooped through national outsiders.  He stooped through societal outsiders.  He stooped through spiritual outsiders.  He stooped through moral outsiders.

And this amazing claim hits home in at least two ways.  First, Jesus’ family tree of outsiders means we should welcome outsiders who are unlike us.

A couple of weeks ago I attended a gathering of Memphis organizations who serve ex-felons.  One man named Duane was introduced and came to the stage.  He shared how several years ago he had served two years in prison.  When released, he returned to his wife and family in Memphis.  He started a cleaning business.  Eventually he won the cleaning contract for a large Memphis hospital.  He and his wife started earning a good living through the business.  But one day he was called into the office of his supervisor at the hospital.  During a routine background check, they had discovered that he was an ex-felon.  When Duane confirmed this, they fired him.  No questions asked.  He had provided excellent service for months.  But once they learned he had spent time in prison, they wanted nothing to do with him.  His business dried up.  Within a few months, he and his wife defaulted on the mortgage of their home in Cordova.  They and their five children became homeless.  Through the kindness of a friend, they found a hotel they could stay in for three weeks.  Then the hotel was sold and they were kicked out.  They had to live in substandard housing for months before Duane was finally able to start generating income again.  After the speech, one of the hosts of the gathering got up and said, “In many ways, people like Duane are the lepers of our society.  Even when they admit they’ve made mistakes, even when they show discipline and determination, even when they become model citizens, they are treated as less than human.  Because of something that happened in their past, they are rejected and outcast.”

I suppose that last line describes some of us.  Because of something that’s happened in our past, we often feel rejected and outcast.  But it certainly describes a lot of people around us.  We are surrounded every day by invisible people who feel rejected and outcast.   They don’t talk like us.  They don’t look like us.  They don’t think like us.  They don’t dress like us.  And they don’t smell like us.  And our tendency is to ignore them at best, or to reject them at worst.  But the fact that Jesus comes from a long lineage of outsiders demands that we repent.  It demands that we accept those others will not.  It means that we as individuals, as families, as Reach Groups, as Sunday School classes, and as a church welcome and embrace true outsiders—the ones whom everyone else makes fun of, labels, neglects, or condemns.  As followers of Jesus, his genealogy sets the pattern for our lives.  Jesus’ family tree included many true outsiders.  Ours must as well.

Second, Jesus’ family tree of outsiders means Jesus welcomes outsiders like us.

Julie Fowler is a long-time supporter of HopeWorks and often serves as a faith encourager.  Recently she met with a student at HopeWorks.  And this student was struggling greatly in her spiritual life.  Because of something in her past, she felt judged and rejected by others in the program.  She was a former prostitute.  And as she shared this with Julie, Julie was inspired.  She turned to Matt. 1 and read this genealogy to the student.  Julie gave special emphasis to Matt. 1:5 which mentions Rahab.  Rahab the prostitute.  And Julie showed how this prostitute was actually one of the ancestors of Jesus Christ himself.  When Julie was finished sharing, the student started crying.  She said, “No one ever showed that to me before.”  She couldn’t believe it.  But she now knew without a doubt that Jesus accepted her and loved her.  If Jesus had come from a prostitute, he would certainly welcome a prostitute.

Jesus’ genealogy is Matthew’s attempt to say to people like her and all of us who feel like outsiders with God: Jesus welcomes you and desires to work through you.  Others may treat you as less than human.  But in Jesus God stoops to your level.  While others cast you out, Jesus welcomes you in.  While others reject you, Jesus accepts you.  While others say you’re good for nothing, Jesus says you’re good enough for him.  The presence of these four outsiders in Jesus’ genealogy stand as proof.  Jesus’ family tree of outsiders means he welcomes outsiders just like us.

In our response time this morning, let’s consider both sides of this issue.  First, are we welcoming outsiders?  Second, are we accepting Jesus’ welcome of us?  Our elders host a time of prayer and counseling after each service at The Shepherd’s Corner.  It’s located right by the church office.  And if you’d like to pray with them about one of those two issues, I urge you to stop by The Shepherd’s Corner this morning.  We’d also be happy to pray with you right now.  Are you welcoming outsiders?  Are you accepting Jesus’ welcome of you?  If we can help you answer one of those questions positively, come as we stand and sing.

[2] Ibid., 79-80.

[3] Frederick Dale Bruner Matthew: A Commentary Volume 1 (Word, 1987), 5-6.

[4] Ibid., 6-7.

[5] Ben Witherington III Matthew Smyth & Helwys Bible Commentary (Smyth & Helwys, 2006), 40.

[6] Keener, 40.

[7] Bruner, 6.

The popular sci-fi movie “Star Wars” featured a planet called Tatooine on which Luke Skywalker lived.  This planet orbited around two suns.  And earlier this year astronomers discovered a real Tatooine.  They located a real planet orbiting around two suns.  This video shows a planet named Kepler 16b crusing around a smaller red sun and a larger orange sun.  The planet takes 229 days to make the circuit.  Scientists were thrilled to find this—a two-sun solar system.

In our text this morning Matthew is going to paint the story of the Old Testament as a two-sun solar system.  Matthew is going to provide a way of viewing the Old Testament which has two center-points.  There are over 900 chapters in the Old Testament.  Someone has suggested that there are over 3,000 peopled named in the Old Testament.  And there are over 23,000 verses in the Old Testament.  But Matthew’s going to give us a way to cut through all of that.  Of the hundreds of chapters, and thousands of verses and individuals in the Old Testament, Matthew’s going to tell us that it comes down to just two.  Everything in the Old Testament revolves around these two items.

Matthew’s two-sun solar system portrait of the Old Testament is found in Matt. 1:1-17.  This is a text which even the most avid Bible readers skip.  Most people believe this text is just too boring to pay attention to.  It’s called a genealogy.  We might call it a family tree.  It tells us about Jesus’ ancestors.  These are people whose stories are told in the Old Testament.    And in our three-part series called “A Christmas Family Tree” we’re going to explore the family tree found in Matt. 1 and in Luke 3.

There are five things you need to know about genealogies like these.[1]

1. First, genealogies were common in ancient biographies.  Ancient biographers often began by writing about the birth and ancestors of the one who was the focus of their biography.  Matthew begins his biography of Jesus with this genealogy and then he tells the story of Jesus’ birth.
2. Second, genealogies were common among priest’s families. Some genealogies of Jewish priests were preserved in the Temple.  Those of upper-class priests traced back to the pre-exilic period.  That is, they could trace their family tree back beyond the time when Israel was exiled to Babylon.
3. Third, genealogies were used to determine rights to royalty and inheritance.  A genealogy could qualify or disqualify a son to be the next in line for the throne.  In a similar way, genealogies were used to determine if a member of a family had any inheritance rights.
4. Fourth, genealogies could be used to prove the racial purity of a family or an individual.  This was especially true of Jews.  Their genealogies were used to show that their bloodlines were pure and contained no Gentile blood.
5. Fifth, genealogies were testimonies to God’s providence.  Jewish people believed God was at work bringing these husbands and wives together and blessing them with children.  Thus genealogies served as a testimony of God’s providence in a family’s life.

And this is where Matthew’s genealogy fits.  Matthew’s list of names is actually a testimony of God’s work in the world.  It’s one of the most powerful testimonies of God’s work in the Old Testament.

And Matthew shows this divine work as a kind of two-sun solar system.  His genealogy of Jesus and thus is overview of Old Testament history centers on two individuals.  The first sun in Matthew’s Old Testament solar system is Abraham.  Notice how Matthew begins:  ¹The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham. (Matt. 1:1 ESV).

