The Promise of Shalom: A Child is Born

 December 23, 2001

Introduction

Christmas is steeped in celebration.  Many of the songs we’ve sung this morning mention words like ‘rejoicing’, ‘praise’, and even ‘celebration’.  I was thinking about what celebration is, and I realized that celebration—true celebration—comes after a certain period of struggle.  Farmers celebrate the harvest only after they have struggled against the elements to bring their crops in.  Soldiers celebrate the spoils of war only after the angst of battle.  And a sports team may celebrate a championship once the regular season, playoffs and finals have been completed successfully. 

In the same way, Christmas is celebrated well and truly only after we look at the earthy, grainy details surrounding the birth of Christ.  For celebrating Christmas without lingering in the genuine details is like farmers, soldiers and athletes celebrating before planting, battle or playing…

	Jesus was born in a barn.
	His mother Mary traveled on the back of a donkey for days while 9 months pregnant.
	Joseph and Mary—like any weary, frightened first time parents—argued.
	It is possible that Joseph would have scavenged for food to feed Mary so that she might have the strength to deliver the baby.
	No doctors, nurses, or stringent code of cleanliness.  No monitors, ice chips or family members waiting outside.
	God’s visit to earth took place in an animal shelter where the only place to lay him was a feed trough, where the threat of being stepped on by one of the usual inhabitants was constant.
	The angels told the shepherds that their savior was wrapped in dirty cloth and lying in a stable.

 Whilst lying on scattered hay, in a forgotten barn on the outskirts of Bethlehem (Nowheresville), amidst dung and feed, the God of the universe came to dwell among us.

Present Hope

 Christmas cards depict fairytale scenes of the holy family and their journey to parenthood.  But if for a moment we would look at the Christmas story with an objective eye, we would come face-to-face with a messy mystery that is more blood, and barn, than tinsel, and peace. 

 We live in a time when mystery is something to eliminate.  The information age makes little space for the uncomfortable unknown.  The sadness in our time hastens our pursuit to paint romantic scenes on cards

 The Christmas story is messy mystery because it tells of a holy God becoming flesh in an unholy world.

 If it was the good, safe life God wanted to affirm, he’d have sent his son to be born in some king’s court, in a well decorated, fully equipped royal nursery.  However, that would be like giving a gift to someone they neither wanted, nor needed.   Because as the Bible says, “For God so loved the world that he gave his son…”  Implicit here is that in his loving of the world, there is an awareness of the world.  He knew, as we know, that life here is messy. 

 If we sanitize the Christmas Story—eliminating its earthiness, pain and struggle, we miss the truth of a God who deeply loves us.  The birth of Jesus is the moment God came to dwell in our midst, to join us in our struggle.

 Because therein lies a clue to the mystery.  Had he came as he deserved, in royal clothes surrounded by nobility, he would have remained a distant God.  But what I know of him is that he is a present and involved God.

 Future Plan

 King Ahaz was King of Judah during the time of Isaiah.  Ahaz was facing imminent destruction from their enemies, and Ahaz, like any wise king, was looking for military alliances to wage a defense.  Isaiah came to Ahaz and said, “Ahaz, you’re looking in the wrong place for salvation.  Your hope comes from God.  In him you must trust.  God will send you a sign that he is going to deliver you: a baby will be born…” (Is. 7:1-14)  

 We have been learning and speaking about God’s Shalom vision, during Advent; that coming kingdom of peace, wholeness and restoration that is God’s ultimate end for those who call on him—that future hope.

 Ahaz wanted victory now.  Isaiah spoke of God’s future plan, and present promise.

 This is part of the mystery of the Christmas story.  You see, in the birth of Jesus there is a message of Present hope for a future plan.  Jesus never promised, nor does the Bible tell us that if we believe in Jesus we’ll never have any pain.  In fact, the Bible says that suffering in this world is guaranteed!  But Jesus says that although in this world we will have trouble, he has overcome the world.

 He doesn’t always make things nice, heal our pains, or clean things up here.  His plan is for eternity.  Meanwhile he joins us, understands us, knows the pain we experience.  Why?  Because he has lived it all himself. 

 Had Jesus been born in the manner he deserved, I doubt very much that I would be standing here this morning.  I doubt very much that I would believe that God loves me.  I would certainly doubt his plan for a reconciled eternity.  But as it is, he came to earth in the flesh, in the muck and mire of a stable. 

 He suffered hunger, loneliness, anger, and frustration.  He knew the temptation of sin, and the pain humiliation.  He knew betrayal, and abandonment.  And he knew the sting of death.  And because of that, we can know the God of the universe, his hope and a future of wholeness. 

 This is a mystery, this Christmas story.  There is a puzzle here.  God becoming flesh… God dwelling among us… This Christmas, take a risk in looking past the romantic scenes on the cards.  Allow the mystery of the story to rub and chafe this Christmas; wrestle with it.

 Close your eyes and try to smell the smells of a barn.  Hear the pained breath of a woman in labor.  Hear the cry of a baby as it tests its “never-before-used lungs”[1].  For that is the Lord God Incarnate coming to dwell among us because he loves us and wants to give us hope for our journey, but more than that, he wants to give us glimpse of a glorious future.  A child is born! 

[1] Philip Yancey, The Jesus I Never Knew (Michigan: Zondervan, 1995), p. 45.

 

©2001 by Shaun Dyer

Zion Baptist Church of Kensington

Edmonton, CANADA 

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