A certain family, a number of years ago, as was their custom, lovingly and carefully set out their beautiful porcelain nativity scene for Christmas. They were so very proud of this delicate, fragile thing of beauty; they had paid a good deal of money for it on a trip to Europe, and its value could not be measured only in money. Its value was measured in its beauty and in the sentiment they had by now attached to it. The features on the Virgin were quiet, demure, with a blush of pink on each cheek. Joseph was made with eyes lifted up to heaven, as if he were still in shock and awe over all that had taken place. Each of the tiny porcelain animals had a charm too, and you could hardly imagine these lovely things fouling a stable or chomping noisily on fodder. It was all very lovely, very fragile, and somehow very pure.
But this family loved their porcelain nativity scene and carefully brought it out each Christmas day, setting it under the tree, placing each figure in exactly the right spot, proudly placing everything in a semi-circle focused on the Christ Child. It was a ritual of adoration and devotion.
This year, however, things were a little different. Their young son, who last Christmas could barely walk, had been safely kept on the sidelines and away from this carefully constructed scene. But if he could barely walk last year, you know that by this year he had found his feet and was able to get around and do just about anything he wanted to do. And not only had he found his feet, but also he had found a stubborn will in there somewhere. Not only could he do just about anything he wanted, he did it. Or tried mighty hard at least.
And so this year when the manger scene was all in place, mother and dad turned to enjoy it with their child, who took one look, dashed into his room, and came out with a battered, ugly, livid green, purely revolting plastic dinosaur. And plunk … right there amidst baby Jesus and contemplative Mary and eyes-uplifted Joseph, one grinning dinosaur. Mom gave a little shriek and plucked it right out: no, no, this doesn't belong in here. This doesn't go here. No dinosaurs at the birth of Jesus.
A little later, Dad went back in the room to admire, once more, the manger scene and its pristine porcelain loveliness, and there it was again: wise man bringing gold, wise man bearing frankincense, wise man carrying myrrh, and all of them peering out from behind oversized, horribly toothy, monstrous gasoline-company-sponsored dinosaur. And so this time Dad rescues the situation and takes out the monster, and giving it back to his little boy, launches into a lengthy explanation: no, son, the dinosaurs were all gone by that time. And anyway they wouldn't have kept one of these in the stable. And besides, it doesn't look right. Now, run along, play, son, but keep this monster out of there.
That night, after their boy was tucked away for sleep, with visions of sugarplums dancing in his sweet little head, mom and dad once again went to the tree to drink in the sight of their perfect little nativity scene with its perfect little figures and their perfect little features. And there, well, let's just say now you can sing the Christmas carol, Ox and ass before him bow, and so does dinosaur. It was back again, in all its green glory.
But just as mom was about to take it out and consign it to the garbage can, dad had a flash of insight. Leave it … leave it. The boy is right. For Jesus, you see, came into a world of monsters, not a world of perfection. Jesus came into a world of ugliness, not of pure shimmering beauty. Jesus was born into a world where in fact there are monsters, monsters galore, monsters of war and hate and poverty and racism, demons of disease and violence and greed and sin. That's the point. That's the point precisely. When Jesus came, it was not to a world already so perfect that all he had to do was bask in its beauty ... no, when Jesus came, it was into a world full of fears and tensions, factions and failures … monsters all of them. And so do not construct in your mind this morning a picture of a calm and lovely world waiting to embrace God's gift; instead think of a world full of fears and anxieties, a people plagued with failures and sins. Think of green monsters on the horizon and you will be far more accurate and far more relevant. And you will be closer to the significance of the coming of this child.
When Jesus comes the mood is one of fear, and with good reason. There were many reasons to be afraid in that day. And they are not unlike our reasons to be afraid. Some feared a repressive government, which ruled with iron and troops and insult … and today millions have reason to be afraid of petty tyrants and of grand apartheid, of ideologies that enslave and of systems that destroy. Green dinosaurs all of them, fearsome and terrible, but part of the world, very real, very troublesome.
Others feared disease; without adequate medical care, without the resources to secure it even if it could be found. Little wonder that when Jesus comes, he comes as a healer, as one who heals all their diseases.
Others feared poverty, dulling, grinding, without real hope that they could ever lift themselves above the daily toil just to stay alive. Still others feared that their families would not hold together, or that their work would not be able to support them. On and on, a world of tremendous fears. A world of horrible toothsome monsters that appeared ready to destroy.