For Matthew, the place to begin thinking about Jesus is Abraham.  The place to begin watching God’s work is Abraham.  The place to begin understanding the Old Testament is Abraham.  Why?

There’s something very fundamental that answers this question.  When my children were younger, Kendra and I read an important book to them.  The book was authored by John Trent.  It was called I’d Choose You.  The book described a young elephant named Norbert who had a pretty tough day.  He had to sit all by himself on the roller coaster to school while all his friends sat with each other.  And the day went downhill from there.  But when Norbert got home from school, his mother and father “blessed” him.  The book is based on the Old Testament concept of blessing.  The author examined Old Testament references to blessing and found that there were five aspects of blessing.  First, there was the giving of meaningful and appropriate touch.  Thus in the story Norbert is hugged by his parents after his hard day.  Second, there was the speaking of words of affirmation.  Thus, in the story Norbert elephant is cheered vocally by his parents.  Third, there is the expressing of high value.  Thus in the story Norbert receives a “You’re Someone Special” medal from his parents.  Fourth, there is the picturing of a special future.  Thus Norbert’s parents help him see that tomorrow will be better.  Finally, there is the commitment to continue to bless.  And by the end of the story we realize Norbert’s parents will bless him the rest of their lives.  The book is really about how we all long for blessing.

As Harold Shank shared with us a few months ago, many of us have never been blessed in this way.  Harold said that as a professor at Oklahoma Christian University he would often devote part of a class to talking about the Old Testament idea of blessing.  Then he would bless the students by telling them how valuable they were to God, what a special future God had for them, and how God would stick with them no matter what.  And students would cry, because they’d never been blessed like that before.

That blessing is what Matthew has in mind by mentioning Abraham as one of the center points of the Old Testament and of Jesus’ family tree.  The story of Abraham is the story of a promise.  It’s a promise of blessing: “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.  I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” (Gen. 12:2-3 ESV).  For Matthew, the entire story of the Old Testament revolves around a promise of blessing.  God wants to bless every person in every nation.  He wants to demonstrate how valuable we are to him.  He wants to affirm the worth of all of us.  He wants to express what a special future he has for us.  And he promises to do this through Abraham’s descendants.

That’s a sun around which the entire Old Testament revolves.  That’s a sun around which the story of Jesus revolves.  Its message is this: God wants to bless you.  You are valuable to God.  You are worth a great deal to God.  God has a special future for you.

But for Matthew, there is another person who is central in the genealogy and thus central to the Old Testament.  The second sun is David. Matthew traces the lineage from Abraham to David.  And he summarizes the genealogy in verse 1 by saying that this is “the book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.”  For Matthew, everything you need to know about Jesus’ family tree and thus the Old Testament is in this one phrase: “the son of David, the son of Abraham.”

Matthew also draws attention to David at the end of the genealogy: ¹⁷So all the generations from Abraham to David were fourteen generations, and from David to the deportation to Babylon fourteen generations, and from the deportation to Babylon to the Christ fourteen generations. (Matt. 1:17 ESV)  Matthew uses the number 14 to point to David.[2] In Hebrew, the language of the Old Testament, it was possible to assign numerical values to letters.  And the numerical value of the letters in David’s Hebrew name is 14.  The number 14 was Matthew’s way of saying that every person in Jesus’ genealogy points to David.  Every event in the Old Testament points to David.  But why?

This can be answered by recent events.  During the second week of November many sports fans were stunned when the Board of Regents of Penn State University fired the University President and famed football coach Joe Paterno.  The cuts came after the arrest of former defensive coordinator Jerry Sandusky on molestation charges.  Board members felt that that the University President and football coach did not do enough to stop Sandusky’s misbehavior.  Around the same time we heard news of Greece’s Prime Minister George Papandreou stepping down due to his inability to overcome Greece’s financial turmoil.  Days later Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi promised to resign over similar difficulties.  We are living through a period of leadership failure.  Leaders are falling.  People all over the world are longing for leaders who will put the people first, lead with integrity, and usher in better times.

This longing for leadership is central to the story of David.  Like the story of Abraham, the story of David in the Old Testament is the story of a promise.  It is the promise of leadership.  God swears to David in 2 Sam., ¹² When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come from your body, and I will establish his kingdom.¹³ He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever (2 Sam. 7:12-13 ESV).  Later Isaiah would say this about David’s heir: Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end, on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish it and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and forevermore (Is. 9:7 ESV).  The story of David is the story of a promise of leadership.  A promise of a leader who has the ability to create peace and righteousness and justice.  A leader who never abuses power and who always thinks of his people.  This promise will be fulfilled through David’s descendants.

The story of the Old Testament is that through David, God promises to bring a leader into your life, into the life of every person, who leads in a right way.  A leader who will bring you justice and righteousness.  A leader who will bring peace to your heart and to our world.

For Matthew, these are the two promises around which the entire Old Testament revolves: a promise of blessing and promise of leadership.

And these two promises, according to Matthew, are fulfilled through Jesus’ birth.  That’s one of the points of Matthew’s genealogy.  Because his family line goes back to David and to Abraham, infant Jesus is the one who fulfills both the promise to Abraham and the promise to David.  Through infant Jesus comes the blessing that every person longs for.  Through infant Jesus comes a leader with the justice and righteous and peace we hope for.  Through Jesus’ birth, God is saying to you, “You are valuable to me.  You have worth to me.  I have a special future for you.”  Through Jesus’ birth, God is saying to you, “My son can lead you.  My son can rule with integrity.  My son can provide what no other ruler can.”

For Matthew, Jesus is now the true sun of the solar system of our lives. Ultimately Abraham and David merely pointed to their great-great-great-great grandchild Jesus.  Jesus is now the sun around which the entire Bible revolves; around which the entire cosmos revolves.

Matthew even uses special language to make this point.  In vs. 1 Matthew literally writes “the book of the genesis of Jesus Christ.”  The word “genesis” ought to swing our minds back to the book of Genesis.  There, a new world began.  Something fresh was started.  A new sun rose bringing with it hope and life.  Matthew is saying that the birth of Jesus is something similar.  It is another genesis.  It is a sun rising bringing with it hope and life.  Bringing blessing and leadership.

But let me point out one more aspect of this genealogy.  The genealogy is made of three blocks of 14 names.  The first 14 names move from Abraham to David.  There’s a kind of upward movement as they climax with King David.  But the next 14 names move downward.  They take us from the golden days of King David to the dark days when the Jewish people were exiled to Babylon.  It was the lowest moment in Jewish history.  The final 14 names then move upward from the exile in Babylon to the birth of Jesus.[3]

Consider this movement.  It means that the people of God suffered years of exile when it appeared that the sun had set on God’s promise to Abraham and to David.  In exile, their spiritual universe no longer had any sun.  When the Babylonians came, they demolished Jerusalem and dragged the people away to a foreign country.  Stranded there in exile, the people felt they no longer had value in God’s eyes.  They no longer mattered to God.  They no longer had a special future with God.  They no longer had a leader in whom they could trust.  A leader who would make the wrong things right.  When the exile began, their hope in the promises to Abraham and David ended.  In the darkness of the exile, it seemed the sun had set on the promise of blessing and leadership.

And aren’t there times when it seems that sun has set in our own world?  Brishan, Candice and I met with Jon Arnett a few weeks ago.  Jon oversees the Sightseer class for those who want to learn more about Highland.  As we sat down to discuss the class, Jon shared that another round of cuts had just gone through the corporation he works for.  Hundreds were being let go.  Hundreds of more cuts were to follow.  And we felt for those affected.  To lose a job, especially during the holidays, is so hard.  I have no doubt that some of them felt a kind of cold blackness, as if the sun had set.

