First Sunday after Christmas

St. Luke 2:22–40

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

One little Christmas symbol that’s not too flashy, but you see it just about everywhere, is holly. Those rich green leaves and bright red berries embellish everything from plates to greeting cards to fireplace mantles. Maybe you noticed, it adorns the cross on one of our new Christmas banners. But did you know the meaning behind holly as a Christmas symbol? For people in England and Germany at this time of year, the green leaves, like other evergreens, were a reminder of eternal life. The prickly leaves were also reminiscent of the crown of thorns. And the red berries that ripened in late fall or early winter, and were still there at Christmastime, served as a symbol for Christ’s blood. A little English Christmas Carol, called The Holly and the Ivy, contemplates the plant’s connection to the festival:

The holly bears a berry,

As red as any blood,

And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ 

To do poor sinners good…

The holly bears a prickle,

As sharp as any thorn,

And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ

On Christmas day in the morn…

The holly bears a bark,

            As bitter as any gall,

            And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ

            For to redeem us all… (Christmas Poems, p.208–9).

Maybe you thought the cross adorned with holly was just a pretty decoration. But there’s more to it. Maybe you just like the sweet baby Jesus, and don’t want to think of the Man and His cross. But the holly is a reminder of who this Child is and what He was born for. The cross is there, even at Christmas.

We love old Simeon’s Song, the Nunc Dimittis, and well we should. Not only because we sing it after receiving our Lord’s body and blood and at the deathbeds of our loved ones, but also because like Zechariah’s song, the Benedictus, and Mary’s song, the Magnificat, and the Christmas angels’ song, the Gloria in Excelsis, Simeon’s song is also a promise of salvation in the holy Child born in Bethlehem. But with such a beautiful song of salvation, we might be surprised to hear old Simeon’s prophecy following his song. I bet the new parents were surprised when he told Mary what was in store for her Son and for her: opposition, conflict, suffering, and death. 

But Christmas is nothing if not surprising. God becomes a Man! Who would have dreamed such a thing? And then the signs that accompany Jesus are even more surprising. The first sign to recognize Jesus was given by the angels to the Bethlehem shepherds: This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger (Luke 2:12)—a sign of humility if ever there was one. Not the usual sign for a newborn King. But then the second sign is even stranger, given by Simeon to Mary: Behold, this Child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed. Not so much a sign of humility, but a sign of judgment, division, and opposition.

When this Child is grown and begins His public ministry—teaching, preaching, rebuking sins and forgiving sins—He does not meet human expectations. He is not the kind of Savior or King that sinful men really want. He is too demanding and yet He does not fix the world’s troubles. He is too forgiving and yet He will not let you ignore Him (to ignore Him is to reject Him and that means you will be judged guilty by Him). He is praised and worshiped, He is spoken against and lied about. He attracts some and repels others. He causes some to rejoice and He causes others to grind their teeth. 

This Child of Mary, the Savior, Christ the Lord, He causes division. He causes some to fall and some to rise, in Israel and in the whole world. Some people will take offense at Him—they are offended by His Words, they are unimpressed by His work, and they are scandalized by His death. He causes them to stumble and they fall. But some people will love Him—they hang on His every Word, they marvel at His work, and they love His death. He causes them to rise, in faith now and in the body on the Last Day. And this is the chief reason He was sent into the world. The reason this Child was born was to be a Light to lighten the Gentiles and to be the glory of God’s people Israel.

So, Jesus will bring division, some rejecting Him and falling, others trusting in Him and rising. And this division does not come without pain. Simeon tells the new mother that her Son will be a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed. The sword that pierces Mary’s soul is certainly the pain this blessed mother will suffer. Imagine the pain of a mother when she sees her Son spoken against, mocked, and rejected. Then there’s also the pain when He says uncomfortable things, things sinners don’t want to hear, and so she, even His loving mother, is tempted to reject Him. And finally, the pain, the tears, the stab of anguish that feels like it will never end, as she sees Him whipped, crucified, and laid into a tomb. Think of how terrifying it must’ve been to love your Child, and yet know that He’s not completely yours. She won’t be able to protect Him. He came to do the will of His Father in heaven.

