Text: Romans 15:13
Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed. The earthly story of the crucified and risen Savior began with the Christ Child’s birth in Bethlehem. There, in a stable, the hopes and fears of all humanity’s years were met in the person of God’s Son, our Savior and Lord. It is His story we tell; His invitation to salvation that this message shares. Amen.
If I say, “Christmas is coming!” you will immediately shoot back, “I know that,” and, of course, you do. The other day I asked some of my staff, “How do you know when Christmas is coming?” One said, “When my bank sends me my holiday greeting card with a new pocket calendar.” Another said, “I know Christmas is coming when I see semi loads of freshly cut Christmas trees heading south on the highway.” One, a father of six children offered, “I know Christmas is coming when I notice a dull, throbbing ache in my wallet.”
Christmas is coming. I always know the holy day is near when I see the Salvation Army bell ringers in front of major stores and shopping malls. My first recollection of the bell-ringers was when our family boldly ventured into downtown Chicago so my brother and I could see the brilliant displays of moving characters which filled the windows of the Marshall Fields Department Store. If my memory serves me correctly, the Salvation Army had a brass band playing, and in front of every door of every store there was a uniformed bell ringer smiling and ringing, and in between chimes wishing everybody, including a wide-eyed six-year-old boy a “Merry Christmas.”
Since that year every time I see a bell ringer, I know Christmas is coming and I gladly reach into my wallet to do what I can. Since I’ve become an adult every time I see a bell-ringer, I assess how they do their work. Some stick to a single bell while others manage to manipulate two, three, and once I even saw someone with five bells. One year I saw a bell-ringer who didn’t say much, he just kept up a beautiful, continuous medley of Christmas songs. I listened to him for half-an-hour and he never repeated the same carol. Beautiful voice. I wanted to ask him to join my church choir.
Yesterday, however, I had the opportunity to visit with a master bell-ringer. Pam had gone into the grocery store to pick up what she called “a few items” while I waited in the car and watched the bell-ringer do his thing. Without missing a beat on his bell, he was able to say something special to everyone. When someone looked worn down, he turned up the temperature on his smile and gave them a special, a sincerely warm holiday wish. If an elderly woman walked by, he would say something like, “Merry Christmas, young lady.” And the way he said it didn’t seem snide or sarcastic. On the contrary, every one of those “young ladies” giggled, smiled, and blushed. He bent down to talk to little children, and, for some reason, not a single child cried or hid behind their moms.
Wishing that I could be as sincere, personable, and polished as this bell-ringer, I got out of the car and visited with him. After exchanging a few pleasantries, I asked, “Can you tell when someone is going to put something in the kettle?” He said, “About 90 per cent of the time. It all depends on whether they look you in the eye or not.” Next I asked, “Aren’t you afraid of some negative fallout when you wish people a Merry Christmas? Aren’t you afraid of offending someone?” He laughed at that question. “You’re asking if I should keep Christ in Christmas. Sir, Christ is Christmas, I couldn’t take Jesus out of Christmas if I wanted.”
When I asked him to explain, he said something like, “Look at the people coming into this store. I look at faces all day and I see people who are busy, and tired, and confused, frustrated, angry, and hurting. I know some are bothered about things they’ve done and a few are sad about things they haven’t done or wished they had done. I’m just a bell ringer, but when I’m here I ask my Savior Jesus to give me the right words to say which might make a difference, just a little difference to these folks who walk on by. Mr., you asked me about keeping Christ in Christmas? What I see standing here is a lot of folks with a lot of hopes and fears. Their hopes and fears are always going to keep Jesus in Christmas.”
It was right about then that Pam came out of the store pushing a cart filled with nine bags of “just the few things” which we needed. I’m glad she came out when she did. I was glad because it was embarrassing for me to realize that a Salvation Army bell-ringer had, in a few minutes and without any rehearsal, had put the celebration of Christ and Christmas back into perspective. The other reason I was glad Pam came out is this: I wanted to race home and make notes on what the bell-ringer had said to me. I didn’t want to forget the really important truth which he had shared. Did you hear it? He said, people’s “hopes and fears are always going to keep Jesus in Christmas.” He was right, you know. The angel knew that the night Jesus was born. The angel knew about the terrors which trouble us. That’s why he began, “Fear not, for behold I bring you good news of great joy. Unto you is born… a Savior!”