For some of us the holidays are not the most wonderful time of the year.  They are the most difficult time of the year.  Because of death, sickness, loneliness, or financial loss, it feels as if the sun has set on the promises of God.  And we wonder if God is really going to come through.

But notice that in Matthew’s genealogy, while there is downward movement, there is also eventually upward movement.  Eventually the exile ends and Jesus is born.  Eventually God’s promises of blessing and leadership are fulfilled through Jesus’ birth.  And what Matthew wants us to know through that movement is that the sun has not set on God’s promises to us through Jesus.  For Matthew, Christmas is about the fact that eventually, hope always wins.  Eventually, God’s promises are always kept.  Eventually, divine blessing and leadership always arrive.  It may not come in the time we anticipated.  It may not come in the form we imagine.  In fact it may show up as a baby lying in a manger.  But eventually, the sun always rises.  God’s promises are always kept.

So as you celebrate with trees and presents and meals this Christmas, pay special attention to the lights.  Let the lights remind you of the sun.  Let the lights remind you that everything in your life revolves around that sun of Jesus Christ and its certainty.  And though you may have experiences that gnaw at your soul, making you wonder if God is there, if God does care, if you do have worth in his sight, and if there is any leader out there worth following, remember the sun of Jesus Christ.  No matter the darkness, that sun eventually rises.  All the promises and hopes pinned to Jesus Christ will come true.  God will come through for you in the end.

[2] Frederick Dale Bruner Matthew: A Commentary Volume 1 (Word, 1987), 20.

[3] Bruner, 4.

I can’t point to any studies, but I have some certainty that the most-asked question today around the United States is this: “What did you get for Christmas?”  Many of us spent some time opening a present or two yesterday.  And today, the day after Christmas, we’re asking people all around us: “What did you get for Christmas?”  In fact, let’s take some time to ask each other that question.  Lean over to the person near you and ask what he/she got for Christmas…

Let’s hear from some of our younger worshippers.  If you are in 5^th grade or younger and would be willing to tell us one thing you got for Christmas, raise your hand…

For about three weeks, I’ve been asking people to write me regarding the best Christmas gift they ever got.  Here are some of their answers:

• Tiffani, a friend from high school, writes that one Christmas when she was 10, her mom made her a life-sized rag doll.  She writes, “The doll was like a friend to me and she became more special as I began to realize how many nights my mother must have stayed up to make her for me.”
• Morrisa, the wife of a high school friend, told of being 8 and receiving the Golden Rule Encyclopedia.  She writes, “Each new letter began with a history of that letter in four different languages. I think it was 20 volumes to the set – better than the cowboy boots and six shooter!”  (Obviously Morrisa was a geek.)
• Highland member Lynn Morris writes this: “Well, since amazement was at a peak when I was a little girl, it is, hands down, my first & only Barbie doll. She was dressed in a black sequined evening gown & I knew Santa had placed her under my tree because I had bravely sat on his lap & asked him to bring me one. It may sound trite, but for a little girl who grew up with very little, this was a very big deal.”

Many of us have received some wonderful gifts over the years for Christmas.

But no gift can match the gift given us by Jesus at the first Christmas.  One of the things John focuses on in his account of the birth of Jesus is the gift Jesus brings: 14And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. 15( John bore witness about him, and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks before me, because he was before me.’”) 16And from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. 17For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. 18 No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known. (Jn. 1:14-18 ESV).  Three times John describes us the gift Jesus brought on that first Christmas: “full of grace and truth (v. 14)”; “grace upon grace (v. 16),”; and “grace and truth (v. 17).”  The best gift we ever received is this first Christmas gift of grace and truth.  When Jesus came to earth and the Word became flesh, he came not with a bag full of packages and presents, he came as a God full of grace and truth.

There is widespread agreement among New Testament scholars that John’s pair of words “grace and truth” are borrowed from Ex. 34:6.  We’ve already seen two ways in which John’s account borrows from Exodus: his use of the word “tabernacle” (translated “dwelt”) in vs. 14 and his use of the word “glory” in v. 14.  This morning we’ll note how John’s words “grace and truth” come from Ex. 34.

By this point, Moses has come down from the mountain where he’s been with God.  As he witnesses the idolatry of the people who’ve turned their backs on God, Moses smashes the two stone tablets to pieces—the tablets on which were written the Ten Commandments.  Chaos ensues.  In the aftermath, everyone has questions.  What is God going to do?  Will God abandon them as they’ve abandoned him?  Will God give them what they deserve?  Moses climbs back up to Mount Sinai where God has promised to write two more stone tablets of Ten Commandments.  And God appears to Moses: 5The LORD descended in the cloud and stood with him there, and proclaimed the name of the LORD. 6The LORD passed before him and proclaimed, “The LORD, the LORD, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, 7 keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin…(Ex. 34:5-7 ESV).  What God most wants to communicate to Moses, and through Moses to the people, is that in spite of the people’s grievous sin, God is a God of “love and faithfulness.”  The Hebrew words “love and faithfulness” are rendered by John with the Greek words “grace and truth.”  John’s word “grace” is equivalent to God’s word “love” in Ex. 34.  To love is to extend grace, to give what is undeserved and unexpected.  John’s word “truth” is equivalent to God’s word “faithfulness” in Ex. 34.  Someone who is true is someone who is faithful, someone who is loyal even when he has reason to not be loyal.  Above all, God wanted Moses to hear that God is full of love and faithfulness.  Above all, John wants us to hear that Jesus brought with him grace and truth.  What God spoke of in Ex. 34 became human in Jesus Christ.  Jesus became the living embodiment of love and faithfulness, or grace and truth.

For many of us, this is not surprising news.  This is a Christmas gift we’d expect.  Of course Jesus brought grace and truth that first Christmas.  What else would he bring?

But there’s more to this gift that we might imagine.  John wants to make sure we don’t take this gift for granted.  So to the phrase “grace and truth” John adds this phrase: “grace upon grace.”  And from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. John tells us that in bringing grace and truth Jesus was in fact bringing “grace upon grace.”  The gift of the Incarnation was a gift of “grace upon grace.”

But what does that phrase mean?  The way John writes this phrase leaves a little question as to its exact meaning.  John leaves us with two possibilities.

One way of reading “grace upon grace” is to read it as “grace after grace after grace…”  John may be saying that when Jesus came to earth he brought with him an inexhaustible source of grace.  This Jesus will not only extend grace to you once.  He will extend grace to you again.  And again.  And again.  And again.  This Jesus comes giving his gift of grace to you every single day.

Think of the best present you’ve ever received at Christmas.  Now imagine receiving a present like that every day.  My friend Tiffani’s mother made her that life-sized rag doll one Christmas.  What a gift!  But imagine if her mother made her a gift like that every day!

Think of the Christmas gift which so many of you made possible for the Patterson family this year.  Just four weeks ago Jim Harbin stood before you and told you about this family who was living out of their car.  They were homeless and facing serious medical issues.  Without any hesitation, dozens of you and several from the community pooled resources and decided to do something about this.  Your generosity made it possible for that family, just a few days ago, to walk into their new apartment, fully furnished, stocked with food, and a Christmas tree and an abundance of Christmas presents.  What a Christmas that family was given!  It’s a once-in-a-lifetime gift.  It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience of grace.  But imagine if they received a gift like that every single day!

