Scripture: Luke 2:1-20
“Once upon a time…” This is how every fairy tale begins, right? And when we hear the words, “Once upon a time,” we know that the story we’re about to hear isn’t real. Sure it may contain “timeless truths” for living, it may be filled with practical wisdom and “life lessons,” but when we hear “once upon a time,” we know that the events that are about to be narrated didn’t really happen.
We have a nice modern-day equivalent of “Once upon a time,” by the way. It goes like this: “a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.”
I point this out because, please notice the stark contrast between “once upon a time” or “a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away,” and tonight’s scripture: In verse 1, Luke writes, “In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered.” This wasn’t a registration to vote—as we might think of it today—or even a registration to be drafted into the military; it was a registration for the purposes of taxation. It was like a census, and many Bible translations call it that. But Luke gives us even more specific information in verse 3: “This was the first registration when Quirinius was governor of Syria.”
Not the second registration, the first one… As if the author, Luke, knows that at least some people reading his gospel were alive back then and would remember the second registration. But this was the first one, not the second.
Of course, today, no one cares whether it’s the first or second registration—but it mattered to Luke… because the truth mattered to Luke. He wants us to know that the events he’s describing took place in the real world—at a very specific time and place in history, involving real human beings, about whom historians today can even tell us a few things.
Luke wants us to know that he’s telling us the truth. Not merely “timeless truths for living,” or “practical life lessons,” but actual historical facts. Indeed, at the beginning of his gospel, in chapter 1, Luke describes to his friend Theophilus his motivation for writing the gospel in the first place. He says that he has “carefully investigated everything from the very first, to write to you in an orderly sequence… so that you may know the certainty of the things about which you have been instructed.” 1
I point this out for the benefit of people who’ve bought into a lie that our culture tells about holy scripture. Years ago, for instance, in an episode of the West Wing, the show about a fictitious president, President Bartlett. Bartlett was a Christian of the Roman Catholic variety, but like too many modern-day Christians, unfortunately, he wasn’t so sure about the truthfulness of the Bible. He was having an argument with a fellow politician, who described himself as an atheist. And this politician said that he used to be a believer, but then he read the Bible, and he found too many things in there that he just couldn’t believe.
And President Bartlett said, “Yeah, but you can’t take it literally.”
To which I say, we can take literally that which the authors of scripture intend for us to take literally! By all means, there’s plenty of poetry in scripture, for instance; we don’t take that literally, of course. And there are plenty of parables; we don’t take those literally.But Luke is clearly not writing poetry or parables here; he is writing real history. Which is why he has grounded his narrative in verifiable historical events.
My point is this: If what Luke is describing here really happened to actual historical people, then you’ve got to admit: Our lives cannot remain unaffected. If what he’s describing really happened, he is forcing us to make a choice: We must respond by saying, “I don’t believe these events took place, therefore I reject Christianity.” Or “Since I believe these events happened to these real historical people living in the same world in which I live, my life will never be the same! This must change everything.” Too many people, including many people who call themselves Christians, float somewhere between those poles. “Sure, I’m a Christian, but you can’t take all that stuff literally.” Or worse… They say, “I believe the Bible! “God said it, I believe it, end of discussion.” And then live most of our lives as if it just doesn’t matter… They live their lives paying little mind to what God has revealed to us in his Word and how it applies to their lives.
If that describes you, I don’t mind making you feel uncomfortable: Either Luke is telling the truth or he’s lying. But if he’s telling the truth, that changes everything.
But since we, the Toccoa First Methodist Church, believe that Luke is telling the truth, how exactly should our lives change? What difference should it make?
To begin to answer this, let’s remind ourselves of a promise that God makes in Micah chapter 5, verse 2:
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. 2
Bible scholars of the first century rightly interpreted this verse to mean that Bethlehem was the place where the Messiah was to be born. Remember in Matthew chapter 2 when the Wise Men come to Jerusalem looking for the newborn king of the Jews, the scholars tell them, “Well, he’s not here. Because the Messiah is to be born in Bethlehem, about six miles south of here.”
