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Christmas: Not a Time for Inventing New Twists on the Age-Old Story

Christmas: Not a Time for Inventing New Twists on the Age-Old Story

“Unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:11).

Just tell the story.

Tell the story with faithfulness and respect. Tell it accurately and fully, bringing in the accounts of Matthew and Luke, drawing from the prophecies of old.

Tell it with gusto and love. Tell the story of the birth of Jesus with all the excitement of someone hearing it for the first time. Tell the story without detouring into theories and guesses and myths and controversies.

Your Christmas sermon is no time to conjecture on how planets aligned themselves into creating that wandering star which led the Magi to Bethlehem. Keep in mind that it “went before them until it came and stood over where the child was” (Matthew 2:9). Try doing that with planets. Stay on the subject, pastor, and don’t waste your time.

Your Christmas sermon should not waste everyone’s valuable time on the pagan origin of Christmas or the history of Augustus’ census, unless you’ve found something worthwhile, pastor.

Stay on the subject.

Tell the story with imagination and appreciation.

Try to imagine how Mary must have felt. Evidently, she was living a normal life of a young Jewish maiden when the angel of the Lord interrupted her with life-changing plans. Talk about show-stoppers! “How can these things be” indeed! What will people think? What will Mama say? How will I ever be able to pull this off? What is the Lord up to? And why me, of all people?

Try to imagine how Joseph must have felt. The young lady who has won his heart and for whom he has been making plans informs him that she is pregnant. And has the chutzpah to claim it’s the Lord’s doing and that she is still pure. Oh yeah. Put her away? That’s the only way. A godly person has to avoid even the appearance of evil. And then one restless night, an angel appeared with information that changed everything.

Try to imagine how the families of Mary and Joseph must have felt. Talk about mixed emotions! Maybe their traveling to Bethlehem is a good idea. Get the girl away from home so the neighbors won’t know that this baby was born too early, so to speak. Perhaps Mary and Joseph will go on living in Bethlehem after its birth so people around here will forget the scandal and conveniently lose track of the years.

Imagine how Gabriel must have felt. He was making the greatest announcement ever—the one awaited since the Garden of Eden fiasco—and the only audience is a small group of wide-eyed shepherds. Will these unsophisticated types appreciate what’s being said, understand what this means, drop everything and go? Or will they be as dull as the religious leaders in Jerusalem?

Imagine how the angelic choir must have felt. They practiced that little song for eons and traveled zillions of miles and then, when the curtains were opened, they found their whole audience was a few shepherds who didn’t know one note from another. The Heavenly Father sure doesn’t do things the way we would, does He? But then, angels know that. Angels live with Him in glory. They know things we do not.

Imagine how the shepherds must have felt. A night like all the other nights they’d worked out there in the pitch blackness, only to have the landscape light up like noonday when an angel appeared and stood about 20 feet out there in midair. Did they wonder, “Why us? Why this announcement to a few lowly shepherds with no theological degrees or religious vocations? We’ve had no preparation for this and we’re not sure anyone will believe our report. Couldn’t the Lord have found better recipients for this announcement, a better welcoming committee for His Son, more reliable witnesses for this story?”