John is saying that’s what life with Jesus is like.  The word “grace” is literally the word “gift.”  The gift which the infant Jesus brought is not just a one-time, once-in-a-lifetime grace—although just that would be more than we deserve and more than we could hope for.  Instead, John says it’s a “grace upon grace.”  It’s a grace that is given not just once, but again and again and again.  Every day you wake up, Jesus is ready to extend that once-in-a-lifetime grace to you again.

One of the greatest letdowns is the day after Christmas.  When I was young, it seemed that Christmas day would never get here.  For days, weeks, and months I anticipated that day.  A day unlike any other day.  A day of opening present after present.  Even a good birthday paled in comparison to a good Christmas day.  And finally Christmas day would come and I’d get to open all those presents.  But then, before I knew it, Christmas day was over.  And I’d have to wait more than 360 days before it would come around again.  That’s not how it is with Jesus.  Every day is Christmas day.  He gives that undeserved and unexpected grace, and keeps on giving it.  Every day it’s available.  He comes full of grace upon grace.

There is a second way of understanding “grace upon grace.”  It not only can mean “grace after grace after grace after grace.”  It can also mean “one grace replaced with another grace.”  John may be drawing a contrast between the grace Moses delivered and the grace Jesus delivered.  Johns puts it this way: 16And from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. 17For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. Our gut reaction is to believe that John is drawing a contrast here between law and grace.  Moses brought law.  Jesus brought grace.  But v. 17 is an explanation of v. 16.  The word “For” which begins v. 17 means that vs. 17 is there to explain what John means in v. 16.  John is using v. 17 to explain what he means by “grace upon grace.”  This isn’t a contrast between unforgiving law and grace.  It’s a contrast between one kind of grace—that expressed through the law Moses delivered, and another kind of grace—that expressed through the coming of Jesus.

The reference to the law given through Moses takes us back to Ex. 34.  The stone tablets are smashed.  They are a visual symbol a spiritual problem.  The people have taken their relationship with God and smashed it to pieces.  Despite this, God tells Moses to cut two more stone tablets and bring them to Sinai and God will write the words on them again.  In other words, God says, “It’s not over.  I’m not giving up.  I’m not going to quit you even though you quit me.”  God gives Moses the Ten Commandments again and enters into covenant relationship with the people.  God pledges his love and loyalty, grace and truth.  This scene of God giving the law to Moses is actually a scene of grace.  God gave them what they did not deserve and refused to give them what they did deserve.  Despite their rebellion, God still entered into covenant relationship with them.  It was an act of extraordinary grace.

But when Jesus became flesh, this scene of grace in Ex. 34 was overshadowed by a new scene of grace.  If we thought God was forgiving in Exodus 34 we’ll be shocked by the level of grace demonstrated through the coming of Jesus.  In Jesus, grace became personal.  In Jesus, grace became more real than it ever was at any other time.  The note of grace was sounded in both Ex. 34 and in John 1.  But its sound in John 1 far surpassed that in Ex. 34.

“Axis of Awesome” is a comedy rock band.  A couple of years ago they demonstrated how a number of popular songs in our culture are based on the same four musical chords.  The band played dozens of hit pop songs.  Some are songs we’d think are great.  Some are songs we’d think are not so great.  But all were built on the same four chords.  They showed how pop music today often shares the same four chords.

John is saying the same thing in our text.  The four chords of God’s grace are found in both Old and New Testaments.  The note of grace is sounded in both Ex. 34 and Jn. 1.  It’s not like Moses brought legalism but Jesus brought grace.  It’s not like God didn’t discover grace until Jn. 1.  God gave grace through Moses.  He also gave grace through Jesus.  We hear the same chord in both chapters.  But the expression of grace found in Jesus was far superior.  If you liked the song of grace sung by Moses, you’ll love the song of grace sung by Jesus.  Both are based on the same chord.  But one song now replaces another.  One song supersedes the other.  The grace brought by Jesus takes things to an entirely different level.

Let’s go back to those Christmas presents.

• Tiffani, a friend from high school, writes that one Christmas when she was 10, her mom made her a life-sized rag doll.  What a gift!  But what if the next Christmas her mom made her a life-sized house to go along with the life-sized doll?  The first gift or grace was amazing.  But the second gift or grace would be even more amazing.
• Morrisa, the wife of a high school friend, told of being 8 and receiving the Golden Rule Encyclopedia—all 20 sets.  What a gift!  But what if the next Christmas her parents invited the authors of that set to the house in person?  The first gift was amazing.  The second was even more amazing.

That’s how it is with Jesus.  The grace shown by God through Moses in Ex. 34 is amazing.  What a gift!  But grace shown by God through Jesus in Jn. 1 is even more amazing!

About six years ago I conducted a retreat for ministers in northern California.  A youth minister named Woody Square invited me.  Woody and his wife Judy served as missionaries in Papua New Guinea for six years.  Several at Highland know them because of our mission work in Papua New Guinea.  Woody is now a youth minister at the San Leandro Church of Christ near San Francisco.  As a youth minister living near San Francisco, Woody does not make a great deal of money.  When I spoke at their retreat, I stayed one night in their home—a very basic but very hospitable home.  I drove in their vehicles.  One, their Toyota Camry, has more than 200,000 miles on it.  Woody and I enjoyed being together at that retreat and we’ve reconnected several times, especially at the Pepperdine Bible Lectures in Malibu, CA.

Earlier this year Woody and Judy went camping at Yosemite National Park.  They ran into two women who were staying in a pop-up camper towed by a SUV.  The women, it turned out, were Oprah Winfrey and her long-time friend Gayle King.  Oprah was there to draw attention to the National Parks, especially since she had been told that few African-Americans visit America’s national parks.  When Oprah saw Woody at Yosemite, she was surprised, because Woody is black.  She was told few blacks visit the parks but here was a black man right next to her.  She and Woody hit it off and Woody and Judy got to pose for pictures with Oprah.  What an amazing gift!  There they were just camping and suddenly they get to meet and have a photo shoot with an international celebrity.  It was a wonderful and unexpected treat.

But little did they know that another gift was coming, and even greater expression of grace.  A week later, an “Oprah” producer called and invited the Squares to fly to Chicago and appear on the Oprah Winfrey show. The producer said the show would take care of everything — flights, chauffeurs, accommodations and all tips.  During the taping, the Squares chatted briefly with Winfrey.  Near the end of the show, Oprah said, “Woody, it seems like camping just brings you so much joy, right?  So, come on up here, guys.”   As the Squares stood next to her, Winfrey said, “So, I would have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed my trip to Yosemite, and everybody should get there at least once in their lifetime, don’t you think?  “But the truth is,” she said, “I have to finish the 25th season, and the next time I go, I’m going to find a butler.   So, I won’t be going anytime soon. So, I want to give you guys the keys to my Coleman camper. And, because you guys have been so great, you need something to pull it with. So, I’m throwing in the Chevy hybrid Tahoe.”

The first gift was wonderful—face-time and photo-time with a celebrity.  The second gift was even greater—a free trip to Chicago, an appearance on national television, a pop-up camper and a new SUV.

John says that’s what the birth of Jesus is about.  It’s about one grace overreaching another.  It’s about opening one gift far greater than the gift you already thought could not be beat.  It’s about the grace greater than any grace ever given.