But just as Jesus does not belong only to Mary, Mary also represents something bigger than herself. She is a representative of Israel, the people from whom the Savior was to come. And so also, the sword that pierced Mary’s soul is also the sword that pierces Israel and divides the people. The prophet Isaiah saw what the Lord planned for His Servant, the Messiah: It is too light a thing that You should be My Servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to bring back the preserved of Israel; I will make You as a light for the nations, that My salvation may reach to the end of the earth (Is. 49:6). And Simeon echoed that in his song. But Isaiah also proclaimed these words of the promised Savior: He made My mouth like a sharp sword (Is. 49:2). Or as we heard today, He shall strike the earth with the rod of His mouth, and with the breath of His lips He shall kill the wicked (Is. 11:4). And so, Simeon reflected that in his pronouncement.

All of this predicts what Jesus Himself said later about the sword He brings to Israel: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. And a person's enemies will be those of his own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me. And whoever does not take his cross and follow Me is not worthy of Me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for My sake will find it (Matthew 10:34–39). 

The Christmas angels sang “peace on earth,” and they were right. Jesus brings peace to earth from heaven by reconciling us back to God by His blood that forgives our sins. But Jesus is also a divider. He brings a sword and He even divides families. Even Mary and the other blood relatives would have to decide whether they would receive the Savior who had come to bring them God’s peace, or would they rebel against Him and deny His Word. Even Mary had to become a part of her Son’s family. She had to become one of the heavenly Father’s children, the same way everyone else is—by faith in her Son’s Word and in His atoning death. The death of Jesus was the greatest of God’s signs, far greater than the swaddling clothes and manger. The cross of Jesus makes it clear who this Child is and what He came to do. And so His preaching and His death and resurrection will be the center of dispute for the rest of history. You can’t get over or get around Jesus’ Word and Jesus’ cross. And how you take that, determines whether you fall or rise.

That divides people. It divided Israel, and it still divides families today. No one is untouched by this sad reality. A sword pierces our souls also. Christmas brings the cross, and so Christmas brings this sword too. People we love don’t come to church, or things get awkward when discussion turns to religion. No one has it easy with this, and we’ve all thought it would be better if we could just ignore these divisions and pretend like everything is fine. But you’re a Christian, so you can’t. The love of God compels you to care. So pray for your divided loved ones. Be good to them. And confess Christ. In words and deeds, show the new life you have in your Savior. Yes, invite them to church. And then, be there for them, ready, when they need comfort and hope. You are a Christian, so you can share what no one else can give.

And what’s more, dear Christian, the pain and suffering you feel from this piercing sword is just preparing you for the glory that’s coming. The suffering and joy, the cross and crown are joined together for our Lord Jesus Christ, and so they are also joined together for His followers. Jesus said, “Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for My sake and for the Gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life (Mark 10:29–31). Suffer for the sake of Jesus and for the sake of His Gospel, and you will receive a new family now in this time, the holy Church, the family of God. And although being a member of this family will bring with it persecution and pain, you will receive eternal life on the Last Day. So, what kind of suffering can possibly compare with or outweigh the joy of God’s truth and the glory of salvation? None. Be faithful unto death, said Jesus, and I will give you the crown of life, (Rev. 2:10). By suffering as a Christian, you bear the mark of Jesus. So, surely you belong to Him.

Christmas does bring a sword. Like the holly, it has a prickle that can cause pain and sadness. Jesus and His cross bring division: some fall and some rise. But Christmas also gives us the message of forgiveness, peace, and hope. Christmas points us to the cross and resurrection of Jesus where we find these gifts from God. So, when you see the holly, be reminded of your Savior’s great love for you:

        The holly bears a berry,

As red as any blood,

And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ 

To do poor sinners good.

In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.

