We began the Advent season looking at Christmas through the eyes of the world. Last week we looked at Christmas through the eyes of Mary and Joseph. This week we want to look at Christmas through the eyes of the shepherds and wise men, and on Christmas Sunday we will look at Christmas through the eyes of God.
The Christmas story happened so long ago that sometimes it seems out of touch with our modern times. I once saw a “Dennis the Menace” cartoon where Dennis is saying to Joey: “People used to wish upon a falling star. . . I think that was before they had catalogs.” Today, Dennis would say, “That was before the Internet!” You can actually set up a “Wish List” on your Amazon account (Which I have done if you are interested.) Christmas was before we had a lot of things, but it brought the One thing that we needed more than anything else.
Christmas was such a long time ago that we have tended to idealize it—make it more glamorous and charming than it really was. Christmas was a real life event, and it caused real life problems as well as being wonderful. It was the highest event of human history, and certainly the greatest and most wonderful thing God has ever done for the human family. But at the time it was mysterious, and the events proved chaotic for those involved. Simeon accurately prophesied to Mary: “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too” (Luke 2:34-35).
No one, including Joseph and Mary, fully realized what was happening. No one understood what it was really all about. It is not always easy to understand why God does things the way he does. The Lord said through Isaiah the prophet: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:8-9). The events of Christmas proved the truth of that scripture if nothing else does. We sing the hymn entitled: “God Moves in a Mysterious Way”, in which we find these beautiful words:
Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up his bright designs,
And works his sovereign will.
Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain;
God is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.
As a Christian, I do not always understand why God does the things he does, but I have learned to trust him, even though his will for me may not always be easy — or even make sense to me. Perhaps you wish God would do things differently in your life to make it easier, but his will, even though it may not always be easy, is always best. The test comes when we decide whether or not to believe that and act as though it were true.
I’m sure if it were up to us to plan that first Christmas we would have done things quite differently. Let’s take, for instance, the people God chose to tell about the coming birth of his Son. Think for a minute about how many people really knew that God was sending his Son into the world on that wonderful night. The greatest event in human history, and yet out of all of the people in the world there weren’t a dozen people that were told about it, and they were very unimportant people — according to the world’s standards.
Of course, there was Mary and Joseph, and possibly Mary’s relatives, Zechariah and Elizabeth. Besides them, there was a small group of shepherds and some men from a foreign country. Other than that, as far as we know, God did not bother to tell anyone. And the ones he did tell did not fully realize what was happening. God did not bother to inform any world political leaders, and interestingly, no religious leaders were let in on the secret either. Outside of Mary and Joseph, just a very unimportant band of shepherds working nearby, and some mysterious foreigners who are never heard of again.
Now, if we were doing it we would do it quite differently. We would have it on the morning news with “on the scene” coverage at a world famous hospital. We would splash it on the front page of Time and Newsweek magazines. We would have visits by the leaders of all the great countries, and a special NBC report. Every newspaper, radio and television station would carry the story. Dr. Sanjay Gupta would talk of the rumors of a virgin birth and the medical improbabilities of that happening. Shows like 60 Minutes would have all the latest gossip, and bore us to death with opinions from everyone who was in any way related to the event. All of Mary and Joseph’s neighbors and relatives would all be interviewed, with close up shots meant to reveal their underlying feelings. They would discuss all the political and social ramifications of what this unusual birth would have, and if Andy Rooney were still alive, he would look at it with his usual satirical wit. No average person would be allowed near, and Secret Service agents would surround the hospital and the holy family. That is the way the world does things — it just isn’t the way God operates.
Imagine what it must have been like at the real Christmas, especially for the shepherds. They were sitting around a campfire on what must have seemed like any other night. Suddenly, the fire seemed to get unusually bright. The whole night went crazy, and as they looked up they saw an angel—a messenger from God. Then the sky was filled with all the heavenly host. Before the angel could say anything, he had to calm the shepherds down. “Fear not!”, he said. Fear had gripped them. They were so afraid they could not move or speak. After the angel reassured them he told them the most wonderful news that has ever fallen on human ears: the long awaited Messiah, God’s own Son, had been born into the world that very night, not far from where they were tending sheep.
You know they must have had unbelievable emotions at that point. And then they saw the heavens open with an army of angels praising God with music and singing like they had never heard before. That must have been one of the most overwhelming experiences any human being has ever had. As soon as it was over, they went rushing to Bethlehem to see what the angels were talking about.
It must have surprised the shepherds that no one else was there. I wonder if they really expected to see the Messiah. They probably felt that there would surely be a crowd pressing around him, and that they might get to be a part of the crowd, but never really get close enough to actually see him. And even though the angel told them that the baby would be lying in a feed trough, it must have shocked them a bit to see the less than ideal surroundings for such an important birth — the Messiah.
Surely they expected that because they were told, everyone knew about it, because they were no one special. What did those shepherds talk about when they left the scene and went back to their campfire? What kind of questions did they ask? How long did they stay awake thinking about what had happened to them? What could have been more exciting?
And think of those foreign astrologers, those philosophers, or wise men as they are called. (By the way, nowhere in the Scripture are we told that there were three, there may have been many more. Three has become the traditional number because of the three types of gifts — gold, frankincense and myrrh. We call them “Magi” which comes from the same word from which we get the word “magic” or “magician.”) We don’t even really know what they were like or what their position actually was. We don’t know why they were so favored, or how the importance of the star was revealed to them. Why were they told when the leaders of the Jews were not informed? They came traveling over blistering deserts and dangerous mountains, finally arriving at Herod’s palace, because they assumed that he knew what was happening in his own country. I wonder how they felt when they realized that hundreds of children lost their lives, because it was they who had gone to Herod with the news of a newborn “king”! I wonder how they felt when they realized their own lives were in danger, and they had to leave the country by a different route from the one they came. They came and they worshiped, but did they realize that this little king would not be a political figure, but a spiritual Sovereign, and he would not just be King of Israel, not even just King of the World, but Lord of the Universe.
