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Sermons
Jesus Is Not Home
Isaiah 9:2-7; Luke 2:1-20
The Downtown Presbyterian Church
Rev. Kenneth M. Locke
“And she gave birth to her firstborn
son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, for there
was no room for them in the inn.”
How quickly, how economically the birth of Jesus is announced.
We’ve been well prepared for this moment. Luke has already told us in great detail
about Zechariah and Elizabeth having no children. Then when Zechariah was doing his priestly
duty the angel Gabriel spoke to him and told him he would have a son named John
who would prepare the way for the savior.
We know how the angel appeared to Mary and told her she would have a son
and he was to be named Jesus. We know
how Mary and Elizabeth visited each other during their pregnancies.
We know this elaborate setting of an emperor ordering
new taxes, and exactly when it was ordered and how everyone had to go back to
their hometown. And then finally we come
to the birth notice itself. “She
wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger.”
After all this heavenly intervention and emperors
making decrees and long journeys, does the birth of Jesus leave you a little
deflated? Is it a little anti-climactic?
And what about this business of
angels and shepherds? Do the angels come and sing to baby
Jesus? Noooo,
the shepherds come and visit. Of course
shepherds held an honored place in the history of
Does it seem like Luke is trivializing
Jesus’ birth just a bit? After all
this build-up of miracle pregnancies and heavenly messengers, is Luke
downplaying the birth?
Or maybe Luke is telling us the birth of
Jesus is important, yes. Jesus is born
in humble surroundings like the people he came to save. We need to recognize the truth in that, Luke
tells us, but then it is time to move on.
But moving on is not what we do, is
it? We enjoy sitting there, camping in
the barn, looking at the hay in the manger, drawn to the scene in all its
romanticized glory. Smelling
the hay, hearing the animals, gazing at the child. “The cattle are lowing the poor babe
awakes. But little Lord Jesus no crying
he makes.”
The problem is we’re the only ones
standing in the barn. The manger is
empty. Because you
know what? Jesus isn’t
there.
In the neighborhood where we used to live
my wife and I would take our dog walking and we always walked past one
particular house. It was an interesting
house because right above the front door someone had strung lights spelling out
the word “Jesus.” Now this
wasn’t last week, I’m talking about the middle of last summer
we’d walk by at night and see these lights lit-up, spelling out “Jesus.”
It became something we’d look for
and comment on. Sometimes “Jesus”
was lit up and we’d say, “Oh look, Jesus is home.” Other nights the lights would be off and
we’d say, “Oh no, Jesus isn’t home. Where do you think he is?” Then one week the house went up for
sale. “Oh no! Is Jesus moving? Where will he be?”
Wouldn’t it be nice if we could pin
Jesus to a particular place? But we
can’t! Jesus isn’t in the manger, he doesn’t have a house with his name in
lights. We can’t knock on the door
and explain the angels sent us and behold, we want to see this thing that has
come to pass.
We can’t do that because Jesus
isn’t there. Jesus is here;
he is with us. The dwelling of God is
among mortals. No point leaving
everything on a hillside and going looking for him. He is with us, no more than a prayer
away.
If Jesus had stayed a
baby in the manger, making Christmas the highpoint of our faith, if Jesus could
be found in a particular place, that would be sad.
But Jesus grew, becoming an adult, facing
all the issues and concerns we face.
Jesus knows about anger and sorrow, fear and anxiety. Jesus knows what we feel when we feel that
drive for power, succeed at all costs, uncertainty about the future.
In the cross Jesus redeems us, canceling
our sin. In his resurrection Jesus is
offering us new life. And by the power
of the Holy Spirit Jesus is with us now.
The light of the world is lighting our path, the great shepherd is
guiding us when we stumble. As one of
our homeless brothers reminded me last week – Jesus is like scotch
tape. You can’t see him, but
he’s always on the job.
The good news of our faith is a savior was
born for us, and he was laid in a manger.
The really good news is he’s not
there. He’s not at
“home.” Jesus is in your
home, he’s in my home, he’s with us. This is the joy of Christmas. Thanks be to
God. Amen.
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