The Messiah is to be born in Bethlehem. But at the beginning of today’s scripture, from a merely human perspective, we have one small problem… The Messiah’s mother, Mary, was going to give birth to her child very soon, and she happens to be 80 miles north of Bethlehem in Nazareth.
So if you’re God, how will you get Mary and her husband from point A to point B?
Here’s one solution: You will put it in the mind of the most powerful ruler the world had ever seen—Caesar Augustus—to take a census of his great empire—and require that everyone return to their ancestral homeland to be registered for the census. And that means forcing Mary and Joseph to return to Bethlehem, Joseph’s homeland. And voila! Problem solved. Crisis averted. The Messiah was born in Bethlehem, just as the Old Testament predicted.
One pastor points out that God doesn’t do things “efficiently.” Moving hundreds of thousands of people around an empire like pieces on a chessboard—all for the sake of moving two of the world’s more “insignificant” people—Mary and Joseph—from Nazareth to Bethlehem, so that prophecy can be fulfilled, isn’t “efficient.”
But it is impressive. It’s almost like God is showing off—the extravagant way he sometimes gets things done!
But consider this: From a strictly human point of view, there appears to be an insurmountable obstacle—how will Mary and Joseph get from Nazareth to Bethlehem when she’s probably eight months pregnant?
But from God’s point of view…? No problem at all. God can make happen whatever he wants to make happen. It’s no problem for our all-powerful, sovereign God! It’s not hard for God. There is simply no obstacle that can or will ever prevent God from accomplishing his good purposes in the world.
And get this: There’s simply no obstacle that can or will prevent God from accomplishing his good purposes in your life!
Which isn’t to say, by the way, that what’s easy for God won’t often be incredibly difficult for us! Did you hear that? Just because it’s easy for God, doesn’t mean it won’t be hard for us.
For years my wife has had a Facebook group called “Journey to Bethlehem,” in which she invites her friends to walk or, in my case, to jog those 80 miles or so over the four weeks of Advent. And it’s a challenge for most of us non-marathon runners to get it finished before Christmas! It’s a lot of walking; and we’re not told, by the way, that Mary and Joseph rode on a donkey or horse. Mary may have. But even if she did, the journey was still fraught with peril, not to mention a lot of discomfort! Many women here know know from personal experience that even traveling by car late in pregnancies can be difficult and risky.
But that’s what Mary did.
No sugar-coating it: It’s often difficult to be faithful to God… It’s often costly to be a disciple of our Lord Jesus Christ…
We had our staff Christmas party last week, and I was talking to Rich—our new youth pastor. I learned that he was in the army for three years after high school. He said it was the hardest thing he’d ever done… Yet, he said, if God hadn’t called him into ministry, he would have gladly re-enlisted.
I asked him to describe one legacy of his time in the army that continues to influence him today. And he said, “The idea that you make sacrifices for a cause greater than yourself.”
And yes, that’s exactly right… That’s what we are called to do as Christians, isn’t it? That’s why Paul says in 2 Timothy chapter 2 to be a “good soldier of Christ Jesus.” 3 A good soldier surrenders his own will to the will of his commanding officer. He submits himself to someone else for the sake of a higher cause.
And that’s what Christ commands us to do.
But Rich also said something else interesting. He said, “Being in the army was the hardest thing I’ve ever done… but I loved it.”
I feel like one of my main tasks as a preacher of the gospel is to convince everyone that being a Christian is a little like that: in many ways it’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do, but you’ll love it. Because here’s the truth: it’s only by loving and trusting Christ, and surrendering our lives to Christ, and putting him first, and seeking to please and serve him above everyone and every other thing else in life that we’ll find lasting happiness and joy. To be able to say, “Christ is my life. He is my reason for getting out of bed in the morning. I owe everything to him, therefore I’m going to live for him”… it’s only in saying that and doing that that any of us can know true and lasting happiness and joy.