Our hopes and fears will always keep Jesus in Christmas. Saint Paul knew that truth when he wrote to the persecuted church in Rome. To those who were frightened and fearful, who had no idea if they would see the sunset or be there to greet a new dawn, the apostle said, “May the God of all hope fill you with all joy and peace.” Saint Paul knew only a living Savior has the ability to put hope into hearts which are filled to overflowing with hopelessness. Giving hope. That is what Jesus does. It is what He has always done.
And Jesus’ hope is what the world has never wanted. Since before recorded history, we humans have tried to live as if we had created ourselves. We struggle and strive to invent some sort of happiness which doesn’t include God. Even now, there are governments which are trying to legislate the Lord out of the lives of their people. At this moment there are educators who are trying to scratch the spiritual out of the lives of their students. It’s almost amusing to watch their antics as they rechristen Christmas vacation and call it a “winter” vacation; as they turn Christmas trees into “magical” trees. (As if that makes any kind of sense at all.) Rather than caroling: “We wish you a merry Christmas,” children are now encouraged to croon: “We wish you a swinging holiday.” Besides being a terrible match of words and rhythm, the wise educator who came up with that policy should get an “F” in word etymology. He has forgotten the word holiday is just a modern term for holy day. And while educators, lawyers, and legislators may manage to officially remove the Christ from being mentioned during the upcoming holy days, they will never be able to remove the sins, the fears, and the need of people for a Savior.
If you doubt me, go to your local library and see the shelves filled with the long, terrible history of humanity’s futile and frustrated struggles to live without a Savior. What, you don’t like to read history books? Fine. Then take a serious look at the history of your own life. As I travel, more and more I’m confronted by multitudes of people who are fighting an overwhelming and overpowering feeling of hopelessness. “What’s the use of trying?” they ask; and who can blame them. Who among us has not known hopelessness as the days of our lives are littered with broken dreams, defeats, and disappointments? We soothe our jarred and jangled nerves by saying, “Well, at least it can’t get worse;” but then, somehow it does just that.
Indeed, the more we strive and struggle to do without God, the worse things become. What madness possesses the world to try and stop the Christ who alone can confront and conquer our fears? Think about what would happen if they managed to succeed in silencing the Savior. Imagine what the world would look like if God’s Son had not been born in Bethlehem to conquer sin, death, and Satan. Understand, I’m not talking about the obvious differences we would see: differences like the need to change our western calendar which currently separates all of history into events before and events after the Savior’s Bethlehem birth. I’m not talking about the lack of church spires and Christian schools which dot our cities and our countryside. Nor am I referring to the universities, hospitals, and charitable institutions which would never have been funded or founded. I am not even thinking about Christmas cards left unsent, Christmas carols unwritten and unsung, or Christmas presents never purchased or given.
How would our world be changed if Jesus had not come to be God’s heaven-sent hope who alone is able to evict and eradicate earthly fear? If Jesus had not been born, this world would know only God’s law and never God’s grace. Our Scripture would begin and end with, “The wages of sin is death.” If Jesus had not come, no sinner would ever hear the rest of the story: “The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Romans 6:23). If Jesus had not come, we would ever and always hear: “The soul that sins will die.” Left unspoken would be the comforting words of God’s undeserved kindness: “By grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not of your own doing; it is the gift of God…” (Ephesians 2:8).
How would the world be changed if Jesus had not been born? If Jesus was not born in Bethlehem, then we are, and will always be, nothing more than human animals whose time between birth and death can be spent on the selfish pursuits of self-satisfaction, self-pleasure, and self-aggrandizement. If we are only human animals, why shouldn’t parents feel free to abort or abandon their children who are an inconvenience; why shouldn’t society put down the elderly, the infirm, the physically and mentally challenged, who no longer are able to contribute or have a quality of life which meets some randomly selected standard? If Jesus has not been born, why shouldn’t the dictator and the despot, the thief and the terrorist, the murderer, the rapist, feel free to do whatever gives them personal pleasure?
