Text: Matthew 1:21
Christ is born. Thank God, the Savior has come. The Babe of Bethlehem, the Christ of the cross, the risen Lord of life has come to save people from their sins. In thanksgiving for His life, which dispels our loneliness and gives us life, we begin. Amen.
It was lonely in the streets of Goldberg, Silesia. The month was December in the year of our Lord 1353, and it was lonely that Christmas Eve. In the early 1330s an outbreak of bubonic plague occurred in China and by October of 1347 it had spread to Europe.
The disease struck and killed people with terrible speed. An Italian writer sadly observed, people who contracted the plague “ate lunch with their friends and dinner with their ancestors in paradise.” Each spring the plague spread further and medieval medicine was helpless to stop it. After five years, 25 million people, 1/3 of Europe’s population, were dead. In 1353, the plague eventually made it to Goldberg. Having heard how entire cities and hamlets had been depopulated, filled only with rotting and unburied corpses, the people of Goldberg quickly locked themselves away in their homes. Without newspapers, radio, television, no one knew what was happening to family and friends; no one knew how long the plague would last. Goldberg, Silesia, was a lonely place to be on Christmas Eve in the year of our Lord 1353.
Finally, after weeks of lonely isolation one man, and only one man, ventured out of his house at midnight on Christmas Eve. He knew that he was the only person in the village who had survived. As he walked through the streets, every shop he passed held recollections of people with whom he had done business; every house was packed with memories of someone he had known, whom he had loved. The man knew it was Christmas Eve, and even though he might be alone, even though he knew his moment of death might be imminent, he raised his voice to sing. He sang an old Christmas hymn. You might know it; it begins this way: “A great and mighty wonder. A full and holy cure: The Virgin bears the Infant With virgin honor pure! Repeat the hymn again: To God on high be glory And peace on earth to men!” He was, in his loneliness, comforted by the Savior’s song. He repeated the verse.
In the stillness of the night his voice echoed off the bolted doors and shuttered windows. And then, from behind a barred door, another voice joined with him in the singing. Soon that person stood beside him in the street. Together they sang in the late Christmas Eve hour: “Since all He comes to ransom. By all be He adored, The Infant born in Bethl’em, The Savior and the Lord. Repeat the hymn again: To God on high be glory And peace on earth to men!” Their songs brought strange replies, and from living tombs people emerged. All that was left of the town were 25 survivors; still with new courage they marched through the death-stricken streets singing of the love of God which had become incarnate in Jesus, the Babe of Bethlehem, the Christ of the cross, the Savior of the open tomb. Surrounded by death, because of the Christ, they could confidently sing: “To God on high be glory, and peace on earth to men.”
The world doesn’t want me to say it, and you, near the end of your festival preparations may not want to think it, but the truth is plain: loneliness and Christmas are connected. They have always been connected. When the angel appeared to Mary and announced she would, by the Holy Spirit’s power, conceive a child, the virgin would have been lonely. To whom could she speak, to what individual could she bare her heart and tell of this wondrous and unexplainable miracle which God had said would happen? I ask every woman listening: If you had been Mary, could you have told your father or mother you were pregnant by the power of the Holy Spirit? Would they have believed you? What friend could you trust with a bit of information which would ruin your reputation and your life? Which fiancé would believe your explanation of a Divinely-conceived child?
Loneliness and Christmas are connected; they have always been connected. Joseph was a simple carpenter in the off-the-beaten path town of Nazareth. Although Joseph might not have admitted the fact to his teasing, joking, bachelor friends, he was looking forward to establishing a home managed by a loving wife, and if God willed it, blessed by children to carry on his name. Those plans were set aside the day Mary came and shared the news: she would soon give birth to a child. Yes, she had said hers was a miracle child, but what else could she say? Joseph didn’t know anything about angels and miracles and Messiahs. He only knew that the baby wasn’t his. With whom could Joseph share his heartache and hurt? His friends would have listened, and having listened would have sought revenge against Mary and the baby’s unknown father. Joseph didn’t want that. An honorable man, he decided to call off the wedding and keep busy at his work. Maybe, someday, he would get married. But not now; not to Mary.
Loneliness and Christmas are connected; they have always been connected. It was lonely in the fields of Bethlehem the night of Jesus’ birth. With the sheep quieted, the lateness of the hour and the great star-studded expanse of sky would have demanded the shepherds settle down as well. Yes, the wind might have brought them joyful shouts from the family reunions taking place in census-swollen Bethlehem; it might have carried the sounds of laughter from one of the town’s taverns, or the cadenced thuds of Roman soldiers on a night march. But mostly the shepherds would have been left with their lonely, private thoughts. On the night of Jesus’ birth, did they mull over the injustices of life? Did they think it ironic the lambs they were guarding would someday go to the temple, while they might be forbidden entry to that holy place because of their uncleanness?
