Hope is Born. Luke 2:1-14. 12/24/24.

Hope is Born

Luke 2:1-14

December 24, 2024

Rev. Dr. Rhonda Blevins

And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed. (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.) And all went to be taxed, everyone into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child. And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

______

She brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes,
and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

Tonight, you see before you a manger. Now, we don’t know if this is what the “real” manger looked like—the one baby Jesus rested in on the night he was born. A manger was simply a feeding trough for animals, often hewn out of stone. But tonight, I invite you to engage your imagination and let the manger before you take you back to that night long ago to a little town called Bethlehem, to a stable, where Mary would deliver her firstborn son with Joseph by her side. Do you have the image in your mind?

And as you see this nativity in your mind, I invite you to consider what most informs the image, whether Christmas cards or ornaments, nativity displays, movies or television.

I want to suggest that most of the depictions we have seen of the nativity throughout our lives have been whitewashed, cleaned up, “holyfied.” There’s nothing wrong with that, but tonight, I want you to hold the “cleaned up” image of the nativity alongside the cold, hard truth about the circumstances surrounding Jesus’ birth.

First, for the practical realities of Jesus’ birth.

Let’s begin first with the setting. Let me ask the mothers here tonight: how many of you chose to give birth in a barn? How about a cave? Not too many of you! The reason most women don’t mention barns or caves in their birth plans is that it would be an awful setting in which to give birth! It would be dirty, smelly, and not exactly sanitary. A crib made of cold, hard stone for a modern birth? Tragic.

Here's another thing we don’t think about: Mary gave birth in a public, shared space with animals and strangers nearby. It’s hard to think of a more vulnerable setting.

Mary didn’t have an OB-GYN on her payroll, nor was there likely a midwife or anyone with training to attend the birth of her firstborn child. Childbirth in the first century was incredibly dangerous with high mortality rates for both mother and child.

Finally, underneath all these harsh realities was their poverty. Had Joseph and Mary had the means, they could have demanded better accommodations. Their poverty rendered them powerless in this most vulnerable moment, relying on the kindness of strangers and forces beyond their control.

You see, in pop culture, we’ve imagined the setting for Jesus’ birth, the stable, as some warm and cozy “cabin in the woods.” The reality? It was awful for Mary. It was awful for Joseph. That Jesus and Mary survived this ordeal—that’s the first Christmas miracle!

In addition to the harsh practical realities surrounding Jesus’ birth, the cultural and pollical realities were perhaps even worse.

First of all, it wasn’t a peaceful time. Jesus was born under foreign occupation—the Roman Empire controlled Israel with an iron fist. Mary and Joseph had to travel to Bethlehem because of a census ordered by Caesar, a foreign king. This wasn’t just about counting people; it was about making sure Rome could tax them and keep them under control. Imagine being forced to leave your home, pregnant, just to satisfy the demands of a government that doesn’t care about you.

And then, not long after Jesus was born, King Herod (Caesar’s patsy)—a man so paranoid about losing power that he murdered members of his own family—ordered the slaughter of baby boys in Bethlehem. This wasn’t some far-off threat. It was real, and it forced Mary and Joseph to grab their child and flee to Egypt as refugees. Think about that: the Savior of the world started His life as a political refugee.

Even the shepherds—those humble witnesses of Jesus’ birth—tell us something important. In those days, shepherds were on the fringes of society. They weren’t respected or trusted. But they were the ones the angels appeared to first, not kings or religious leaders. It’s almost like God was saying, “This good news is for everyone, not just the powerful or perfect.” The birth of this peasant—this was the complete opposite of what the Jews expected of the one who would be their “Messiah.”

So, when we think about the world Jesus was born into, it wasn’t shiny or perfect. It was It was hard. It was unfair. It was messy. And yet, that’s where God chose to step in—right into the middle of it all.

God is still stepping into the middle of the muck and mire today.

This year has been such a hard year for so many in our community. In other years, any talk of “muck and mire” might be figurative. For our community, the “muck and mire” has been quite literal. So many people have lost so much.

In my sermon two days ago, I made the case that “God is here”—living and dwelling among us. After the sermon, someone who has suffered greatly because of the storms pulled me aside and offered their own commentary to my insistence that “God is here” saying something like, “If God is here, then why the heck isn’t he showing up?”

I don’t think that person was looking for an answer from me in that moment, rather more an acknowledgement of the suffering. But maybe someone here tonight is looking for an answer to the question, “If God is here, then why the heck isn’t he showing up?”

So, here’s my best shot:

God is showing up, but sometimes we can’t see God because we expect God’s arrival to be something entirely different than the way God shows up in our world and in first century Israel.

The Jews were looking for a king, someone born into wealth and prestige. Instead, they got a peasant born in a barn.

Sometimes we look for God in quick fixes to life’s problems, sunny days instead of ravaging storms, and babies born exactly according to birth plans.

But the God I know shows up not despite the muck and the mire, but precisely THROUGH the muck and the mire.

Faith is not some kind of vaccine that inoculates us from hardship and trial. Faith is what gets us through life’s hardships and trials. And I want to suggest that God does show up in the midst of our hardship and trials:

·         God shows up through friends and family who show up for us.

·         God shows up in the strength and resilience we find within—strength we didn’t know we had!

·         God shows up through small kindnesses of neighbors and strangers.

·         God shows up in everything that sustains us—air and sunshine and food.

In all these things (and so much more), God shows up. It’s just that we’re often looking for God to show up some other way. Just like the Jews were looking for a king but instead got a peasant baby in a manger.

Here’s the thing: because Christ came in the form of a peasant baby in a manger in a dirty stable in a politically fraught time, we know that God is unafraid to show up into our muck and our mire today.

So, friend, whatever you’re going through, whether sorrow from the past or fear for your tomorrow, the promise of Christmas is a promise of hope—hope that whatever this world may hurl at us, we are not alone.

Emmanuel—God with us—yesterday, today, and in every tomorrow that comes our way.

Tonight, right here, right now, hope is born! Hope is born! Hope is born!