If Jesus has not been born to substitute heavenly hope for the horrors of humanity, why shouldn’t we all do exactly as we wish, to whom we wish, whenever we wish? If Christ has not been born, those who are beset with a guilty conscience and who carry a heavy heart can be given no greater comfort than the words: “Learn to live with your problems, or forget about them. Nothing can be done to help you.” If Christ has not been born, why even bother to think about things like the environment; why try to manage the national debt; why worry about the world we’re going to leave to those who come after us? Let the next generation take care of those things; it’s not our problem.
If Jesus has not been born in Bethlehem, those who are blind will never be able to look forward to a heaven where they will be clearly able to see their Savior’s face; the deaf will never be able to hear the anthems of the heavenly chorus; the crippled can be given no comfort of a day when they will stand before God’s throne of grace; those who are in chronic pain must be shown a future which holds only pain killers and no Savior who can conquer pain. If Jesus is not born in Bethlehem, there is no future reunion for the widow or widower who stand silently in tears before the grave of a spouse of 50 years; there is no comfort for the aching heart and empty arms of a mother and father whose child has died. If Jesus has not been born, there is no Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world; there is no resurrection; there is no narrow path, or any kind of path, to heaven for there is no heaven. If Jesus is not born there is no truth which can be trusted; there is no life other than the one we enjoy right now. If Jesus has not been born, there is nothing in our futures other than a waiting casket and a dark and damp grave. If Jesus has not been born Saint Paul is right: “We are of all people to be most pitied” (1 Corinthians 15:19).
Pity, hopelessness, that becomes our future when the world manages to move Christ out of Christmas and banishes Him from our lives. But, as my wise bell-ringer said, “We can’t take Jesus out of our lives if we wanted to.” Our fears will keep us looking for the Savior and hope given by the Holy Spirit will assure us when Christ has found us. With the coming of the Christ, God’s grace has arrived. With the coming of the Christ, the angels could announce we no longer need to be afraid. With the coming of the Christ, Saint Paul could proudly pray: “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.”
Understand, Paul wasn’t talking about a Jiminy Crickett “wish upon a star” kind of hope. Saint Paul is talking about a complete, comprehensive confidence in the commitment of the Christ to save us. Paul wasn’t talking about a namby-pamby, wishy-washy, which-way-is-the-wind-blowing kind of hope; he was speaking about a Holy Spirit-given trust which takes a doubting, discouraged heart and leads it to believe that Jesus has been born to carry and take away our sins; to sacrifice Himself so we might be forgiven and saved; to allow the news of His resurrection victory to fill us with faith which knows and trusts that we, too, shall someday rise from the dead.
Paul is talking about a hope which so fills those who know Jesus as their sacrificing, substituting Savior that fear itself finds itself without a place to call home. Paul is talking about a hope which believes Christ’s coming, His cross, His conquest of death, will open the doors of heaven when despair wishes only to close them. Today the Lord offers you a hope which clings to what Christ has done, rather than being dragged down by what you can’t do. Christmas is coming; I pray it comes for you, to your heart, to your fears.
A good number of years ago, on Christmas Eve, a preacher was out visiting some families. As he walked through the neighborhood populated by Italian immigrants, he noticed two colored ribbons had been tied to one of the doors. A door with a red Christmas ribbon wasn’t unusual; almost every door boasted a red ribbon to proclaim that this was a house which was celebrating the Savior’s birth. The minister’s attention became focused on the other ribbon, a black ribbon, a ribbon which said this house is in mourning.
He knocked at the door, and the father of the family let the preacher in. Introductions were made as the Savior’s servant was led to the sitting room where a small casket with the body of the family’s six-year-old daughter was lying in state. As the minister started to express his sympathy, he was interrupted by the voice of the man’s wife who was reading to her little boys from the next room. They could hear her: “And the angel said, ‘Fear not, for behold I bring you good news of great joy. Unto you is born… a Savior.'” Shutting the door so as not to be disturbed, the man said, “Reverend, it’s going to be all right. We are Christians and when we go to mass tomorrow, we know our little girl will be seeing her Savior.”