How did they feel as they waited in their home country to hear of some great king, some distinguished leader of the people, arising in Judea? Did they ever realize that the humble teacher, Jesus, who preached from hillsides, instead of a palace porch, was the One to whom they had brought their gifts? Or was the news even important enough to reach their land?
What were the shepherds like years later? When the angel told them that this was the Messiah, they probably thought, like everyone else, that the Messiah would be someone who would free their country from Rome, and make the Jewish nation the greatest nation on earth. After all, as far as we know, Jesus never went back to Bethlehem. I wonder if it occurred to them that the Jesus that was going around preaching and healing was the same One that they saw in the manger that night. Maybe they thought he became a victim of Herod’s slaughter of the children.
It was such a tremendous experience when it happened, but as time went on the experience became confusing. How did other people react when they tried to tell them? How did the shepherds feel when they were asked why they were the only ones that saw the heavens open and the angels of heaven singing? What did they say when people questioned why no one else was told? And why would God open the heavens to them, and not to any of the priests or rabbis? God did not even bother to inform the high priest. How did they explain this strange turn of events? More than likely, people became critical of them and said that they surely must have been mistaken. The people they told may have said, “Maybe they had too much wine, or their fanciful stories got their heads reeling around the campfire. Maybe they were even lying about it just to get attention.” And so, as time went on, and as people were skeptical, and even critical, of their story, they must have wondered if perhaps their minds were just playing tricks on them, or somehow their emotions simply ran away with them.
I wonder how many of us have had an experience like that. Something has happened to you. You had an encounter with God, perhaps in your youth. The emotions were vivid, and it was all so real at the time. But as you tried to share that experience with others, you found that people were apathetic about what had happened. Perhaps they misunderstood you, and were cynical or even critical. And as the day to day problems began to set in, the experience got pushed further and further back in your life. People thought you were trying to appear superior to them, or they accused you of being a fanatic, and so, because of the problems this new experience was causing you, it became less meaningful. Or you began to wonder if the whole thing wasn’t the result of overwrought emotions due to the naivete of youth, or the problems you were facing at the time. You felt like the shepherds must have felt after their experience. . . a little confused, sometimes wishing it hadn’t even happened, or perhaps, longing to be able to tell people so they would understand. Maybe you wish you could feel a little of that experience again. It would be so wonderful if every night could be like that night in Bethlehem.
But we live by faith and not by sight. Philip Yancey defines faith as: “Believing in advance in something that will only seem logical when seen in reverse.” The Bible puts it like this: “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see... And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him” (Hebrews 11:1,6).
Even for those of us seeking God, the breakthrough experiences seem all too few. We can remember some significant spiritual experiences, but most of the time life seems all too mundane. John Eldredge in his excellent book Waking the Dead says, “Twenty clear days a year — that sounds about like my life. I think I see what’s really going on about that often. The rest of the time, it feels like fog. . . It’s awesome when I do see. But for most of us, life seems more like driving along with a dirty windshield and then turning into the sun. I can sort of make out the shapes ahead, and I think the light is green. Wouldn’t a little bit of clarity go a long way right now?”
But for all the commonness of our days, we need to be aware that God does break into human history and into individual human lives. It may be that most days are common, but we need to expect those days when the uncommon happens, and we are face to face with God and what he is doing in the world. We need to dare to believe; to dream big, and believe God for the miraculous and supernatural. We need to live like we are walking in God’s mysterious presence where anything can happen. God is in the business of the unusual, just when the texture of life seems most ordinary. We need to live in the excitement of God’s plan that can interrupt our routine world and jettison us into a whole new dimension of existence and experience. That’s how we are to approach every day of our lives.
The story is told of the renowned conductor Reichel who was leading a great orchestra and choir in the final rehearsal of Messiah. They had come to that point where the soprano soloist takes up the refrain, “I know that my Redeemer liveth.” With the chorus quiet, her elegant voice rang out. It was marked by perfect technique in breathing and enunciation. She sang every note just as it was written. As the final note faded into silence, the entire orchestra expected to see Reichel’s nod of approval. But instead, he stepped down from the podium and made his way to the singer. With a look of sorrow, he said, “My daughter, you do not really know that your Redeemer lives, do you?” “Why, yes,” she blushingly replied. “Then sing it!” cried Reichel. “Tell it to me so that I will know, and all who hear you will know that you know the joy and power of it!” Turning to the orchestra, he motioned to begin again. This time the soloist forgot about musical technicalities and sang the truth as she knew it in her own soul. The Messiah became more than a musical piece, it became a declaration of personal faith and experience.
Sometimes as we encounter God there are very genuine, very warm experiences. God is exceedingly real and close. But between those times there are often unremarkable days and periods of numbing normality. There are times when we have to live by faith alone, but we need to sing out what we know to be true. The things we heard from God: the words and the promises are just as real now as they were then. In spite of our problems or questions, it does not make the experience we had any less real than the shepherds’ experience. We want to shout that God has broken into our ordinary world with his extraordinary gift of Jesus Christ and eternal life — and he will do it again. That’s the way it was two thousand years ago, and that is still the way it is today.
Rodney J. Buchanan
December 18, 2011
Amity United Methodist Church
rodbuchanan2000@yahoo.com