Roger Barrier writes about leaving for college.[1] His mother had always done his laundry.  Before Roger left, she gave him a canvas duffel bag. “Put your dirty clothes in this every night,” she said. “At the end of the week, wash them at the Laundromat.”  A week later, Roger did just that.  He went to the college Laundromat, threw the duffel bag in stuffed with dirty clothes, threw some detergent in, and started the washing machine.  Moments later, everyone turned when they heard the loud, “thump, thump, thump, thump” emanating from Roger’s washing machine.  Another student approached him.  She said, “I watched you load your washer. I think the clothes would get cleaner if you took them out of the bag first.”  Later, Roger reflected on the incident and wrote this: “One day, when my relationship with God was hurting, I remembered my laundry episode. I realized the way I confessed sins—‘Dear God, please forgive me for all the sins I’ve committed today’—was about as effective in cleansing them as my first attempt at washing clothes. Each sin needs individual attention.”

How true that is—especially at this time of the year.  As the year ends and another begins, some of us are filled with regret.  It’s a time when we don’t just think about sin in general.  We think about specific sins.  We unzip our duffel bag and we ponder long over each and every stained and filthy piece, each and every failure, mistake, rebellion, and selfish act from the year.  And unless we deal with each one, and deal appropriately with it, we’ll carry it with us into the new year.  So here’s what I recommend.  Unzip that bag.  Pull every one of those stinking and filthy flaws out.  And hand every one of them to Jesus.  He’s not just going to offer grace for the small ones—the little mistakes.  He’s going to offer grace for the big ones—for the things you did that you knew you shouldn’t do but you did them any way; and for the things you didn’t do that you knew you should do but you didn’t do them anyway.  It’s a grace that replaces all grace that’s ever been known in the Bible.  It’s a grace you cannot fathom.  It’s a grace he offers not just today.  But every day.  For the rest of your life.  Grace up on grace.  It’s the greatest Christmas gift you’ve ever received.

Our family set a personal record this year for getting our Christmas tree up.  Knowing that we would be in Fort Worth, TX the week of Thanksgiving, we got the tree out and decorated it the weekend before Thanksgiving.  In fact our entire house was festively adorned by the time we left Memphis on November 23.  This year, as with previous years, we used a lot of lights in our decorating.  We put multiple strands on our tree.  Our fireplace mantle is covered with greenery and more lights.  Jordan and Jacob each own a small Christmas tree and each has its own lights.  We placed additional lights around the entryway of the house.   We ran lights outside along the roofline.  And this year I wrapped lights around the trunk and branches of one our crepe myrtles in the front yard.  Lights play a large role in the Altrock Christmas tradition.  Perhaps they do for you as well.

Let’s consider Christmas lights for a moment.  Christmas lights are the kind of lights that draw attention to themselves.  Ponder, for example, the purpose of the lights on a Christmas tree.  How many of you have a tree with lights on it?  Are those lights on that tree so that you can see the tree better?  No.  Their function is not to allow us to see something on the tree which we could not see without the lights.  Their function is to draw attention to themselves.  Think about the purpose of the Christmas lights on the outside of a home.  How many of you have Christmas lights on the outside of your home?  Are those lights there so that you can see your house better?  No.  Their function is not to allow us to see something about the house which we couldn’t see without the lights.  Their function is to draw attention to themselves.  When I pull up to my house at night, I cannot see the house any better than I could without the Christmas lights.  I barely notice the house at all.  What I notice are the colored lights.  Christmas lights are the kind of lights that draw attention to themselves.

Consider the Christmas lights at the Shelby Farms Starry Nights exhibit.  Starry Nights features 1.5 million Christmas lights.  Many of these lights are not fixed to anything like a tree or a house.  Instead, many of the light strings are shaped into Christmas figures and affixed to metal or other backgrounds.  They don’t illuminate anything.  They don’t help you see something else any better.  Their purpose is to draw attention to themselves.  Visitors to Starry Nights “ooh” and “ahh” at the train made of lights, bright balls of lights, and other giant-sized Christmas shapes.  Christmas lights are the kind of lights that draw attention to themselves.

It’s easy to read our text this morning with a similar idea in mind: And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth…No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known. (John 1:14,18 ESV)  This is John’s Christmas account.  John is not going to tell us the historic details of Jesus’ birth.  He’s not going to focus on a manger, or Mary and Joseph, or angels and shepherds.  He’s going to tell us the meaning of the birth.  John tells us that the Word, the self-expression of God, God himself, became flesh.  God took on humanity.  And if we were there and could have taken out our cell phone or our digital camera and snapped a couple of pictures at the birth of Jesus, John says this is what we would see: “glory.”  And we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father… “Glory” is a big word in the Bible.  There’s a lot of meanings stuffed into that word “glory.”  Here in John 1, one of the meanings of glory is “light.”[1] Earlier in John 1 John describes Jesus in this way: In him was life, and the life was the light of men.  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it (Jn. 1:4 ESV).  The word “glory” carries the idea of light.  If we describe an object as “glorious” we mean that it shines, it glows, and that it has brilliance to it.

The question is what kind of light is represented by Jesus’ glory?  When John says that Jesus’ glory is the “glory as of the only Son from the Father” he’s saying that Jesus’ glory is the kind of brilliance that could only come from the only Son of the only God.  Perhaps we could think of it this way: God is the ultimate light.  Purer than any other source.  Brighter than any other beam.  And Jesus, John says, is no second-rate light.  He’s not a 40 watt bulb compared to God’s 100 watt bulb.  Jesus, John says, is the only Son from the Father.  His light is God’s light.  Purer than any other source.  Brighter than any other beam.  Jesus comes with the very glory or brilliance of God himself.

Glory as light is often how artists portray the birth scene.  This picture is a typical artistic rendering of the birth of Jesus.  The baby Jesus is so glorious that he fills the little manger with light.  The glow pours out from the manger over the surrounding wilderness.

And given all of this language about glory and light, and our traditional images of the birth of Jesus, it’s easy to assume that glory of Jesus is the kind of light which draws attention to itself.  It’s there for its own sake.  Its purpose is to grab our attention and force us to focus on it.  God took part of himself, filled it with his light, sent it to earth, and then plugged it in.  And it shined gloriously and brilliantly!

But John’s actually saying something different here.  As we’ve seen, John’s Christmas account is based on another account.  If John were writing today, he might preface John 1:14-18 with this: The following is a true account based on the book of Exodus. John cannot write about the birth of Jesus without using language from the book of Exodus. We saw this last Sunday with John’s use of the word “tabernacle.”  We see this in our text this morning in John’s use of “glory.”  John writes verses 14 and 18 with Exodus 33-34 in mind.[2]

Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann calls this part of Exodus “the most thorough and sustained struggle with the problem of presence in the entire Old Testament.”[3] This part of Exodus is about the human struggle to know God and our wondering if God is really present with us.  The reason this struggle pops up here in Exodus is due to the fact that while Moses has been on the mountain with God, the people below have given up on Moses and on God.  They’ve fashioned an idol in the form of a golden calf.  Now Moses and God confront the people.  And the people are afraid.  Have they ruined everything for all time?  Will God forgive?  Will God still be present with them?

Moses himself is particularly troubled.  So he makes this request: 18Moses said, “Please show me your glory.” 19And he said, “I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name ‘The LORD.’ And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. 20But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live.” 21And the LORD said, “Behold, there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock, 22and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by. 23Then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back, but my face shall not be seen.” (Ex. 33:18-22 ESV).  Moses asks to see God’s glory: Please show me your glory. Moses wants to have more than just a promise from God to hear with his ears.  He wants a presence he can see with his eyes.  He doesn’t just want a verbal assurance that God will still be with them in spite of their flaws.  He wants living proof that God will be with them.  He wants to see God in all his glory.  He wants God turn the spotlight on himself and to allow Moses to clearly see that God is with them.  And God says “Yes”—with a caveat.  Moses cannot see God’s face.  Moses cannot see God in all his glory.  That would be too much for Moses.  God will allow Moses only to see his backside.  That’s all the glory Moses can handle.