And so when the song of the angels is heard, of course the shepherds find fear in their hearts. But the news is "Be not afraid." "Be not afraid … I bring you good news ... of great joy ... a savior is coming." A savior is coming. Into a world full of fears, legitimate fears, a savior is coming. Be not afraid.
You see, you have to remember that those shepherds had become hardened, as we are, to the reality that almost always news is bad news. Almost always change, something new, is bad news. Or at least it is interpreted that way. What they had experienced was like what we experience; when there is an inbreak, when there is an interruption of our daily routine, usually it is not for the better. The physician says you have to go to the hospital; the phone rings and we hear of the death of a loved one. The headlines of the newspapers scream of airplane crashes and new conflicts and drug deals. Who knows, maybe even television news in Tyler, Texas is full of fearsome things! But seldom will they tell us of all the positive things that are happening; seldom do we hear of love expressed or peace fulfilled. And it becomes very easy for us to experience news, change, as fearful.
So the shepherds. But they are told, I bring you good news … good news of great joy ... a savior ... for God is still in charge. God has not abandoned his world. God has not given up on us. And God's work is moving ahead. Good news, be not afraid.
I know that it seems as though nothing has changed. I recognize that it appears on this Christmas morning that the world is in the same old dismal mess with the same tired green plastic monsters in it. But I tell you, to eyes who have faith to see it, there is good news of great joy. For God in Christ has worked to eliminate so much of the disease of this world ... I think today of a person like Robert Hingson, a great Baptist Christian, the inventor of the peace gun, who takes teams around the world In the name of Christ, and with jet stream inoculations can immunize thousands of people in a day's time. That's good news, and it comes because of Christ.
Or I think of those who have labored to destroy the monster of racism, men like King twenty years ago or Tutu and Boesak today, who because they serve Christ, because they are moved by Christ, bring good news to the oppressed peoples of color, good news of a great joy. When Jesus comes, fears do not last. They may last for a time, yes, but they are doomed to disappear; when Jesus comes: no fear. Be not afraid … good news, good news of great joy.
I say again, I know it seems sometimes nothing has changed and that the monsters are as alive today as they ever were, but I tell you I see a continuing quiet revolution. I see that men and women who will receive this Christ are being changed. I see that those who will make room in their lives for this Jesus are brought from fear and failure to victory and strength. And I see that they are making a difference.
In Rwanda, where the people fear because they have so little fresh water, Christian volunteers have gone to dig wells and bring refreshment. That's good news of great joy, and it has happened because someone received this Christ and his gift of hope.
In New York City, where young people are afraid to be on the streets because the drug runners and their customers are fighting for turf, down on the lower west side Graffiti Center functions as an outpost of safety and of hope. At Graffiti an 18-year-old gang member called simply “Snake” came rushing in one day, with his arm a bloody mess. He had been shot three times in quick succession; one of the bullets had also entered his back. But at Graffiti Snake found first aid, and more. Snake found people who stayed by him, who did more than take him to the emergency room and drop him. They visited him, they prayed for him, they loved him. And Snake, the drug dealer, became David, the street evangelist. Do not tell me only that there is much to fear. Tell me that you know that when Jesus comes, there need be no fear, for fear will be destroyed and the monsters will be defeated and he shall reign forever and ever.
You see, last night, we connected this birth with a cross, and we marveled that so lovely a life should end in so terrible a fashion, from swaddling clothes to grave clothes. But today is Sunday, Resurrection Day and today we connect this birth day with the new birth day, and we marvel that this one who left behind heaven’s glory has gained it again. We marvel that this one who set aside all privilege and. power and came to identify with our frailty, this one who laid down his life and redeemed us with his blood … we marvel that this one is on his way to the final victory. This side of the cross and this side of the empty tomb, we know that what the good news proclaimed at his birth is guaranteed. It will come. It will be.
When Jesus comes: be not afraid, no fear, for I bring good news of a great joy for all people: a savior is born.
When Jesus comes, be not afraid, no fear, for what wise men acknowledged with their gifts, what shepherds worshiped in their simplicity, what was made clear on another bright morning in the garden … he is King of Kings and Lord of Lords and he shall reign forever and ever. Alleluia, alleluia.
When the heavens shall ring and the angels sing at thy coming in victory, let thy voice call me home, saying, yet there is room, there is room at my side for thee. My heart shall rejoice, Lord Jesus, when thou comest and callest for me.
