12/24/61

Scripture: Luke 2: 8-20.

We have referred repeatedly this month to a section of the Statement of Faith adopted more than two years ago by the General Synod of the United Church of Christ. Some of its phrases go like this: "We believe in God --- In Jesus Christ --- he comes to us." That is essentially the meaning of Christmas -- Immanuel -- "God with us." In a remarkable, unique sense, God comes to us in the person of Jesus.

Christmas is a season for telling stories. And what story can be more wonderful --- I mean literally "full of wonder" -- than the story of Christ’s advent into the world as Jesus was born in Bethlehem? I have read it in its beautiful simplicity from the book of Luke this morning. Now I should like to re-tell it somewhat as Lew Wallace told it in the story "Ben Hur."

A mile and a half, or it may be two miles, southeast of Bethlehem, there is a plain that is separated from the town by a swell of the mountain. At the side of plain farthest from town, and close to the shelter of a cliff, there was an old sheep building. It was an extensive structure, so old that the building had lost its roof and was almost demolished. But the enclosure to it remained intact. And this was more important to the sheep herders who led their flocks here for safety at night than was the old house itself.

There were six of these men, plus a watchman. When their sheep were settled for the night, they gathered in a group around the fire -- some sitting down and some lying prone on the ground. They rested and they talked -- mostly about their sheep. One by one, they drew drowsy and went off to sleep, each one where he was. They were used to sleeping on the hard earth and to resting within easy ear-shot of their flocks.

The night was clear, like most of the winter nights in that hill country. The air was crisp; and the sky sparkled with stars. There was no wind. The atmosphere was so pure and so still that the silence seemed like a holy hush. One could easily imagine that heaven was about to whisper some good thing to the listening earth.

Hugging his mantle close to him, the night watchman walked back and forth by the gate. At times he stopped and listened attentively to some slight stirring among the sleeping sheep, or to the distant cry of a jackal in the hills. Midnight seemed slow in coming to him; but at last it came. His watch was over, and he moved toward the fire and a chance to sleep the dreamless sleep with which labor blesses its weary children. But before he lay down, a light seemed to surround him like soft white moonlight. He waited with baited breath. The light increased; more things became visible; he could see nearly the whole field and all that it sheltered. He felt a shiver of fear and wonder as the light became such a splendor that he could no longer be sure he saw the stars. Suddenly terrified, he gave the alarm: "Awake! Awake!"

Up sprang the sheep dogs. The sheep of the herd ran together as they always did when alarmed. The men started up to their feet, their weapons in hand. As if with one voice they asked, "What is it?" "See!" said the watchman, "the sky is on fire!"

The light became so bright that they involuntarily covered their eyes and dropped to their knees. Then they fell upon their faces as if blinded by the light and their own fearfulness. They felt that they would die; had not a voice said to them: "Do not be afraid!" And they listened.

"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 Savior, 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."

The voice, sweeter and more soothing and assured than any human voice they knew, filled their being with confidence. They rose to their knees and looked up in adoration into the sky where a white figure appeared to them. It had the appearance of a person with wings folded about it. A star shown brilliantly and steadily above its forehead. Its hands stretched toward them as if in blessing; its face was serene and beautiful.

The herald did not speak again; its good tidings were all told; and yet it stayed a while. Then the light, of which he seemed the center, turned roseate and pulsing like brilliant northern lights on one of our winter nights. As far as the shepherds could see, there was a flashing, a coming and going of radiant forms; and voices of a whole multitude chanted in unison, "Glory to God in the highest; and on earth peace, good will toward men." Not once, but many times, the praise.

The herald raised his eyes as if seeking approval by One afar off; his wings stirred effortlessly and majestically; lightly he floated out of view, taking the light with him. Long after he was gone the music of the sky seemed still to float down, mellowed by distance: "Glory to God in the highest; and on earth, peace, good will toward men."

The shepherds began talking to one another in eager awe. Someone said, "Come, let us take a wee ewe lamb from the fold, and go over the hill yonder to Bethlehem, and see this thing which has come to pass. The priests and the learned doctors have been for a long time looking for the Christ. Now he is born, and the Lord has given us a sign by which to know him. Let us go and worship him."

With eager steps, they started off under the stars that shone so brightly again, coming shortly to the sleeping village. They passed the Inn and came to the stable where they saw a light. There they found Joseph of Nazareth, and Mary, and the child, asleep on the sweet-smelling hay. There they worshipped him, leaving their wee ewe lamb, without a spot or blemish, as their offering. And they returned over the hills to their flocks, believing anew the words of their prophets: "For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given. And the government shall be upon His shoulders; and of the increase of His kingdom there shall be no end. And his name shall be called, ‘Wonderful counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father; the Prince of Peace."

Well, that is the old story. And it is as new as we will let it be.

Bill Adams has told a Christmas story which compares his Christmas day as a boy with Christmas about 1945. As a boy, he remembered vividly the coming of carolers, young and old; the opening of gifts in a parlor that was used only on special occasions; the extra food for needy folk and the children’s belief that the animals talk on Christmas eve. As a man he hears a plane drawing overhead with lights flashing from its wing tips. He sees the beacon flashing across the sky from the airport. But a single candle in the window at Christmas seems to remind him that, "Things do not change unless you let them change -- not the things that count, the lovely things."