And John borrows that language in his Christmas account.[4] And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth…No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known. (John 1:14,18 ESV)  The glory of Jesus which John speaks of is not the kind of light which draws attention to itself.  It is the kind of light which draws attention to someone else.  Jesus’ glory is a light which draws attention to someone else—the Father.  When John writes that Jesus “is at the Father’s side,” he literally writes that Jesus “is at the Father’s bosom.”  The word “bosom” reminds me of a baby sleeping on a mother’s chest.  So close.  So intimate.  It reminds me of a Father hugging a much-loved son to his chest.  So close.  So intimate.  John’s saying that Jesus is not just the only Son of the Father.  He is saying that Jesus has spent eternity at that Father’s bosom.  He knows the Father intimately.  Therefore, he’s the perfect candidate to shed light on the Father.  Jesus’ glory is the kind of light that draws attention to the Father—a Father Jesus is very intimate with.

2T.5

We know Jesus’ light is that kind of light because John goes on to say that only Jesus “has made God known.”  Literally John writes that Jesus “has exegeted God.”  Dr. Allen Black, a Highland member and a professor at Harding Graduate School, makes his living exegeting Scripture.  He takes a passage from the Bible and is able to explain everything about it: what the individual words mean, who the author was, why the author wrote them, and what historical or cultural references in the text mean.  In the same way, John is saying, Jesus exegetes God.  Jesus is able to explain everything about God.  New Testament scholar D. A. Carson writes that this word “exegete” or “make known” also means “to tell a narrative” or “to narrate.”[5] Jesus tells the true story about God.  Jesus is able to narrate everything you always wondered about God.  He sheds light on God.

During Thanksgiving, my family and I visited my brother and his family in Fort Worth.  We spent part of a day at an enormous Cabela’s store filled with outdoor equipment.  Jacob found a large floodlight.  It was advertised as having ten million candle power.  You point this at an object and there’s hardly anything about that object you will not see.  It’s powerful beam will illuminate everything about that object.  John’s saying that Jesus is that kind of light.  He’s not the kind of light that draws attention to itself.  Instead, he’s the kind of light that draws attention to something else.  Jesus, John writes, did not come to earth to point a light on himself.  He came to point a light at God.  And he shined so brightly that there was nothing about God that couldn’t be seen.

My parents recently visited Budapest.  In the evening they took some photos of the parliament building and a nearby bridge.  Notice what the lights in this photo are doing.  The lights are not drawing attention to themselves.  The lights are drawing attention to something else.  They are revealing the beauty and goodness of the bridge and the parliament building.  Jesus, John writes, revealed the beauty and the goodness of God.  He illuminated God so that what caught our eye was the glorious goodness of God.  Jesus pointed his light at God and there was nothing about God you couldn’t see.

A couple of Highland friends wrote me recently about their favorite Christmas gifts.  Pat Wilemon, long-time Highland member told me it was on a Christmas that her and her husband Bud first met.  Ken Fowler, another long-time Highland member, told me that one Christmas Eve he told his sister that he was just fine with being a bachelor.  That Christmas morning he met Julie.  She is now his wife.  For Pat and Bud and for Ken and Julie Christmas was that moment when someone very important first became known to them.  The most important human in their life first became known to them at Christmas.  John is saying something similar.  That first Christmas was the moment when God really became known to the human race.  That baby Jesus would so illuminate and exegete and narrate God, that there’s nothing about God we would not know.

About four weeks ago I participated in a pre-release class at the Mark Luttrell Correctional Center for Women.  Five of us were there to encourage these women, all of them looking forward to being released from prison.  We urged them to consider participating in HopeWorks and other programs like this when they got out.  Allen Wagner, of Wagner Construction, shared some of his own story with the women.  Allen talked about how, in college, he started smoking marijuana, and then started snorting cocaine, and how he got involved in all kinds of relationships he shouldn’t have.  Then one day he realized how miserable he was.  Eventually, Allen turned his back on all of that darkness and embraced God.  While Allen was speaking, one of the women convicts named April left the room.  She was weeping.  After a few moments, she returned.  But she was solemn through the rest of our presentation.  Afterwards, the class facilitator led April over to me and Ron Wade.  April, it turns out, was an atheist.  When she came to prison, she did not believe in God.  But she had been attending this pre-release class in which the coordinator spoke often about God.  Many of the other women in the class were also very devout.  Our entire presentation that morning had been centered upon God.  And something was happening inside of April.  The coordinator told us April was having feelings she had never had before.  “How can I feel this way about God when I don’t even believe in God?” she asked.  We huddled and prayed together with April.  It was as if somehow a light in her heart had been turned on.  It was as if she was just beginning to see.  There is a God.  That God is a good.  That God loves her.  And he wants her to know him.

That’s why God sent Jesus.  That’s what the birth of Jesus was all about.  He came to turn on a light in our hearts.  He came to help us finally see.  There is a God.  That God is good.  That God loves us.  And he wants us to know him.  Jesus did not come just to die for our failures.  He also came to show us our Father.  He came as the light, full of glory, revealing all the goodness and greatness of God.

Barry Mitchell, one of our elders, recently shared with me the story of a friend.  His friend was very involved in a congregation.  He taught Bible classes.  He led worship.  He was as active a Christian as there ever was.  But then someone very close to this friend died.  And the death rocked this man’s faith to its core.  The death disillusioned this man.  And he told Barry, “I no longer believe in God.”  Barry worked with the man.  He met often with him.  And over time, the man finally confessed, “I do believe in God.  I just don’t like the God I believe in.”  That’s something that can happen, even during holiday seasons.  Darkness creeps into our hearts.  We get discouraged.  We get disillusioned.  And we get upset with God.  We still believe in him.  But we don’t really like the God we believe in.  If that describes you this morning, I’d encourage you to see God once again through the light of Jesus.  Let Jesus show you the God he believes in.  Let Jesus paint for you the God he sees.  Because when you really begin to view God through the light of Jesus, he once again becomes a God you love.  He once again becomes a God who loves you.

Maybe that’s you this morning.  You are discouraged.  You are disillusioned.  Let me urge you to come and let us pray with you today.  Let us pray that you’d believe once more in the God Jesus believes in.  Let us pray with you that you’d see the God Jesus sees.

Maybe you’re more like April this morning, that convict who couldn’t help believing.  Maybe for you the light’s finally coming on.  You’re beginning to understand that there is a God and he loves you and Jesus shows you who this God really is.  If you’re ready for the next step, let us baptize you this morning.  Let us help you enter into relationship with this God whom Jesus shows.

[2] D. A. Carson, The God Who is There: Finding Your Place in God’s Story (Baker Books), Kindle Edition, Location 1671-1680; D. A. Carson The Gospel According to John (IVP, 1991), 134.

[3] Brueggemann, 937.

[4] Carson, The God Who is There, Location 1655-1663.

[5] Carson, John, 135.

1) We do not know how many persons were involved.  We are simply told that more than one showed up– Magoi is the plural of the Greek word Magos, from which we get the English word magic/magician.  A Magos was an oriental priest of sorts, learned in various sorts of esoteric arts, including astrology (studying the sky for clues about the present or future), the interpretation of dreams, the reading of animal’s entrails, necromancy, etc.

And one more thing—  there is probably no ‘inn’ in Luke 2.7– the correct translation of the Greek word there is ‘guest room’ not inn.  Its the very word Luke uses elewhere to speak of the room where the last supper transpired. He uses a very different word for Inn, in the parable of the Good Samaritan. So enough with the sermons entitled “No Room in the Inn” all about the world making no room for Jesus.  Jesus was likely born in a relative’s home in the back of the house where they kept the prized beast of burden, hence the manger or corn crib.  And it is likely they continued to stay with their relatives there when the Magi showed up.    

