Harbor Church - Mid City

God’s Christmas

Luke 2: 21-40 Mid-City 12/26/10

Some of you were positive that we were going to be in Nehemiah. You thought we’d keep plowing. It’s Christmas—c’mon. We’re taking a one week break and then we’ll finish up Nehemiah in the next two weeks. Amazing book, so don’t miss the conclusion.

Today we’re going to talk about “God’s Christmas.” There is a difference, particularly here in America, between the Christmas that is celebrated and God’s Christmas..

(1) What is God’s Christmas? (2) Who celebrates God’s Christmas?

God’s Christmas is explained for us by both Simeon and Anna. Simeon describes God’s Christmas for us in v30, “For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all the people, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.” God’s Christmas is, according to Simeon, salvation coming to God’s people. That a people walking in darkness have seen a great light, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to Israel. That God has shown up, in the flesh, to as NT Wright so often says, to put the world to rights, to put Israel to rights, to put us to rights.

That is God’s Christmas. A celebration that He came, in the most unlikely and unconventional ways imaginable. As a baby. Salvation came as a baby. How utterly unthinkable. The same God that in the Old Testament seemed so other, so transcendent, so removed, so untouchable, drew near as a little baby. Remember the stories of the Old Testament. Of the ark of the covenant appearing as if it is going to fall and those right around it do what most logical people would do, they steady it, and they drop dead. The same God that told even Moses in Ex. 33 that he couldn’t handle seeing his face. His glory would be too much. So he passed before him and only revealed his back to him. And now, God comes as a baby, to be held, cuddled, cradled, to have his diaper changed.

Tim Keller put it this way. The mystery, the miracle of Christmas, is that God became soft. Isn’t that one of the things that we love so much about babies? They are so soft. I think I could sit and pet Virginia Grace all day. Her skin is so soft, so pure. Her cheeks. Ahh, and the thing about my daughter is that she is such a little snuggle bug. She is a cuddler. My other two were wiggle worms. Not Virginia Grace. She will press her face against yours and just leave it there. There is a picture, that I love dearly on the front of our website right now, of Marisela holding Virginia Grace and her face is pressed against Marisela’s. So soft, so beautiful. Or she will put her thumb in her mouth and nestle her head on my shoulder. You can count on it in the morning when you get her out of her crib. She nestles in. And I love it. The whole world feels right.

That is part of the mystery of God’s Christmas. That he became soft. That a holy, other, transcendent, all-powerful God became soft. So tender, such a joy to hold, to delight in, to cuddle up with. That is what a baby is and that is what God became.

Now I don’t know about you, but I feel al

most heretical talking about cuddling with God. As a Presbyterian, I like a sovereign, kingly God. I bristle when people try to make God out to be like a Hallmark card. But I think God coming as a baby challenges my Presbyterianness. He pushes the bounds of intimacy far beyond anything I ever thought imaginable. I am constantly amazed at how vulnerable, how intimate God wants to be with me and there is no better picture than the reality that he came as a baby (maybe Eph . 5).

For those of you who are not yet Christians, you need to know that this is utterly unique to the God of the Bible. Not Buddha, not the impersonal New-Age force, not Allah, not the polytheistic gods of Hinduism. No other world religion has a God who makes himself vulnerable, a God who comes in weakness, a God who is soft, inviting cuddling, press-your-face against mine type intimacy.

I know those of you who are skeptical come with lots of objections about what you don’t like about God—how could he be good if he allows all this suffering in the world, can God, the Bible, and science co-exist. At Christmas, God says to you, “Here I am. I come to you as baby.” Really, it was a brilliant strategy, wasn’t it. Who doesn’t like babies? You’re automatically put on the communist list or something if you don’t like babies. Seriously, God has been communicating to you in different ways and today, on Christmas, he says, “I come as a weak, helpless, defenseless, baby. The warmth, the tenderness, the softness that you feel in holding a smiling, cooing baby, this is how I present myself to you at Christmas. You need do nothing other than treasure me. Delight in me. See that is faith. Treasuring, delighting us, trusting.