That was a home where Christmas and the Christ had come. We at The Lutheran Hour pray that He comes to your home. Amen.
LUTHERAN HOUR MAILBOX (Questions & Answers) for December 9, 2007
The Golden Compass Part 1
ANNOUNCER: The Golden Compass – Where does it lead? Is this new movie meant to be an appetizer for atheism? I’m Mark Eischer and my guest today is Dr. Gene Edward Veith. He’s the provost and professor of literature for Patrick Henry College and he’s the author of 18 books, including The Spirituality of the Cross and The Soul of the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Dr. Veith, thanks for being with us today.
VEITH: Glad to be with you.
ANNOUNCER: The movie, The Golden Compass, is based on a novel by English author Philip Pullman. It won the Carnegie Award for Children’s Literature in 1995 and it was named one of the ten most important children’s novels of the past 70 years. However, some Christian groups are warning parents about the books and their content. Dr. Veith, maybe the easiest way to get at this, in this movie, The Golden Compass, who are the heroes? Who are the villains? And why?
VEITH: Well, this is part of a trilogy called His Dark Materials. And that’s a line from Milton, the great Christian poet. But Pullman takes the, by now pretty much discredited, view that Milton’s poem, which is about Adam and Eve and the fall of man, that God is the villain and that the devil is the good guy. And in this fantasy series that’s a sort of theme and a sub-current that goes on through all of them. The story itself is about some children who get caught up in this big adventure and this big quest involves different worlds. And the idea is that many different worlds are going on at the same time, so there’s actually many different realities going on, which ties in, of course, to our postmodernist view that everyone has their own truth. And villains are images of the Church, basically. A lot of it is cast in sort of anti-Catholicism, but you have these sinister priests and nuns who want to squelch all joy and all pleasure. Phil Pullman himself saw this as a way to critique Christianity. Just as C.S. Lewis is trying to open children’s minds and imaginations to Christianity, Philip Pullman in his books is trying to open children’s minds and imaginations to atheism.
ANNOUNCER: Would you say that he fundamentally misunderstands the Church and its message?
VEITH: Well, he does. Christians do not believe that God is a senile old man up in the sky, looking down on the earth. The God that we worship came down from heaven, was born as a human being, entered the human condition in Jesus Christ, and died on the cross to bear our sins and our afflictions. He (Pullman) is missing really the point of what Christianity is all about. He sees Christianity just in terms of Law, which is part of Christianity but he misses completely the fact that the main thing about Christianity is the Gospel.
ANNOUNCER: How much of this message do you get from The Golden Compass? Or is it only after you’ve gotten further along in the trilogy that these themes become so apparent?
VEITH: Well, a lot of readers start with The Golden Compass and don’t really see them. But if you’ve read anything about Pullman, and you know what he’s trying to do, you can see it being prepared for in The Golden Compass and it’s very evident. It’s subtle in the first one, it’s less subtle in the second one, and it’s blatant in the third one. But the same theme is being developed throughout.
ANNOUNCER: We’ve been talking with Dr. Gene Edward Veith. Dr. Veith, thanks for being with us.
VEITH: My pleasure.
ANNOUNCER: This has been a presentation of Lutheran Hour Ministries.
Music selections for this program:
“A Mighty Fortress” arranged by John Leavitt. Concordia Publishing House/SESAC
“A Babe of Beauty” by Lois Schnoor & John Boda. From Gentle Stranger by the Concordia Seminary Chorus (© 2004 Concordia Seminary Chorus) Concordia Publishing House/SESAC
“Allein Gott in der Höh” by Johann Pachelbel. From Wunderbare Weihnachtzeit (© 1989 Pilz Media Group)
“Macht hoch die Tür” by G. Weissel. From Christmas Pastorale by Minoru Yoshizawa (© 1995 Japan Lutheran Hour)