Christmas Eve, 2007 

A church choir director by name of Catherine Anderson was putting on a play for Christmas in her church. As she began planning the music, she asked one of her daughters and another little boy if they would be willing to play two verses of “Silent Night” on their flutes. She says she had to laugh when the boy replied, “But, Mrs. Anderson, I only know the first verse.”[1] (Think about it!) 

Sometimes we know a little more about things than we may realize! So tonight, as we look once again at a very familiar story, let’s pray that God will help us see something new…something fresh… something encouraging, or challenging from his eternal Word, and particularly from these passages that we all know so well.

***

In our three services yesterday morning we took a look at the song that the angels sang to a surprised – shocked – group of Shepherds out in that field near Bethlehem: 

“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” 

For the benefit of those of you who were not with us yesterday, I just want to again point out, that this angelic appearance was quite unexpected. 

In fact it would be difficult to overstate the shock value of even the appearance of that first, single angel, the one who brought the message – “Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.” 

To try and put ourselves in that picture… imagine a quiet night. Maybe a brilliant clear winter sky. You know how beautiful that can be. And picture a little quiet conversation between some shepherds who very likely had been doing this job together all their lives – in fact, the chances are pretty good that they were related, they were likely family. 

So, an occasional bleat of a lamb, but mostly just quiet, because the herd was settled in for the night.  This was a night like many, many, before… 

And when this angel appears, it wasn’t like some stranger just walked into their camp. He ‘appeared’ before them, and “the radiance of the Lord’s glory shone all around them”.  What does that mean? 

We get a hint of that in the book of Revelation, where John has a vision of the exalted Christ, i.e., Christ ‘unveiled’. Understand that this is poetic language, it is attempting to put into human terms something that is quite out of the realm of our understanding. But here’s how John describes Jesus in his glory: 

And when I turned I saw seven golden lampstands, and among the lampstands was someone like a son of man, dressed in a robe reaching down to his feet and with a golden sash around his chest. The hair on his head was white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were like blazing fire. His feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of rushing waters. In his right hand he held seven stars, and coming out of his mouth was a sharp, double-edged sword. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance. 

John’s initial response? Verse 17:  When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead.[2]

This is “the radiance of the Lord’s glory.” That is what those unprepared shepherds encountered on that first Christmas night. So we shouldn’t be surprised when we read in Luke 2:9 that having seen this angel, the shepherds were ‘terrified’. Or in King James language, “They were sore afraid.” (That means really, really scared!) 

But actually, there was even more – because suddenly – having delivered the Good News, it’s like the rest of heaven couldn’t stand it any longer, and that single angel was joined by lots more angels. Here’s how we put it yesterday morning: “Suddenly the armies of heaven, all bearing the radiance of the Lord’s glory, singing for all they’re worth, in all their majestic, angelic harmonies…” appear before the shepherds. 

The scene is powerful almost beyond imagination. Which makes the fact that it was being played out before a small group of …nobodies… all the more curious. I mean, let’s be honest, what more unlikely group could there have been to be the first to hear news of the most important event in human history? These are guys that had no money, no power, no importance (from society’s perspective). They were rough, probably dirty, uneducated…you get the picture? 

Why the shepherds?  Well, I have a thought about that, and I’ll share it with you in just a minute or two. But first let’s think about this… 

Did you ever experience something that had a huge build-up, but then turned out to be something quite less than expected? I remember a trailer for a movie a few years ago, can’t remember the name of the movie, but it was a comedy about a guy that unexpectedly became president of the US. And there were two or three moments in the trailer that just struck me as very funny. So I went to see the movie. And I was incredibly disappointed to realize that virtually the only funny parts in the entire film were those that I had already seen in the trailer.  A big buildup, followed by a let down. I felt that I wasted my money and my time. 

If you are a baseball fan (Phillies) you understand the phenomena of ‘let-down’ all too well. Even this year. As much as we enjoyed the drama of the end of the ’07 season, as the Phillies beat their nemesis NY Mets eight times in a row, and taking the NL East in the last days of the season, all that just made the post season all the more empty as they ran into the buzz saw of the Colorado Rockies… and were swept. Big build-up, followed by a let down. 

We all know of people – maybe some of you – who continually have high, exalted hopes for Christmas that end up unfulfilled. Fleeting images from childhood that we try to re-capture, or some picture of a ‘perfect’ Christmas that comes from what we think others are experiencing (but probably not) create an expectation that never quite seems to be realized. But we keep hoping – maybe this will be the year that the magic is recaptured? 

As human beings we are susceptible to this because we all seem to have a built in capacity to expect that the reality of something promised will be in proportion to the amount of hype that precedes it. Like Charlie Brown and Lucy with the football, we never seem to get it! 

The more hype, the higher our expectations. So, from Super Bowls to Christmases, to relationships, to our life’s goals… we are constantly on the edge of being let down. Those of you around my age will remember that song from 1969 by Peggy Lee that sums up this feeling: Is That All There Is? 

Well, all this makes me wonder what those Shepherds were expecting as they left their sheep behind and made their way to the tiny village of Bethlehem. Because in terms of hype…well, where do you go from a personal concert by the armies of heaven surrounded by the radiance of the Lord’s glory?  We obviously can’t know what the shepherds were thinking, but still I wonder what their reaction was upon arriving at that holy place. 