For those of you struggling to reconcile God coming as a baby and the God of the Old Testament seemingly bent on vengeance and so unapproachable, let me CS Lewis describe for you how God’s Christmas makes sense of it all. Lewis says, “Supposing you had before you a manuscript of some great work, either a symphony or a novel. There then comes to you a person, saying, “Here is a new bit of the manuscript that I found; it is the central passage of that symphony, or the central chapter of that novel. The text is incomplete without it. I have got the missing passage which is really the center of the whole work.” The only thing you could do would be to put this new piece of the manuscript in that central position, and then see how it reflected on the whole of the rest of the work. If it constantly brought out new meanings from the whole of the rest of the work, if it made you notice things in the rest of the work which you had not noticed before, then I think you would decide that it was authentic. On the other hand, if it failed to do that, then, however attractive it was in itself, you would reject it. Now what is the missing chapter in this case, the chapter which Christians are offering? The story of the incarnation—the story of a descent and a resurrection.

So now you look back at the God of the Old Testament and it makes more sense. Not only do you see the transcendence of God, but through the incarnation you see his approachableness. Not only do you see his hard justice, but through the incarnation you see his soft, love. Not only do you see his power and might, but through the incarnation you see the allpowerful one becoming powerless. Lewis says now we have the missing chapter in the Incarnation. It all makes sense in Jesus, God becoming flesh. God’s Christmas is to say, ‘I give you myself, in the flesh, that you may know and love and relate to me.” God’s salvation in the flesh.

(2) Who celebrates God’s Christmas?

Let’s start with our text. I want you to get to know the cast of characters who celebrated God’s Christmas and then we’ll relate it to our world. In Mary, you have a teenage mom who is most likely illiterate. At her side, you Joseph who is also probably illiterate. And we know they are poor b/c look at v24 where it says that they offered 2 doves or pigeons. If you had any money, then you would offer a lamb and a dove. The Levitical law, however, allowed for the offering of 2 doves or pigeons only as an exception that was made for the poor. Anyone who could afford to do so was expected to offer a lamb and a dove or a pigeon. So, Jesus was born into poverty, with, most likely, illiterate parents.

Then you have Simeon. Simeon is an old man waiting for this One Shining Moment. I know, I just mixed March Madness and Advent—but this is Simeon’s One Shining Moment. V25 says he was righteous and devout, means literally that he was careful about his religious duties. In our parlance, we would say, “He never missed church.” But he also had a prophetic gift. He was one of those charismatic’s. Check out v26, “It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Christ.” He had this promise of seeing, greeting Messiah. This one Shining Moment.

Then there is Anna, a prophetess. Anna, the name, means grace. She was a woman committed to the grace of God. A widow, according to v37, until 84. Pretty similar focus to her life as Simeon. Read v37 “She never left the temple but worshipped night and day, fasting and praying.” Now she either lived there or she, like Simeon, was there every time the doors were open. These were people who dedicated their lives to worship. One focus: God. And she was so in touch with the Spirit that she knew where to go. Despite all the people in the temple, so many who walked past unaware of the babe in their midst, Anna, a woman of grace, in touch with the Spirit, found the longing of her heart.

Now, let me ask you: what do all these people have in common? the baby. The baby is what binds them. The baby is their hope, their highest longing and deepest aim. Messiah is the center for them. They have made their lives about him, so both are aware when he comes, when he is in their midst. So many missed it—not Simeon, not Anna.

So many missed Jesus. Why didn’t they? Mt. 5:8 gives you the answer, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” The pure in heart are the ones who see God. That is Mary, Joseph, Anna, Simeon. Pure in heart and because of that they see God.

But what makes them pure in heart. It can’t be their religious observance b/c lots of other religious people were in the temple that day. Lots of religious Pharisees missed seeing Jesus throughout his life. So, Biblically, what does it mean to be pure in heart in such a way that you see and celebrate God.

Well, let’s do a little Biblical work here. The word used for pure in heart in Matthew is used in the same sense as that of “clean” vs. “unclean.” If you look throughout the Old Testament the Jews had developed a very elaborate system of determining what was clean vs. unclean. In fact, you see that in our text. Mary, like all other women, was ceremonially unclean by virtue of giving birth for 7 days. Ironic, isn’t it, that you would be declared unclean by giving birth to the one coming to make you clean and atone for all sin. Nonetheless, this is why v22 says “when the time of their purification according to the law of Moses had been completed.” This is Lev. 12 and there are actually 2 ceremonies going on here—the dedication of the firstborn son and also Mary’s purification. So Mary makes an offering indicating her need for purification after the birthing of her adopted son. Oh, how I love adoption. Don’t get sidetracked.

So there was this elaborate system of purification that dealt with clean and unclean foods, animals, diseases, and on down the line. But the problem isn’t foods and animals—the problem is the heart. Jeremiah 17:9 says, “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.” See as good as Mary, the blessed mother is, as Joseph, as Simeon, as Anna—none of them, in and of themselves, have a pure heart. If they did, they wouldn’t have spent their lives crying out for God to make them clean.