The Nativity of Our Lord - Christmas Day

Micah 5:2–5

St. John 1:1–18

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

You can’t get much bigger, much grander than the first chapter of John’s Gospel. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. Not only does that imitate the opening line of Genesis—in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth, but John 1 goes back even further, beyond the beginning of creation and time, to when there was only God and nothing else, only the three eternal Persons in one God: the Father, the Spirit, and the Word—the Father’s eternally begotten Son. Then starting from the Trinity, from that grandest of beginnings, then John comes to creation. The Word was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him was not any thing made that was made. In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

            This is a truly epic story, on a higher level than any human myth—beyond the epic poems of Homer, or Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings Trilogy, or any movie that might begin, “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…” We’re dealing with heavy stuff here: Life itself (capital L), the Life who makes all other things live. And the uncreated Light (capital L again), the Light who gives all other light meaning, the Light who cannot be grasped or understood or ever put out. This Word, this Life, this Light, is the Son of the Father, long before He was ever known by the name Jesus.

John’s Gospel takes us soaring higher than the loftiest of man’s philosophies. It strains our little imaginations to get such a bird’s eye view of the universe. John 1 gets about as close as we can get to God’s perspective. And so we hear in this first chapter about Christmas on a cosmic scale: the Word who is God from eternity, the Word who brought all things into being, that Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. This is the biggest, most epic of stories.

But on the other hand, we heard from the prophet Micah, and we got a story with one of the smallest settings. The cosmic story of Christmas zooms in from the perspective of God and the universe down to the little town of Bethlehem. Where John 1 might’ve left us a bit breathless and dizzy, in Bethlehem, everything gets simple and real, like dirt under the fingernails. Bethlehem—the name means, House of Bread. Not House of pastry or House of fine wines or House of exotic spices. House of Bread—can you get more ordinary than that?

Bethlehem, in the region of Ephrathah, humdrum, workaday, stinking with shepherds and dung, too little to be among the clans of Judah. But it’s the city of David, right? That’s got to count for something. It’s David’s hometown, but not his capital. He didn’t stay there when he became king. City of Jesse, is more like it—the place where his son David lived when he was still only a little shepherd boy.

But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for Me One who is to be ruler in Israel, whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days. Ancient days? Try, “He is the One from before the ancient days began.” Ordinary, common, plain, little town of Bethlehem. Even with Micah’s prophecy, I don’t think they were really expecting it when the new King was born and laid in one of their mangers. The Word came there. The eternal Son of the Father, the Maker of the Cosmos, the Life, the Light, He showed up in little Bethlehem.

Why? We dare to ask. It boggles the human mind. But the answer is not so hard to grasp as the question. Because He loves us. He chose to be with us, one with us—common, ordinary humanity, with all our stink, with all our sin. He took us on as we are, not perfect, not grand, not even very nice or good. His love brought Him down to earth, down to our lowly level, even down into the lowliness of our sin and death. His love brought Him down so that His love could bring us up. He became as we are, so that we might become as He is. 

This is the great cosmic Christmas exchange. The whole universe was turned upside-down at Bethlehem: we gifted Him our sin, our filth, our doom, and He gifted us with His Life, His Light, Himself. As one of our Lutheran poets put it:

Thou Christian heart,

Whoe’er thou art,

Be of good cheer and let no sorrow move thee!

For God’s own Child,

In mercy mild,

Joins thee to Him;

How greatly God must love thee! (LSB 372:4)

And not only does He love you, not only is He with you, but also He is FOR you. He’s on your side. * The Word became flesh, and the Word endures forever. No one can snatch the Word made flesh from us. Nothing can steal the joy we have in the Word made flesh. 

In that sense, Christmas is eternal. Long after the decorations are taken down and the music is turned off and the crowds at the mall are gone, the Word they still shall let remain. This world may not care for it. They may even hate it. They may think as little about it as a little, nothing, one-stop-sign town like Bethlehem. But none of that matters. Because He is the Word that endures forever. He is that blessed Word that created all that is. He is that blessed Word that came to His own, and His own people did not receive him. Still, He came to save this miserable human race. He is that blessed Word made flesh, sent from God to reconcile us back by His own blood and to speak us back into fellowship with Him. * And so, to all who did receive this Word made flesh, who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but born of God. In your Baptism, you were made a part of this grand, epic story. And nothing can change that.