Loneliness and Christmas are connected; they have always been connected. The Bethlehem stable was a lonely place for a carpenter, his bride, and their newborn child on that first Christmas night. By Caesar’s decree, and God’s wishes, they had returned to the place their distant ancestors had called home. Certainly, because of crowded conditions and possibly because no one likes to occupy a room next to where a woman is giving birth, the best lodgings they had found were in a stable. They may not have understood the dangers of bugs and bacteria, but they would have known an unantiseptic stable with all its sights, smells, and unsanitary surroundings is not the place to give birth to a child. It would have been lonely there without family to pray, to supervise, to offer advice, to hold your hand.
That the baby had been born without complications, that He seemed healthy enough, was of great comfort and cause for rejoicing. Even so, as they looked into an animal’s feeding trough and saw their baby securely swaddled, Mary and Joseph might have felt very much alone. A child the two of them had not conceived had been born in a village which was not their home. Would not any parent wonder: Who are we, what qualifications do we posses to be His parents? How do we play the roles of mother and father to the sinless Son of God? They would have been forgiven if they had asked, “Lord, what is to become of us? Where will we go from here?” It was lonely in the Bethlehem stable that first Christmas night.
Loneliness and Christmas are connected. This Christmas message of The Lutheran Hour is going out to lonely souls all around the world. This Christmas message is reaching out to those who are in prisons, who have, for whatever reason, been removed from city streets and society’s sight. Many prisoners live in places where isolation from all which is familiar makes it easy to become hardened in heart and doubtful of the future. Even so, this message comes to you appealing to your God-given knowledge that, in Jesus, life can be different than that which you may have known. That in Christ’s cradle, cross, and open tomb, there is forgiveness and everlasting freedom.
Loneliness and Christmas are connected. This Christmas message is being delivered to many military people who are stationed in lonely places far away from home; places whose names which are difficult to pronounce, and if they can be pronounced, most will still not know their location. Motivated by obligation, commitment, a sense of duty, orders, you have been brought to a place where the closest you can come to family and friends will be an air-mailed picture, a few minutes on the phone or a short conversation on the Internet. Your Christmas is clouded by the knowledge that you cannot hold and touch those who are closest to you; and they can’t reach out or be with you. Still you have, in Jesus, the knowledge that the love of Christ, His sacrifice and His redemption, can conquer those miles and bridge the distances which separate you.
Loneliness and Christmas are connected; they have always been connected. Go to a nursing home and you will find loneliness. “Will my daughter call; will my son visit? Does anyone remember me, or must this Christmas be filled only with memories of past celebrations?” Go to hospitals and you will find loneliness. There are those who are keeping a long and lonely vigil by the bedsides of loved ones, some of whom may not even know you are there. Loneliness and Christmas are connected. How many of you who are listening to me have suffered an earthly loss this year? How many have said an earthly good-by to a spouse of 50 or more years? Have many of you cried when you realized you no longer had to buy a Christmas gift for a deceased loved one? Did you weep as you decorated your tree; have you been going through the season motivated more from habit than heartfelt desire? The Lord of life, born in Bethlehem, the conqueror of death and grave, can assure you; with faith in Him, heaven has a reunion which makes the best of earthly celebrations seem pale and poor.
Loneliness and Christmas are connected. And if what I have said so far seems discouraging, you should know I have barely scratched the surface of humankind’s isolation. I have not spoken of the child who is always picked last for everything, or of the teen who feels stupid, unloved, or ugly. I have not spoken about the person who is troubled by decisions made today, or yesterday, or long ago; decisions which seemed easy to make back then, but have become harder to live with over the passing of time. I have not spoken about the loneliness of those who wonder if God has forgotten them, or whether He will bring them safely through their difficulties. I have not begun… let us leave it at that. I have not begun to touch upon the many faces of loneliness.
As Christmas comes this week, we are all forced to admit loneliness is present wherever there are people. We must confess that our tinsels and trees, our packages, parties, and presents, cannot overcome loneliness. The television tells us the true meaning of Christmas is family and that is a beautiful sentiment, but when children must, because of divorce, pick one parent over another for their holidays, loneliness remains a reality. Advertisers say the true meaning of Christmas is giving, but the terrible, time-consuming, crowd-fighting struggle to find the right gift for those we know sends the spirit of sharing into a tailspin.