See Simeon and Anna knew and treasured God’s promise to them in Ex. 31:13, “For this will be a sign between me and you for generations to come, so you may know that I am the Lord who makes you holy.” See all the covenants, all the sacrifices, all were pointing to one thing: God makes men holy, pure in heart. Not some goat or dove. Only God can do that through Messiah and that is what they longed for.

God spoke this truth in my heart as my wife and I were doing our advent devotionals together and Brennan Manning recounted this great story about St. Francis. One day St. Francis and Brother Leo were walking down the road. Noticing that Leo was depressed, Francis turned and asked: “Leo, do you know what it means to be pure of heart?” “Of course. It means to have no sins, faults or weaknesses to reproach myself for.” “Ah,” said Francis, “now I understand why you’re sad. We will always have something to reproach ourselves for.” “Right,” said Leo. “That’s why I despair of ever arriving at purity of heart.” “Leo, listen carefully to me. Don’t be so preoccupied with the purity of your heart. Turn and look at Jesus. Admire him. Rejoice that he is what he is—your Brother, your Friend, your Lord and Savior. That, little brother, is what it means to be pure of heart. The pure of heart praise him from sunrise to sundown. Even when they feel broken, feeble, distracted, insecure and uncertain, they are able to release it into his peace. A heart like that is stripped and filled—stripped of self and filled with the fullness of God. It is enough that Jesus is Lord.”

After a long pause, Leo said, “Still, Francis, the Lord demands our effort and fidelity.” “No doubt about that,” replied Francis. “But holiness is not a personal achievement. It’s an emptiness you discover in yourself. Instead of resenting it, you accept it and it becomes the free space where the Lord can create anew. To cry out, ‘You alone are the Holy One, you alone are the Lord,’ that is what it means to be pure of heart. And it doesn’t come by your Herculean efforts and threadbare resolutions.

“Then how?” asked Leo. “Accept being shipwrecked. See only the compassion, the infinite patience, and the tender love of Christ. Jesus is Lord. That suffices. Your guilt and reproach disappear into the nothingness of non-attention. You are no longer aware of yourself, like the sparrow aloft and free in the azure sky. Even the desire for holiness is transformed into a pure and simple desire for Jesus.

Leo listened gravely as he walked along beside Francis. Step by step he felt his heart grow lighter as a profound peace flooded his soul.

Francis said to be pure in heart means to be shipwrecked. Brennan Manning used this phrase and titled his reflection, “Shipwrecked at the stable.” Shipwrecked in your gaze and affection and beauty and wonder of Jesus. To be pure in heart is to be in Christ. Francis said it, “Of course none of us are pure in heart, but that is the wonder of Christ. That he is. Salvation, a light for revelation.

Are you Leo? You can’t forgive yourself. You keep looking at the mistakes you have made and you see the unpurity of your heart and it is killing you. Or you are stressed, anxious, fearful. Get shipwrecked at the stable. That little baby came to carry those burdens…

See he came to make you pure in heart. In Ford’s room hangs a cross. I have never seen another one like it. And, to be honest, don’t tell people from our tradition about it b/c they get a little uptight over icons and how Jesus isn’t still hanging on the cross. But there really is no issue with the cross in Ford’s room b/c it has a little baby on the cross. And I love it b/c it reminds that this little baby came for a reason. He came with a very specific purpose. To live and to die for me. To make me pure in heart so that I can see God.

So we really are back to CS Lewis, aren’t we. The incarnation—it really is the missing chapter that when put in place makes the whole Bible makes sense. Remember Lewis said the “Incarnation is a story of descent and resurrection. When I say “resurrection” here, I am not referring simply to the first few hours, or the first few weeks of the Resurrection. I am talking of this whole pattern of descent, down, down, and then up again. Picture a diver, stripping off garment after garment, making himself naked, then flashing for a moment in the air, and then down through the green and warm and sunlit water into the pitch black, cold, freezing water, down into the mud and slime, then up again, his lungs almost bursting, back again to the green and warm and sunlit water, and then at last out into the sunshine, holding in his hand the dripping thing he went down to get.”

God’s Christmas is that he was that diver who went down. Who sloshed around in Mary’s womb, who was willing to be a pooping and burping baby in a poor, illiterate family, who kept going down all the way through the mud and muck of our sin to snatch not only unpure, but spiritually dead hearts off the bottom and come bursting forth with us in his hands. To make us pure in heart, that we might see God. Oh, the wonder of God’s Christmas!

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