And finally, this all-creating, cosmically powerful Word that was born a man in Bethlehem, He brings a little Bethlehem to you. He has built His Bethlehem, His House of Bread right here. And it’s a beautiful church. But as beautiful as it is, it’s still a bit ordinary. It’s a country church, by no means the greatest or grandest in the world or in the Missouri Synod for that matter. Nevertheless, this is Bethlehem for you here: a real House of Bread, where you eat and drink, not common food for common earthly life, but in this Bethlehem, you eat and drink the eternal Word’s very body and blood. So, you are given His very Life and Light.

What an epic Christmas story! And it’s not “once upon a time…” It’s happening right now. Word of the Father THERE (at the altar) in flesh appearing! O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord!

Merry Christmas!

In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.

*…* Section based on Rev. Jason Braaten (Christmas 2017)

The Nativity of Our Lord - Christmas Eve

St. Luke 2:1–7

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. At least, all the civilized world, all the territory surrounding the Mediterranean Sea, held by the power of the Roman legions, and ruled over by the first Emperor of Rome: Caesar Augustus. Basically his name means “Magnificent King,” and he thought he would brag a bit about how big his dominion was. So, he sent out a decree that everyone should be registered. He wanted to count heads. He wanted to learn just how big his kingdom was and how best to control it. 

But Caesar was a bit like Caiaphas, who would be high priest later when Jesus was arrested and crucified, who would prophesy, without knowing it, that it is better that one man should die for the people, not that the whole nation should perish (John 11:50). So also, Caesar Augustus, without knowing it, was really fulfilling the Scriptures, as all things must. God is not only at work at the specific, obvious moments described in the Bible. God is always at work, hidden but directing the course of human history. Caesar didn’t know it, but he was merely playing the part that God had for him in the great drama known as the salvation story.

So, when Caesar’s officials went out and recorded all the people of the known world, they eventually recorded something like this entry: Registered three: Joseph, son of Heli of Bethlehem of the tribe of Judah, betrothed to Mary; one child—Jesus. There inscribed in ink, on the list with all the other men, women, and children, was the name given to a baby boy by Joseph, who had been directed by an angel—the name, Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins (Matt. 1:21).

Even in infancy, the Christ was obeying His true Father and was reconciling the world in His newly assumed flesh. There on Caesar’s list, the Son of God was numbered with the children of Israel, numbered with the descendants of Adam and Eve—the perfect Son of God numbered with the transgressors. This is the Good News of Christmas. Our God became a Man—He was numbered as one of us. And it IS good news because if God is Man, then Man cannot be killed. Man cannot be lost. Man cannot be left to decay and to the destruction of death and hell. If God is Man then God must love Man, and Man must be saved as he is loved by God. If God is Man, then there is hope for us all.

And even more glorious than Him being numbered with the transgressors is that the transgressors are numbered with Him who knew no sin. Jesus became like us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God (2 Corinthians 5:21). Though Jesus was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that you by His poverty might become rich (2 Corinthians 8:9). Caesar thought he was numbering his subjects, but really, the heavenly Father was numbering His children. Caesar thought he would bring glory to himself and to his Empire (and from a human perspective, the names of those Judean peasants have mostly been lost to the dustbin of history, while the names of illustrious Caesar and Rome live on). But at least three of the names of those Judean peasants have been preserved for the ages: Joseph, Mary, and Jesus, because in truth, God has brought His glory to all people.

Your name is also recorded, not on Caesar’s list, but in the Lamb’s Book of Life. You that are baptized in His name and cling to Christ by faith, you are registered among the citizens of heaven. The Holy Spirit has made you a dwelling place for God. The Son has counted you as His brothers and sisters. And Christ’s Father is your Father.

In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.

Most of this is from Rev. Mark Lovett, Christmas Eve 2017.