And there is so much that is lovely at Christmas. Some of it is the coming and going of people whom you love. One of the exciting inquiries is, "Where are you going this Christmas?" Perhaps it is to see, and be with, the family. Possibly it is some special trip. The question calls to mind the customary Christmas rush out of large cities, the packed planes and buses and trains, the crammed cars that run across the country and speed through space to a vast variety of homes and holiday resorts.

And it is good that aching legs and befuddled brains have a holiday respite. It is good that someone who has worked the year round in a busy office or factory has a chance to go home. It is fine for the student or the soldier to have a "change of air" from the disciplined routine.

It is also good that the trip which you take at Christmas time be one that visits holy places and celestial sights! Why not let your Christmas travel include an imaginary trip to Bethlehem. You can fly by jet, or walk it like the shepherds. The invitation still stands: "Come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem." Therefore with the wise sages, and the wondering shepherds, we do well to say: "Let us go now even unto Bethlehem and see this thing which is come to pass."

Of course the Palestinian Bethlehem still stands today as it did many yesterdays ago. It is in country that is rolling with olives, figs, pomegranates and vines growing on terraced slopes. There is pasturage on the slopes of hills, and fields where the grain grows. From a height, one can see the Dead Sea and the distant mountains of Moab. Some six or so miles away to the North stands the city of Jerusalem.

Bethlehem is a tiny, and outwardly unimportant little town of about 800 souls, when compared to the city. Yet it remains, throughout history, the place of Jesus’ birth. As a matter of record, it was also the setting of much that was memorable in history as well, before the birth of Jesus.

"Let us now go even unto Bethlehem." Bethlehem is the "House of Bread." Scholars tell us that this is what the name means. This name, House of Bread, suggests a great deal to the imagination. When we see it in Scriptures for the first time, the bread is the bread of sorrow. We think of an old man standing heartbroken near the thoroughfare that leads into the tiny town. Close by is the fresh, new grave of the beautiful woman whom he has loved from his youth. She had been his wife for years and had borne him many sons. Indeed, she died giving birth to the youngest, Benjamin.

Her love had done much to straighten out his twisted nature and to soften his arrogance; to illumine his way through life and to keep him close to his God. Jacob would sorely miss his Rachel.

If any there be who know sorrow at this season of the year, let us take our anguish "and go now even unto Bethlehem." For there in Bethlehem is one who knows sorrow like unto our own, and who brings healing of heart.

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But Bethlehem is also the House of the Bread of Love. To this tiny town there came a young widow from a foreign land. Her name was Ruth. It was here in this neighborhood that she met Boaz who saw her, wooed and won her. Not only was her life crowned with the love of a good husband. She had been a devoted and loving soul in her own way. When her mother-in-law, Naomi, had decided to return to this her native place, she advised her two daughters-in-law to stay among their own people. One of them did. But Ruth’s love for Naomi became classic in the words: "Entreat me not to leave thee, nor to return from following after thee; for whither thou goest I will go, and where thou logest, I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God." [Ruth 1: 16].

In those lovely words, Ruth expressed her affection for Naomi. In loving loyalty she became the wife of Boaz. And from the love of their union descended the line that was to include King David, and later, the Babe of Bethlehem. The tiny town still tells all who have ears to hear the love story of God and man.

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Again, Bethlehem is the House of the Bread of joy and courage. David, the shepherd-king, was born here to gladden the heart of his father, Jesse. The joy of David’s appearance is heightened by his courage and that which he inspired in others. David had many an adventure, in conflict with King Saul’s enemies and in conflict with the mad king himself. One of the most cherished of Old Testament stories is that of David and his little band, practically surrounded by the mighty army of King Saul. Tired and thirsty, David was heard to mutter, "O that one would give me a drink of water from the well of Bethlehem."

Three brave men heard him, made their way through the enemy lines at night, got a vessel of water from Bethlehem’s well, and brought it back through enemy lines to David. David was so stirred by their devotion that he could not drink the precious water. In grateful recognition of their courage, he poured the water upon the earth as a special libation or offering.

Bethlehem is the House of the Bread of joy and courage.

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Still further, it is the House of the Bread of Life. And we find that life when we travel with the shepherds and with the wise men of old going to Bethlehem to see what it is like for the Good God to be in human form.

There is life that can surmount and overcome the evils which beset men in those times, and plague us in ours. The evils may be inescapable, but "be of good cheer; I have overcome the world" saith the one who was born in Bethlehem. [John 16: 33].

"In him was life and the life was the light of men." [John 1: 4].

Do you know this verse from Chesterton’s "The House of Christmas"?

To an open house in the evening

Home shall all men come,

To an older place than Eden

And a taller town than Rome.

To the end of the way of the wandering star,

To the things that cannot be and that are,

To the place where God was homeless

And all men are at home.

"Let us go now even unto Bethlehem" -- not alone to stop, look, and listen, nor to speak and sing only; but to eat and live!

The Jesus whom we find there is still our best intimation of what God is and wants us to be.

A father came home one day to find his little daughter on the floor with paper and paints. "What are you doing, dear?" asked the father. "I’m painting a picture of God," she answered. "But sweetheart," he insisted, "you can’t paint a picture of God. No one has seen God." And she replied in utmost confidence: "They’ll see him when I get through."

Probably no one has ever put it better than the apostle Paul: men see "the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." [II Corinthians 4: 6].

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Delivered in Wisconsin Rapids, December 24, 1961.