Tonight we celebrate our Savior stepping into our world as a baby. We celebrate our Christ in a cradle. Sometimes in the sweetness and innocence of this moment, we miss the fact that the battle begins to turn in our favor at Jesus’s birth. Without the cradle, we have no cross and no empty tomb: we have no salvation and no hope.

But alas, Jesus came, taught, walked, healed, and loved here on earth. And when the time came for his mission to be fulfilled, he took our sins on his shoulders and paid the ultimate price for our rebellion to bring us redemption. He rose again on the third day and rules now–giving us victory over death and sin itself. We need the cradle of Christ because it leads to the cross and the empty tomb.

Colossians 2: 13-15 explains it this way:
And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, 14by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross. 15He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him.

As we light the Christ candle this evening: We acknowledge Christ’s cradle, His cross, and the empty tomb.

Father,
We praise you for your unfailing love. We thank you for sending Christ that we may be reconciled to You through His death. And we thank you for the victory we can claim because of His resurrection. We thank you for this Christmas and the very first one some 2,000 years ago.
In Jesus Name,
Amen.

You’ve probably noticed by now that the advent readings and the sermon’s themes this advent season have focused on hymns. For many of us, these hymns are rooted deep in our hearts and evoke all sorts of memories when we sing them. “Great is Thy Faithfulness” is Patrick and my marriage anthem as we sang it at our wedding. “How Great Thy Art” will forever be linked with William as we sang that song to him over and over as we cradled him as a baby. Jayna was not a fan of the singing, so there is no song attached to her infancy. Brennan’s song is “Rock of Ages” today’s sermon theme.

Today, I’d like to acknowledge something that typically gets glossed over when we celebrate and enjoy the light and love of Jesus coming as a baby. For some, perhaps many— Christmas is hard. It brings a sense of mourning and loss. Where do we turn when the joy of Christmas is overshadowed by pain? We go to Jesus.

Psalm 46 says God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble…
Isaiah 4:6 says There will be a booth for shade by day from the heat, and for a refuge and a shelter from the storm and rain…
Psalm 28:8 says But I will sing of your strength; I will sing aloud of your steadfast love in the morning. For you have been to me a fortress and a refuge in the day of my distress.

I could continue for quite some time with scriptural reference after reference…

The old hymn Rock of Ages states the same truth this way: “Rock of Ages cleft for me / Let me hide myself in Thee.” The beauty and truth behind this hymn is that it highlights our utter dependence on Christ for our salvation, sanctification, and our moment to moment: “Nothing in my hand I bring / Simply to the cross I cling.”

It’s ok for Christmas to be hard. Hide in Christ. He came as a baby and experienced the fullness of humanity for your sake and mine. He is not a far away God who rules at a distance. He offers an intimacy like no other. This is also a part of Christmas: Jesus –Immanuel, Jesus as man.

Father,
We thank you for sending Jesus although fully God to walk fully as a man. He understands our loss and he comforts us in our distress. We thank you for offering us a hiding place when all about us screams of glittering lights. You are our refuge and strength– and our ever present help. You are a good God, and the best of Friends– for that we praise you.

In Jesus Name,
Amen.

Those of us who walk in relationship with Jesus and have experienced His salvation have a story to tell. It may begin at different points in our lives, under a set of different circumstances and have had a range of impact, but the story is the same: “I was walking in darkness and saw a great light.”

Many of us have had our advent with Christ: the period in time in which we responded to the gift of salvation. As John 1 puts it: “ In Him was life, and the life was the light of men—” Christ is our light. My light. He’s a light worth sharing.

You have a light. Matthew 5 says, “You are the light of the world. A city set on the hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”

Telling our story is telling God’s story. In a couple of weeks, when we gather with our loved ones and friends, let’s be open to His leading and share when the opportunity arises. It only takes a bit of transparency and to be clued into the Holy Spirit’s leading. If you walk with Christ, you’ve got a story to tell. And whether they know it or not, others are desperate to hear and receive it.

The Light has come. He came as a baby. And he is coming again. We have no right to hide our lights under a basket: not when we are loved this well by a God this faithful.

I ask that you prayerfully consider who needs to hear your story. A three-fold prayer is highly effective: Lord, open a door, open a heart, and open my mouth.

Go tell it on the mountain, or in a card, phone call, or over a meal: Go tell it everywhere! Down in a lowly manager our humble Christ was born/ And brought us all salvation/ that blessed Christmas morn!

Father,
Help us to honor the gift of salvation we have received by sharing our light with others. Help us to understand the divine opportunity and responsibility you have given us when we were offered Your grace so freely. Help us to see like You do, and help us to love like You do. Help us to glory You by placing our light on a lampstand for all to see.

In Jesus’ Name,
Amen.

I’m sure you’ve heard that famous song by Faith Hill: “A Baby Changes Everything.” Most of us can recall the shift in the cosmos that happens when our firstborn comes into the world and into our arms and hearts. Babies do change a lot, but there is one baby who quite literally changed everything.

We are so familiar with our traditions and cycles of the calendar in our lives that we sometimes miss the opportunity to sit and ponder the mystery and miracle of Jesus as “the new-born King.” We don’t live in a “before Jesus walked on earth” part of history. We can’t really understand the system of necessary sacrifices or the laws, rules and regulations that needed to be meticulously followed to meet God’s standard. Afterall, isn’t the very point that we can’t do it. Effort alone cannot make one holy.

However, Jesus as a baby brings the opportunity to reconcile God and sinners. Jesus as a baby–”God coming in flesh to dwell / our incarnate Deity–” is the beginning of our way back to the Father. Jesus’s birth is the birth of hope. Our only hope. As the Christmas hymn says “Life and Light to all he brings / Born that we no more may die / Born to raise us from the earth / Born to give us second birth.”

Jesus explains his purpose in his own words recorded in Luke 19:10 “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” And for whatever reason, he came as a baby.

As we reflect on the 2nd week of Advent, take some time to sit and ponder the miracle and mystery of Jesus- our Savior, Creator, and Sustainer in the arms of his mother Mary.

Father,
We thank you for sending Jesus to earth as a baby. Thank you for making a way for us to be reconciled with you. Thank you for the hope that comes with the birth of Jesus. Help us never lose the wonder of Jesus: our newborn King.
Amen.