Shepherd of the Springs
Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod

This evening as we gather to behold the new-born Christ child in that stable in Bethlehem, let me invite you to reflect on a series of observations based on our lessons this evening, and then some. We have a set of contrasts that stare us in the face as we ponder the miracle of Christmas. The first is this: The great Light and the Life that comes from this Light of the World, comes to us again this year . . . in the dead of a cold winter's night.

While we do not know the date or even the month of the year in which our Lord's birth took place, how fitting it is that we observe it here in late December at the onset of winter. Winter reminds us that we live in a fallen world as frail creatures who are not in charge of our own existence. Gathering together on a winter's night as this reminds us that we are not in control of the many and great forces that determine so much of our human condition. While it is true that we reap what we sow, we sense especially during the winter time how it is that we must wait on the Lord of life for our very survival: for our food and drink - and of course warm clothing and adequate shelter from a winter's cold night, even a snowy one as we may have later this evening. Yet, Christmas is the season of great depression for many as the supposed merriment of the season is contrasted with what so many see as the winter condition of their lives, lived without any sense of hope. The 12 days from Christmas to Epiphany bring annually the highest suicide rates of the year. Only the hope that the Christ child brings turns the silent night of winter into a holy night. God is born in Bethlehem. He has come to us in the winter of our human condition - the winter of our malcontent - not simply to maintain and preserve us and our world in its fallen state, but that He has come to bring us the Son, and life and light through him.

And our second reflection is that when John informs us that when we spectate the event of Christmas, we behold the glory of the Word who became flesh and dwelt among us. (John 1:14) Well, when you reflect on this, this is something that is really hard to see, Indeed! Only by the eyes of faith! The lofty words of the prophet Isaiah, put to majestic melody and harmony by Handel - King of kings and Lord of lords - and the full chorus singing about that day - when the Glory of the Lord shall be revealed. Is it not hard to correlate these words with those recorded and heard from the opening chapters of Matthew and Luke? Are not these mundane Christmas stories something quite different to our expectations when it comes to the details of the Word becoming flesh as the King of kings and Lord of Lords and the Mighty God? Is not the event that they record being described as a humble event a rather an understatement? Peace on earth is certainly mercy mild . . . very mild. Many of our contemporary Christmas cards cover up and disguise the rude and humble details of these events - the golden tin-foil images of the nativity in contemporary design and shape seem more like glitzy advertisements for some new upscale sports car. The words of St. Paul in Philippians 2 gets the right description on the details: He humbled himself, he made himself nothing (Phil. 2:6). The Christmas story startles us with a picture of the Lord of Lords and the King of Kings becoming an infant baby in diapers placed into a feed trough by a couple of nervous teenagers . . . the eternal Word of God, there He is! . . . unable to eat solid food, or control his bladder. Moreover, if you think about it, the event of his arrival into world was probably witnessed by more animals than people. Oh, indeed in the little town of Bethlehem . . . How silently how silently the wondrous gift was given. This is indeed a telling of the story fit for children's Christmas programs of every age. Nothing frightening or alarming here.

But for our third reflection, there is another telling of the story, something that today we might call the directors cut. For this version came out later and was recorded in the 12^th Chapter of the Book of Revelation. This version of the story has never made the Christmas card collections, but it tells the story of Christmas from the eternal perspectives of Heaven and Hell. . . A woman clothed with the sun and wearing a crown of twelve stars cries out in pain as she is about to give birth. Suddenly an enormous red dragon enters the picture, his tail sweeping a third of the stars out of the sky and flinging them to earth. He crouches hungrily before the woman to devour her child the moment it is born. At the last second the infant is snatched away to safety, the woman flees into the desert, and all out cosmic war begins. Revelation is a strange book that often reveals together the events of Heaven, Hell, and earth. On earth a baby is born, a jealous mad king gets wind of it and a chase ensued. It was all about who was to be King of the Jews. Someone is going to get crucified. In Heaven, the great invasion has begun, a daring raid by the ruler of the forces of good into the universe's seat of evil. So the cosmic drama begins . . . with Christmas. And as we move onward in the Church calendar, we shall follow the earthly abridged edition of the story, from the season of Epiphany to Lent, from Galilee to Jerusalem - from the wilderness to the cross. Following Paul's designation, we call this story . . . the foolishness of the Gospel.

And as another reflection, we recognize that this story of Immanuel, God with us . . . is not just His story, it is our story also. We are taken up into it and we become a part of the Christmas story as the Word that has become flesh has also become fruitful. The story of the eternal Word who was babied among us, Who is called Jesus, who comes into this world in its season of winter, a light that lightens the dark places. This Righteous One of God has come here to become your champion . . . to suffer and die for your sins; to win your battles against sin, death, and the devil; to fulfill and overcome the curse of the Law for you, and then to prepare a place for you in His heavenly family and Kingdom. From the dead of winter, He has come to act out his story given to him by the Father and then to make that story yours as well. He has come to take you out of the winter coldness of your sinful condition, and by the power of the Father's planted Word - its springtime! The branch from the stem of Jesse has born fruit. He is both the seed that has brought forth new life in you, and he is the Bread of life beckoning you to come and eat and be hungry no more. In His life you have hope and in His death, you have life.

So here in the winter season of cold deadness, here in the Silent Night . . . pull up a chair - eat, drink, and be merry. Feast at the Church's high Feast of the Blessed Nativity. And let all the images and metaphors of Christmas fill you with wonder and joy. In the Eden of the Church, he has raised up a Second Adam to lead you from the cursed ground back to paradise; from the land of thorns and thistles to the land of plenty; from the valley of the shadow of death to the green pastures and the still waters. He has raised up the Son of David, the One who is both his and your Lord and King, to reestablish His Kingdom and you as his subject in a reign of God that will know no end. Here in the Silent night of a winter season . . .He just does not bring a thaw, a momentary relief from the numbing cold of your falleness . . . but, by the warmth of His life and light, He raises you up unto newness of life, unto the righteousness of His grace and forgiveness . . . alive, growing, and fit for fruitful living. Merry Christmas to you all . . . and to all of you, a very good night.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. A-men.