Now, if this message has seemed sad, that is all about to change; indeed, it did change 2,000 years ago in a Bethlehem stable. It changed because God’s Son, the world’s Savior was born. Jesus Christ has come to be one of us, to take our place, to save us from our sins. That is the Gospel; that is the Good News of salvation the angels shared with the lonely shepherds. It is the Good News God gives to you today. Now you may find it difficult to believe this Good News; you may wonder if it really can be true, and if it is, can it be true for you. If that is what you are asking, join the shepherds who went to see this thing which had come to pass. Join them in a procession which has lasted 20 centuries. Join them to see the Savior who has carried your sins, who has died your death, who rose from the grave so you might live forever. Go with them, see the baby; see for yourself how He fulfills the ancient prophecies, see how He does the work only the Son of God can do, see the wonders of His love. See and know; you need no longer be lonely.
Jesus is born for you. Let the news be shared with those in prison. Has society turned its back on you; are you forgotten by those who were closest to you? Know this: God has not forgotten you, but He does wish to forgive you. Jesus has been born for you and as your Savior, He knows every sin that you, I, and the rest of the world have committed. As the sinless Son of God, He saw and carried our transgressions to Calvary. There, on His cross, God’s Son willingly took the punishment for every one of our sins and by His sacrifice and death, has erased and forgiven every transgression. Because of Jesus’ sacrifice, lonely, repentant hearts are forgiven and free.
Jesus is born for you. This Christmas, do you find miles separating you from those who love you? If so, be comforted. Jesus, who with His life managed to defeat the devil; who, by His resurrection has conquered death; can also, in His love, bridge any gap which separates you from family. Are there arguments and animosities which divide you? The Babe of Bethlehem can unite you. Do you have misunderstandings about the past and misgivings about the future? A living Lord Jesus Christ promises He is with you always… and because He is with you, nothing in all of creation, not even loneliness, can separate you from the love of God which is yours through faith in His great and glorious life, in His sacrificial death, and in His glorious resurrection.
Of course you may still wonder, “If all this is true; if Jesus has been born for me, and if He has done all you have said, why do I still feel so lonely?” To your honest question I offer this honest answer: even as Jesus has died to save you; sin, Satan, and death, continue to work to keep you separated from the Savior and the blessings which Christ’s birth most surely brings. Each day these unholy three will design and develop that which will try and keep you isolated and alone; every day they will create and construct problems and pains which will keep you from the comfort and companionship of the Christ. The simple loneliness of childhood will be replaced by the mature aloneness of adulthood. Yet, to those who will look with eyes of faith into the Christ Child’s cradle, who will stand before His cross and look into His open tomb, the angel’s words are the great reality of life: there is good news for us. “Unto us is born a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”
Jesus is born for you. Has loneliness convinced you that you are unloved? Hear the Christmas message which says Jesus’ entire life was spent proving God not only loves you, but He wants to forgive you and bring you into His family of faith. Has loneliness persuaded your heart there is no one who understands you? Then receive Spirit-given confidence which says Jesus not only understands, but He continues to love the lonely and offer healing to the hurting. Jesus is born for you. There is no place you can go where He will not be. Jesus is born for you. There is no sin you can commit which He will not forgive. Jesus is born for you. There is no grief you will ever experience which He cannot comfort. Jesus is born for you. By His birth, death, and glorious resurrection, loneliness has lost and God has good news: Jesus Christ is born. The Savior from sin is God’s gift of saving grace; God’s gift which frees our lonely hearts to sing: “To God on high be glory And peace on earth to men.” That is the good news we share. And if you wish to hear more of this message of good news, call us at The Lutheran Hour. Amen.
The Christmas story as recorded in the Gospel of Luke:
In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to his own town to register.
So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped Him in cloths and placed Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; He is Christ the Lord…”
Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom His favor rests.”
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”
So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen Him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
Music selections for this program:
“The First Noel” and “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” arranged by Timothy Moke and Georg Masanz. From Magnificent Christmas Hymns, vol. 1 by Timothy Moke & Georg Masanz (© 2007 T. Moke Recordings)
“Infant Holy, Infant Lowly” arranged by John Leavitt. From What Child Is This by John Leavitt (© 2002 John Leavitt/Concordia Publishing House) John Leavitt/ASCAP
“O Jesus Christ, Thy Manger Is” by Paul Gerhardt & Ken Kosche, arr. Richard Resch. From Infant Holy – Christmas with the Seminary Kantorei (© 2006 Concordia Theological Seminary, Ft. Wayne) Tune © Kenneth Kosche
“Lo, How a Rose Is Growing” arr. Jerry Gunderson. From Hymns for All Saints – Advent, Christmas, Epiphany (© 2005 Concordia Publishing House/SESAC)