Sermon Text: Luke 2:1-20
Date: December 24, 2024
Event: Christmas Eve, Year C
Luke 2:1-20 (EHV)
In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2This was the first census taken while Quirinius was governing Syria. 3And everyone went to register, each to his own town. 4And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the town of Nazareth, into Judea, to the town of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was from the house and family line of David. 5He went to be registered with Mary, his wife, who was pledged to him in marriage and was expecting a child.
6And so it was that while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. 7And she gave birth to her firstborn son, wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
8There were in the same country shepherds staying out in the fields, keeping watch over their flock at night. 9An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified! 10But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. For behold, I bring you good news of great joy, which will be for all people: 11Today in the town of David, a Savior was born for you. He is Christ the Lord. 12And this will be a sign for you: You will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.” 13Suddenly, there was with the angel a multitude from the heavenly army, praising God and saying, 14“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward mankind.”
15When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Now let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. 17When they had seen him, they told others the message they had been told about this child. 18And all who heard it were amazed by what the shepherds said to them. 19But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart. 20And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
“I Bring You Good News of Great Joy!”
“Can we talk?” What does that question do to you? I’ll tell you what it does for me: my heart leaps into my throat and other questions race through my mind, “What’s wrong? What did I do? What happened? Where and how big is the hurt, and for who?” Now, those questions might just point to my own wrestling with anxiety because could it not just as easily be good news as bad? Couldn’t someone want to spend a few minutes sharing something positive rather than negative, encouragement rather than criticism?
But maybe that is a familiar feeling for you, too. Knowing that there is news, something that warrants a conversation, but not knowing if it’s something you’d classify as good or bad can leave you feeling very uneasy.
The events around Jesus’ birth have several moments when someone is startled by a message (or even the messenger). We were reminded on Sunday of two occasions when the angel Gabriel appeared to Zechariah, John the Baptist’s father, to tell him that he and his wife would have a son in their old age. Likewise, Gabriel appeared to Mary to let her know she would be the mother of the Savior. There, Luke records Mary’s internal response for us: The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women.” But she was greatly troubled by the statement and was wondering what kind of greeting this could be (Luke 1:28-29). Is this good news or bad news? How do you respond when an angel says, “Can we talk?”
The beginning of our Gospel for this evening tells us the basics of Jesus’ birth. For as popular and romanticized as this account is, even outside of the church in popular culture, in the Bible, it’s really, really short. Just eight verses, the first three of which are really just establishing when in history this took place. Many of the details we have filled in from our imagination or works of art surrounding these events just aren’t there. Did you notice Mary did not have a donkey to ride to Bethlehem? It’s not unreasonable to think that she might have ridden one—being nearly ready to give birth and having to make a trek of more than 80 miles on foot would probably call for some assistance—but it’s not in the biblical account.
In part, that comes because you have to round it out a bit. Just five verses is not a lot of details. However, when it comes to the construction of the Gospel narrative, it makes some sense because the specifics around Jesus’ birth are just not that important. I mean, they’re not unimportant. They show the lowliness and humility that would define Jesus’ entire earthly life and ministry. They show the quiet faith of both Mary and Joseph, trusting that everything would be ok despite a really stressful situation because God had promised that it would be ok. They make clear that distinguishing mark that the Messiah would be born in the Judean town of Bethlehem, where King David was born. But when it comes to the work Jesus had to do, the details of his birth are, in some ways, a footnote.
But when it comes to verse 8, then things get interesting, because there are some sleepy shepherds out in the middle of fields near Bethlehem keeping watch over undoubtedly sleepy sheep. And then someone says, “Can we talk?” There were in the same country shepherds staying out in the fields, keeping watch over their flock at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified! In the middle of the night, an angel from God appears to these half-asleep animal caretakers. Not only that, but even the glory of the Lord, the pillar of cloud and fire that led the Israelites through the wilderness almost 1500 years before, not only appears near them but actually surrounds them. I think you can take Mary’s troubledness and curiosity at what kind of greeting Gabriel had for her and dial it up 1000x for the shepherds. “What is going on? What is going to happen to us? What is this message being announced?”
The angel quickly puts their fears—their terror!—to rest, “Do not be afraid. For behold, I bring you good news of great joy.” Whew! Not only is this not bad news, but this is good news that produces great joy! And what is the good news the angel has to share with the shepherds? “I bring you good news of great joy, which will be for all people: Today in the town of David, a Savior was born for you. He is Christ the Lord.” Again, terse and to the point, but one that points ahead—a Savior (the Savior) was born; he’s arrived! The Christ—the Messiah—is here!
And yes, more details are given, but again, that is not the point. The lowly state of the Messiah—a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger—is given only as a means of identification, “a sign to you.” That a child is sleeping in a feeding trough is not the message, not the good news of great joy. But what he will be and what he will do is the focus of the angel’s brief message.
According to the angel, this good news of great joy applies to all people. The main joy is that a Savior was born for you. And this is the part of tonight that might not feel very “Christmas-y,” because the good news the angel shares and that we celebrate presupposes some really bad, even hopeless, news.
Perhaps we think of the joy of a severe disease going away, something that threatened life or at least the way of life. What rejoicing there is in that good news! The bad thing is gone! But in order for there to be joy in that good news, the bad news had to be there first. The concerns over future health and living arrangements. Sleepless nights not knowing what would come or how this would turn out. Would the medicine be effective? Were the doctors right? What was tomorrow going to look like? Feel like?
The same is true for Christmas. Good news of great joy to be sure! But that good news stands against the backdrop of the hopeless news we lived with. A Savior was born! Praise the Lord! But for a savior to be worth something, we needed something to be saved from.
The reality is that, on our own, we do need to be saved. We need to be rescued because we’ve dug ourselves such a deep, dark pit with our sin and rebellion against God that we can never get out. The whole reason that Jesus was born, the reason that God took on our human nature in this miraculous birth of a virgin, was so that he could rescue us. And his work would be a true rescue. To go back to the picture of the pit, his mission wasn’t to put a ladder down so we could climb out ourselves. No, his rescue is so complete that it meant climbing down that pit himself, putting us on his shoulders, and carrying us out. The Messiah’s mission was a complete rescue with no help or contribution on our part whatsoever.
So this child in Bethlehem’s manger would live a flawless life in our place during the 30-some years of his life, and then he would take up our sins on himself when he died on the cross. He was and is our substitute, putting himself in the place of the punishment of hell that we deserved. Death and hell are not really themes that we might want to zero in on a serene Christmas Eve, but this part of Jesus’ work is the only reason that the message of the angel to the shepherds could be good news of great joy.
This evening, we rejoice, we celebrate, not just over the birth of a child in wild, surprising, and miraculous circumstances. We rejoice and celebrate because the one who would rescue us from eternal punishment in hell is here. The one who would give our life for ours and then rise from the dead, triumphantly proclaiming his obliteration of sin, death, and hell—that long-promised Savior—has arrived!
Do you want to see him? On this silent night, follow the angel’s directions: You will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger. … He is Christ the Lord. My sisters and brothers, your Savior is here! Thanks be to God! Amen.