Surprised?  Are you disappointed or relieved?  What’s your reaction to all this?

Advent is a season of waiting, expecting, and hoping.  Beginning four Sundays prior to Christmas and ending on Christmas Eve, Advent helps us to prepare for the coming, or “advent” of the Christ child at Christmas.  (The word “advent” comes from the Latin word that means “coming.”) 

For hundreds of years Christians have used an Advent wreath to inspire their hopes for the coming of Christ.  By lighting candles and reading Bible verses, we are reminded about the meaning of Christ’s birth and become more excited about his coming in the past, in the future, and in our own lives.

There is no set meaning for the candles of the Advent wreath (except for the middle candle, which always signifies the birth of Jesus the Christ).  Some wreaths use all white candles; others use three purple candles, one pink candle, and one white candle in the middle.  The purple candles remind us of how serious and solemn God’s people have been in waiting for the Messiah.  The pink signifies the joy of our waiting.  The white is triumphant and celebrative because Christ is born.

Do you celebrate Advent personally?  Does the church you attend? 

How might you go about celebrating it this year?  Again, Scot McKnight provides these suggestions:

 Advent is a word that means “coming” or “visit”.  In the Christian season of Advent we prepare for the “advent” of Christ at Christmas.  Our preparation includes many things: 

• We remember Israel’s hope for the coming of God’s Messiah to save, to forgive, and to restore them.

• We remember our hope for the second coming of Jesus.

• We remember our need for a Savior to save us from our sins.

• We prepare to welcome Christ at Christmas into our world . . . and into our hearts.

By lighting one candle each week of Advent, we help ourselves to get ready for the birth of Jesus.  The candles have different meanings, each based upon the Bible.  These meanings help us to understand how special the birth of Jesus is for us.

Today we focus on the coming of Christ as our Shepherd.

Prayer for God’s Help

[This prayer can be read, or simply used as a model.]

Dear God, thank you for this season of Advent that helps us to prepare for the coming of Christ at Christmas.  As we read the Bible and light a candle, may excitement for Christ’s coming burn in our hearts.  Amen.

Scripture Readings

[Parents, you may wish to abbreviate or eliminate certain readings depending on the age(s) of your child(ren).  You may also want to read these selections out of a Children's Bible.]

Psalm 80:1-7

In this Psalm we join the people of Israel as they invite God their Shepherd to save and to restore them.

 

Isaiah 40:1-11

This passage looks ahead to the coming of the Lord, who will care for his people like a shepherd.

Revelation 7:9-17

Like God’s people before the coming of Christ, we also look ahead to the time when Christ, who is both the Lamb and our Shepherd, will finish his work and “God will wipe away every tear” from our eyes.

Lighting of the Candle

[As someone lights the first purple candle, the following should be read or paraphrased. If you're doing this online, in order to "light" the next Advent candle, click on the wick of the purple candles until you "light" the right one.]

We light this candle because, like God’s people centuries ago, we also look forward with hope to the coming of the Shepherd.  The purple color of the candle reminds us of the seriousness of our hope.

Prayer of Hope

[To be read or paraphrased.]

Dear God, as we light this candle, we hope for your coming as our Good Shepherd.  Please gather us in your arms, feed us with spiritual food, wipe away every tear from our eyes, and “let your face shine, that we may be saved”.  Come, our Shepherd!  Amen.

Closing Song

It may surprise you, therefore, to find that same metaphor in a text traditionally associated with Christmas.  Is. 9:2-7 begins with darkness: The people walking in darkness and those living in the land of deep darkness (Is. 9:2 TNIV).  As Isaiah, the author of this book, looks at his readers, he sees they are in darkness.  God seems absent.

The darkness Isaiah’s describing came from the missteps of their king, King Ahaz.  Israel was facing threats from other nations.  So King Ahaz turned to the Assyrians for help.  Assyria, in turn, overran the land.[1]  In the words of vs. 4 Assyria was now the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor.  It might be like the United States asking Russia for help and Russia taking over the United States.  Assyria was oppressing Israel.  That oppression felt like an imprisoning darkness.

Many years later, Matthew used these same words to describe the people of his day.  Matthew describes them as living in darkness (Matt. 4:16 TNIV).  He is quoting Is. 9.  The darkness Matthew’s describing came from the Roman government who now ruled Israel.  Specifically, Matthew precedes this description of darkness with the news of John the Baptist being imprisoned by the Roman-appointed king, King Herod.  It was a dark time. 

Can you relate to that image of darkness?  Sometimes we experience imprisoning darkness, don’t we?  A few months ago a woman emailed me.  She described how the death of someone very close to her months earlier was still a heavy weight on her heart.  She felt like she was living in a dark storm.  And she was emailing because she wanted to hear some storm-dispelling good news.  Did I have any storm-dispelling words?  Sometimes we walk in an imprisoning darkness.

Isaiah 9:1-7 begins with darkness.  But listen to the way it ends: The zeal of the LORD Almighty (Is. 9:7).  This word “zeal” is a cousin to the word “jealous”—not the kind of petty jealousy we often think of but a jealousy that involves a consuming concern for someone and a desire that nothing would hurt them.[2]  Despite times when God seems absent, Isaiah says there is something always present—the zeal of the LORD Almighty; a God with a consuming concern for people walking in darkness.  In Is. 9:2 Isaiah likens this zealous God to a light: The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.  Even in the darkness, God’s zealous love is a light. Even when God seems absent, his zealous love is present.

Isaiah wants the people to know: even in the darkness created by King Ahaz and the rough Assyrians there is a light—a LORD Almighty who is moved by a zealous love for them.   

Similarly, Matthew wants his readers to know: even in the darkness created by King Herod and the rough Romans there is a light—a LORD Almighty who is moved by a zealous love for them. 

I’ve been emailing a friend of mine who has been living in darkness—darkness of his own doing.  He had an affair and is now trying to stitch life back together.  When we writes he is often in a valley.  He is in despair.  But every time he writes, he also mentions ways in which God still seems present.  He writes about how God is still there, still loving.  Even in the darkness God is present.  God’s zealous love is a light.

In Isaiah’s vision, however, this enlightening love takes a specific form.  Isaiah promises that God’s zealous love will now come in the form of a person who will end the darkness: 4 For as in the day of Midian’s defeat, you have shattered the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor. 5 Every warrior’s boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire. 6 For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. 7 Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever.  The zeal of the LORD Almighty will accomplish this. (Is. 9:4-7 TNIV) 

First, Isaiah reminds us of another time when God’s zealous love appeared in the form of a person who ended the darkness.  He recalls the day of Midian’s defeat (vs. 4).  The Midianites were such tyrants that most of the Jews hid in caves.  They literally lived in darkness.  But God sent a man named Gideon to battle the Midianites.  Gideon was an unlikely choice.  He was from the weakest clan in Israel and he was the lowliest member of his family.  But God used Gideon, in the middle of the night, with a handful of torches, to completely defeat the Midianites.  Through this unlikely person God brought about an unimaginable victory. 

In the same way, Isaiah promises, God will once again come in the form of a person who will end this present darkness.  Like Gideon, this new person will achieve an unimaginable victory—the yoke of the oppressors will be shattered.  And like Gideon, this person will be an unlikely choice: this person will be a child.  According to vs. 6 – to us a child is born. 