Think of the joy that Mary and Joseph experienced! Luke describes it. Listen to these words in verses 16 to 20:
And they [the shepherds] went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger. And when they saw it, they made known the saying that had been told them concerning this child. And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart. And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.
I love those words about Mary: She “treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.”
If there is treasure waiting on the other side of every trial I face in life, man, trust me: I can put up with anything. I can endure any hard stuff that comes my way for the sake of my treasure. And so can you!
There’s a remarkable little verse in Hebrews chapter 10. It’s verse 34. The author of Hebrews is writing to a group of Christians who are enduring intense persecution because of their faith in Christ. Listen to what he says: “You suffered along with those who were thrown into jail, and when all you owned was taken from you, you accepted it with joy. You knew there were better things waiting for you that will last forever.”
There’s that word: joy. “You accepted it with joy.” Accepted what with joy? Accepted that “all you owned was taken from you.” Whew! Nothing that bad has happened to me, but if joy is available even when something that bad happens, then you better believe I’ll take it! And that’s a kind of joy we can have through a living, personal relationship with God through his Son Jesus!
These shepherds “abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night,” 4 experienced joy when they heard the angels’ amazing proclamation: “unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior”—not a surgeon, not a scientist, not a self-help guru… but a Savior—so that all of us who turn to Christ in faith will find that our sins are forgiven, and we have eternal life.
I began this sermon talking about how easily God can do miraculous things like get the most powerful ruler the world had ever seen, Caesar Augustus, to call for a census, which would in turn bring two “nobodies” from the world’s perspective, Mary and Joseph, from Nazareth to Bethlehem. That’s not hard for God!
Or—if you remember Matthew’s version of the Christmas story features the magi, the Wise Men. We talk about moving heaven and earth, Matthew describes how God literally did something like that—he moved the stars in the heavens—in order to get a few lost sinners to travel 700 miles to west to Bethlehem, so they could meet the newborn king Jesus and be saved. That’s not hard for God!
It’s not hard for this same God in Christ to make a paralytic walk, or a blind man to see, or a hemorrhaging woman to stop bleeding. It’s not even hard for for this same God to raise someone back to life. That’s not hard.
But the forgiveness of sins—this thing we take so lightly, this thing we take for granted—this is, from God’s perspective, incredibly hard.
Was it not hard when Jesus, God in the flesh, sweated drops of blood in the Garden of Gethsemane and prayed for his Father, if possible, to take away this cup of God’s wrath that he would have to drink down to the dregs? Was it not hard when Jesus, God in the flesh, endured the beatings, the mockings, the crown of thorns thrust on his head, the nails driven through his hands and feet? Was it not hard when Jesus, God in the flesh, experienced the God-forsaken death, the suffering, the separation from his Father, the hell, that we deserved to suffer on the cross? Was it not hard when Jesus, God in the flesh, cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
This is what forgiveness of our sins cost God. God paid for forgiveness with the blood of his Son Jesus. Which is to say, because God is a Trinity, God himself paid for it with his own blood on the cross. That’s the only way forgiveness was possible—that God could somehow become one of us; live the life of perfect obedience to the Father that we were unable to live; die the death that we deserved to die; and suffer the hell that we deserved to suffer. In our place. Because God loved us that much.
God purchased our forgiveness with the shedding of his own blood. And how does God have blood in the first place? How does he have a body that can bear the punishment for our sin? How does God become a perfect substitute for us human beings in the first place? How does God die in order save us?
By becoming human.
And that is the meaning of Christmas. That is what we are celebrating this evening.
And maybe some of you are saying, “Pastor Brent, I think you’re confused. You’re talking so much about Jesus dying on the cross. That’s the wrong holiday, you know? This is Christmas, after all… not Good Friday… not Easter Sunday.”
But brothers and sisters, if you’re having those thoughts, you don’t understand: the meaning of Christmas is Good Friday and Easter Sunday.