Theologian Reinhold Niebuhr said
that on Christmas, he preferred to go to a church where there was no sermon,
only music, art, and drama. "Words just aren't up to it,"
he said.[1] Niebuhr’s right. Words aren’t
up to it. That’s why we’ll keep our
words to a minimum today. But there is good
news in Christmas worth telling. A
few of those words are found in Luke
2:8-12. Mary has just given birth
and laid Jesus in a manger. They were
ready for visitors, and God invited some shepherds to come visit the
baby Jesus. Fitting, huh, because Jesus
is the Good Shepherd who is also a lamb.
Hear the word of the Lord …
8 In the same region, shepherds were staying out in the fields
and keeping watch at night over their flock. 9 Then an angel of the
Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they
were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Don’t be afraid, for
look, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people:
11 Today in the city of David a Savior was born for you, who is the
Messiah, the Lord. 12 This will be the sign for you: You will find a
baby wrapped tightly in cloth and lying in a manger.”
Near the end of November a few
years ago, I was driving up Higdon Ferry and noticed the message on the sign at
what was then Roland’s Barbecue.
(Hated to see that place close.)
I wasn’t sure what the sign meant.
So the next time I was in there, I asked the lady who waited on me, “What’s up with the manager?”
“What?” she asked.
“The manager—is
everything okay?”
“You want to see the
manager?”
“No, I just was
concerned that something was wrong because of your sign.”
“Our sign?”
“Yes,
your sign. You know, it says ‘Remember
the Manager.’ So I figured the manager
needed prayer or something.”
“Our
sign doesn’t say ‘Remember the Manager.’
It says, ‘Remember the Manger.’”
No wonder she looked at me like I
had lobsters crawling out of my ears.
And you’ll be glad to know that I neglected to tell them that I was the
pastor of First Baptist Church. (I told
them I was Methodist.) You’d think if
anyone would be able to read that sign it would be a pastor. Trust me, my antennae are usually
pretty honed in to anything of a spiritual nature I see in our secular
world. But boy, did I miss that one!
Well, I’m not going to miss it
today. It’s Christmas Eve. It’s time to remember the Savior who is
Christ the Lord and that his first bed was a manger. Remember the manger.
We’ll remember a lot of other
things today: to pick up that extra gallon of milk, our favorite eggnog
recipe, to purchase a couple of more stocking stuffers, the words to the
familiar Christmas song on the radio, to make up the bed in the guest
room. There’s a lot on our minds
today. And not just adults either. Kids too: “What’s
in that big box?” “How much is in that envelope on the tree?” “Will Christmas morning ever get here?” Lots of things on our mind, lots of things to
remember.
Just don’t forget to remember the manger. Eternal word putting on human flesh and
making his home among us. Deity in a
diaper. Creator in a cradle. Lion of Judah a helpless cub. Feeder of multitudes nursing at his mother’s
breast. Eternal Word unable to speak a
word. Sinless perfection trusting
himself to human beings broken by their sins.
Remember the manger.
Remember the depths to which God would
stoop. Christ has always existed,
eternal in the heavens, the Word was with God and was God. When Christ emptied himself
to come down and save us, he didn't just do it halfway. Jesus checked his pride at the door on the
way down to earth. He didn't say, "I'll go so far and no farther." He didn't say, "I draw the line at a manger." He didn't say, "I refuse to be born in that dump." No, Jesus was willing to do whatever it
took, willing to stoop as low as he had to go, willing to make his
beachhead on the earth in a musty stable in Bethlehem. Jesus came all the way down. Now, no
one can say, "Jesus, didn't stoop low
enough for me." No one can say
that—not the poor, not the outcast, not the man without a home. Born as he was in a stable, Jesus
demonstrated total commitment to go as far as he had to go to seek and to save
lost humankind. Remember the depths to
which God stooped. Remember the manger!
Remember the lengths to
which God would go. We’re not talking a mission that takes him
from Hot Springs to Dallas, or Little Rock to Paris, or even Pine Bluff to
Siberia. We’re talking heaven to
earth, eternity to time. We’re
talking safe house to danger zone, holy habitat to Sinville, sure thing to
risky business. We’re talking about
going from being the subject of worship to being subject to abuse and scorn and
murder on a cross. But God’s love was so
true, his promise so sure, his commitment so deep, that no length was too far
to go on his mission to rescue us from our sins. James Irwin was part of the crew of
Apollo 15 that landed on the moon in 1971—one of only 12 men in history to have
walked on the moon. He did a lot of
speaking in churches after that moon flight.
And the tagline for his talk and for the autograph he signed on a
picture of him standing on the moon was this: “It is more important that God walked on earth than man walked on the
moon.”[2] Irwin’s right. Irwin and his crew traveled 238,900 miles to
walk on the moon. Jesus traveled way
longer than that on so many levels to walk on the earth. And his was no triumphant landing in
some exotic place like the moon, televised for all the world to see. Jesus landed in obscurity, in a podunk town
where few eyes would see him. Jesus
landed in a stable there. Jesus was laid
in an animal’s feeding trough. Remember
the lengths to which God would go.
Remember the manger.
And remember the price God
was willing to pay. You think Christmas costs you a lot? Consider what it cost God. The price of condescending to the likes
of us, the price of emptying himself, taking on flesh, humbling himself—the
Lord becomes the servant—the price of subjecting himself to the care of sinful,
broken people in a sinful, broken world, seems steep enough price already. But the price ratcheted even higher
when, as a man, he gave himself to be broken on a cross to save us from our
sins. The sinless one died for sinners,
taking our sins on himself so he could kill sin’s penalty and power for those
who put their trust in him, for those who come to him for salvation and
life. God sacrificed his only
Son. Jesus gave everything thing he
could give so that we could be saved, so that we could enjoy abundant, eternal
life on earth and beyond the grave.
Crucified. Dead. Buried.
And raised from the dead on the third day. That’s the price of our salvation. Jesus refused to sit on his throne twiddling
his thumbs and let you die in your sins.
No! Jesus was willing to stoop
lower than you can imagine, travel farther than you can chart, and pay a price
so high only God the Son could pay it.
Now, if you die in your sins and spend eternity in hell, it’s on
you. It’s not because God stood by and
did nothing to save you. He paid it all. I know: it’s not Good Friday; it’s
Christmas Eve. But hulking over the
manger on that dark night was the shadow of the cross. It’s why he came. It’s why he was born to die that we may have
life. So even here at Christmas, remember
the price God was willing to pay.
Remember the manger.
John Shea tells a story he calls
“Sharon’s Christmas Prayer.” It was
about a little girl—she was five-years-old, sure of the facts, and recited them
with dignity, convinced that every word was revelation. This is what she said:
“They were poor, they
had only peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to eat and then went a long way
from home without getting lost. The lady
rode a donkey, the man walked, and the baby was inside the lady. They had to stay in a stable with an ox and a
burro but three Rich Men found them because a star lighted the roof. Shepherds came and you could pet the sheep
but not feed them. Then the baby was
borned. And do you know who he was?” Her quarter eyes inflated to silver
dollars. “The baby was God.”
And Shea says she jumped in the
air, whirled round, dove into the sofa and buried her head under the
cushion—which is the only proper response to the Good News of Christmas.[3]
Don’t impoverish yourself in the
face of such good news. Even in the
hectic busyness of today and tomorrow, take time to remember the manger. And when you do, it’s okay to whirl and twirl
and fall on your face in worship too. It’s
Christmas: God is with us. God has come
to save us. Remember the manger.