Isaiah may have meant this specifically as a reference to the arrival of a new king like Hezekiah whose reign would be marked with far greater peace and godliness than the reign of Ahaz.[3]  But Isaiah clearly means much more.  God’s zealous love is going to appear in the form of a child.  And this child will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace.  Where human wisdom is often limited, his will not be – he will be the Wonderful Counselor who knows the way out of the darkness.  He will be the Mighty God—the one in whom dwells the same power that made the universe.  He will be the Everlasting Father.  Unlike kings who claim to be a “father” to the people but then abused them or were unable to protect or provide for them, this child will be a true father.  And, he will be the Prince of Peace.  He will bring and end to the powers that create the darkness and inaugurate a reign of peace.  That light which Isaiah sees is not merely a human king.  That light he sees is Jesus himself.  Taken at their ultimate meaning, there is no way these words could apply to a mere human.  That seems to be why Matthew clung to this text as he wrote about Jesus.  These words could only be fulfilled in a human who was God himself.  These words could only be fulfilled in Jesus.  Isaiah is dreaming of the time when God would come in the form of a child.  He is dreaming of Jesus.   Through a very unlikely person—a vulnerable child, God would now bring an unimaginable end to darkness.

A few weeks ago Kendra and I took our trip to New York City—a trip generously given to us by you (Highland church).  One of the things we enjoyed was riding the New York subways.  It was quite an adventure.  We also enjoyed seeing, at most of the subway stations, individuals and groups playing instruments to earn money.  Some of them were quite good.  Large crowds would gather around the best and drop coins and bills into the musicians’ hats and instrument cases.  When we returned from New York I read a story about one musician in a similar setting.  In 2007 The Washington Post conducted an experiment which involved a man named Joshua playing a violin in a Metro station in Washington, D. C.[4]  Positioning himself against a wall near a trashcan, Bell started playing a violin.  He was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt.  He placed the open violin case at his feet, hoping to encourage travelers to drop in some money.  He played for 45 minutes.  Over 1,000 people passed by.  He earned a total of $32.  Three days earlier Joshua had played that same violin at another location.  He had played to a sell-out crowd at the Boston Symphony Hall.  The average seat cost $100.  It turns out that Joshua was a world-renowned violinist playing a $3 million Stradivarius violin.  But when people looked at him in that Metro station, that’s not what they saw.

What do you see when you look at that child—lying there that manger, his mother so young she’d still be a student in our middle schools or high schools, stories circulating that he was conceived illegitimately, rumors told that his father isn’t going through with the marriage?  What do you see when you look at that child who is born?  Seems like nothing better than a poor, unemployed man in a Metro station trying to earn a few bucks on a violin.  But could it be that there is more than what we see?  Could it be that the violinist in the Metro station is one of the world’s renowned musicians?  Could it be that this baby in the manger really is the Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, and the Prince of Peace?  Could it be that this child born to us can overcome everything in our lives that brings darkness?

Brian Wren writes this poem:[5]

And can this newborn mystery; an infant learning how to feed; defeat the grim and chilling powers; of domination, death, and sin? 

The One whose tiny hands and eyes; suspend our breath and tug our heart; awakens some to joyful praise; while others whisper “Is it true?” 

For sin infects, deceives, ensnares; and domination towers and gleams; and death, dispatched to foreign lands; will turn again, and find us all. 

This child, full-grown, shall shine with love; for outcast, righteous, rich and poor; withstand the powers with healing words; and then be crushed, betrayed, destroyed. 

And some will feel the Spirit’s power; and some will doubt, or cling to faith; and some will hope but never know; and some will joyfully believe. 

And so, with doubt, or hope reborn; or anxious certainty, or peace; we worship, trust, and rise to serve; an infant learning how to feed. 

That is Isaiah’s dream.  This child born to us, this infant learning how to feed, that tiny one in the manger, will indeed defeat the grim and chilling powers of domination, death and sin.  That newborn mystery will bring light into the darkness.  He will truly be the Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, and the Prince of Peace.  

During the 2008 presidential race, John McCain was asked by Time magazine to share his faith journey.  In the article McCain shared something which happened in Vietnam:[6] When I was a prisoner of war in Vietnam…my captors would tie my arms behind my back and then loop the rope around my neck and ankles so that my head was pulled down between my knees. I was often left like that throughout the night. One night a guard came into my cell. He put his finger to his lips signaling for me to be quiet and then loosened my ropes to relieve my pain. The next morning, when his shift ended, the guard returned and retightened the ropes, never saying a word to me.  A month or so later, on Christmas Day, I was standing in the dirt courtyard when I saw that same guard approach me. He walked up and stood silently next to me, not looking or smiling at me. Then he used his sandaled foot to draw a cross in the dirt. We stood wordlessly looking at the cross, remembering the true light of Christmas, even in the darkness of a Vietnamese prison camp.  That is the ironic message of Christmas, the ironic Christmas dream of Isaiah—God, in the form of a child, brings light into our darkness.

Charles Colson and other Christian leaders once met with the President of Ecuador.  The President told them the story of his imprisonment years earlier.  He had been involved in the struggle for democracy in Ecuador. The military cracked down, and he was arrested. Without a trial, they threw him into a prison with no lights and no windows. For three days he endured darkness.  When the situation seemed unbearable, the steel door opened, and someone crept into the cell.  The President heard the person working on something on the opposite wall. Then he heard the figure creep out and close the door.  Minutes later the room suddenly blazed with light. Someone, perhaps at risk of his own life if caught, had connected electricity to the light fixture in the cell.  Someone had risked his life to bring light to the President.  “From that moment,” the President explained, “my imprisonment had meaning because at least I could see.”  That is the message of Christmas—God, in the form of a child, risks his life, to bring light into darkness.

And because God appears in the form of this child to bring light into our darkness, because Jesus comes as Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace, the most appropriate response is joy.  Here is how Isaiah puts it: they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest, as soldiers rejoice when dividing the plunder. (Is. 9:3 TNIV).  The most appropriate response to this child born to us is joy.  Isaiah searches for a way to describe this joy.  He uses two circumstances common in that day.  First, the joy of harvest.  The threat of drought, the threat of flood, the threat of insects have been overcome.  The long wait is over.  The harvest is here.  It was a time of great joy.  Second, the joy of military conquest.  A threatening enemy has been overcome.  The fear of capture, the fear of enslavement, the fear of injury has been conquered.  The enemy is gone.  It was a time of great joy.  Isaiah’s point is simply that the most appropriate response to the message about a child through whom God will bring light is great and unparalleled joy.

A few weeks ago, as part of our trip to New York City, Kendra and I visited Liberty Island.  We listened to historians talk about the colossal Statue of Liberty as we walked around it.  They told us that the French conceived of the statue as a gift to the United States to celebrate the freedom in our country, especially the end of slavery in our country.  The statue’s torch was patterned after the idea of enlightenment.  In fact, the formal title of the statue is the “Statue of Liberty Enlightening the World.”  To the world’s people who were enslaved or yoked, this statue would shine a light, a light of freedom.  We also listened to recordings of people who travelled to America to find this freedom.  One man said, “I’ll never forget how I felt when I looked up and saw that statue…”  And he began to weep with joy.  One woman said, “When we saw the statue, we all started hugging.  People we didn’t even know on the boat we hugged and danced with.”  There was no greater joy than for those once in darkness to see this light of liberty shining in the distance.  For Isaiah, the child Jesus is that light.  From this child shines a light that pierces the greatest darkness.  And just as those immigrants on the ships to New York danced with joy upon seeing the statue’s light, so Isaiah invites us now to dance with joy as we see this child’s light.