And seeing there … not a palace and armed guards, not military might, or wealth, or pageantry, or even any more angels. Not even a nice room…the best Bethlehem could offer them was a place out with the cattle in a stable.  One more surprise in a series of unexpected events. 

Yesterday I quoted Michael Card, a musician and composer, who said this: “That is what Christmas means--to find in a place where you would least expect to find anything you want, everything you could ever want.[3] 

I asked a moment ago ‘why the Shepherds’? Why these ‘nobodies’ instead of the angels appearing to Herod, or the High Priest, or the Sanhedrin – or virtually anybody else - someone who could have made an impact on that society with this knowledge?  I think that answer to that question is bound up in the contrast of what the shepherds found, having made the hasty journey to Bethlehem after that angelic concert. 

See, I’ve come to believe that the most significant parts in the communication of any important spiritual reality are those that come when we manage to peel away all of our worldly expectations and preconceptions…Jesus said, “My Kingdom is not of this world” and God was being very deliberate to allow us to see that right from the very beginning.  The power of the coming of Jesus was not along the pattern of anything that we consider important from our human perspective. 

The coming of Jesus was the inauguration of a Kingdom in which the greatest would be servants, in which power would be best demonstrated sacrifice, in which the response to hurt would be forgiveness and gace… a Kingdom in which the first would be last, and the last first… a Kingdom in which wealth is counted by what you give away. 

*** 

While working as a journalist for the Chicago Tribune, Lee Strobel was assigned to report on the struggles of an impoverished, inner-city family during the weeks leading up to Christmas. A devout atheist at the time, Strobel was mildly surprised by the family’s attitude in spite of their circumstances:  here’s what he wrote…

“The Delgados—60-year-old Perfecta and her granddaughters, Lydia and Jenny—had been burned out of their roach-infested tenement and were now living in a tiny, two-room apartment on the West Side. As I walked in, I couldn’t believe how empty it was. There was no furniture, no rugs, nothing on the walls—only a small kitchen table and one handful of rice. That’s it. They were virtually devoid of possessions.

In fact, 11-year-old Lydia and 13-year-old Jenny owned only one short-sleeved dress each, plus one thin, gray sweater between them. When they walked the half-mile to school through the biting cold, Lydia would wear the sweater for part of the distance and then hand it to her shivering sister, who would wear it the rest of the way.

But despite their poverty and the painful arthritis that kept Perfecta from working, she still talked confidently about her faith in Jesus. She was convinced he had not abandoned them. I never sensed despair or self-pity in her home; instead, there was a gentle feeling of hope and peace.”

Strobel completed his article, then moved on to more high-profile assignments. But when Christmas Eve arrived, he found his thoughts drifting back to the Delgados and their unflinching belief in God’s providence. Again, in his words: “I continued to wrestle with the irony of the situation. Here was a family that had nothing but faith, and yet seemed happy, while I had everything I needed materially, but lacked faith—and inside I felt as empty and barren as their apartment.” 

In the middle of a slow news day, Strobel decided to pay another visit to the Delgados. When he arrived, he was amazed at what he saw. Readers of his article had responded to the family’s need in overwhelming fashion, filling the small apartment with donations. Once inside, Strobel encountered new furniture, appliances, and rugs; a large Christmas tree and stacks of wrapped presents; bags of food; and a large selection of warm winter clothing. Readers had even donated a generous amount of cash. 

But it wasn’t the gifts that shocked Lee Strobel, an atheist in the middle of Christmas generosity. It was the family’s response to those gifts. In his words: 

“As surprised as I was by this outpouring, I was even more astonished by what my visit was interrupting: Perfecta and her granddaughters were getting ready to give away much of their newfound wealth. When I asked Perfecta why, she replied in halting English: “Our neighbors are still in need. We cannot have plenty while they have nothing. This is what Jesus would want us to do.” 

“That blew me away! If I had been in their position at that time in my life, I would have been hoarding everything. I asked Perfecta what she thought about the generosity of the people who had sent all of these goodies, and again her response amazed me. “This is wonderful; this is very good,” she said, gesturing toward the largess. “We did nothing to deserve this—it’s a gift from God. But,” she added, “It is not his greatest gift. No, we celebrate that tomorrow. That is Jesus.” 

To her, this child in the manger was the undeserved gift that meant everything—more than material possessions, more than comfort, more than security. And at that moment, something inside of me wanted desperately to know this Jesus—because, in a sense, I saw him in Perfecta and her granddaughters. 

They had peace despite poverty, while I had anxiety despite plenty; they knew the joy of generosity, while I only knew the loneliness of ambition; they looked heavenward for hope, while I only looked out for myself; they experienced the wonder of the spiritual, while I was shackled to the shallowness of the material—and something made me long for what they had. 

Or, more accurately, for the One they knew.”[4]

“That is what Christmas means--to find in a place where you would least expect to find anything you want, everything you could ever want.[5] 

May the Lord bless you with unexpected gifts out of his generosity this blessed Christmas season.