A Song in Your Heart
Luke 2:21-39
Brian Lowery, who was on a study tour of Israel back in 2000, reflecting on his time, wrote these words. “For reasons I cannot quite remember (perhaps the guidebooks or the guide himself told us it wasn’t much to get worked up about), I wasn’t excited to visit the birthplace of Christ [while on a study tour of Israel in the summer of 2000]. I recall wishing we could spend our time in Jerusalem, but I didn’t have a choice. If the group was going to Bethlehem, I was, too. We walked through the dusty streets of the town and soon came to the entrance to the Church of the Nativity. We stood in line for what seemed like hours, winding our way downward into a series of caves (though we often have nativity sets of barns and stables, Christ was actually born in a cave).
Once there, I was hushed by the holiness of it all. There were candles lit here, there, and everywhere. Hundreds were on their knees in prayer, scattered about on the cold, damp floor. We made our way to the traditional cave of the birth where we read Matthew’s story once again. Soon we were singing. “O Holy Night,” “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” and “Silent Night.” Right there in a church building that has been ravaged by war and terrorism and today is owned by four different religious groups, we prayed for peace. We offered a continued invitation for shalom. It was one of the more sacred moments of my life.
As we left, I passed by all the pilgrims yet again. Some were from Germany, Poland, or Italy and others from England, Spain, or China. They, too, sang and prayed. Anger and violence wrestled about in all our worlds, but in that moment we had all come together in Bethlehem to worship and celebrate the Prince of Peace who, if anything, was working shalom into the folds of our lives as he will until the day he returns to work it into all things, once-for-all.
I think many of us know that feeling. With chaos all around us, turmoil all over the world, it’s hard to get yourself ready to celebrate Christmas. Add to it the inherent busyness of this time of year and for some, its almost impossible. Our Christmas tree sat undecorated in our living room for almost a week. We didn’t get the time to buy it until the 15th, and then I could finally put the lights on it this past Saturday. Between the busyness of the season and the pain and struggle around the world that we’re very aware of and concerned about, it can be hard to get into the Christmas spirit.
There was certainly a lot of commotion surrounding the birth of Christ two thousand years ago too. And it was a painful time. The people of Israel didn’t understand what was happening to them, and around them, and they hadn’t heard the voice of God from a prophet in about 400 years. They were oppressed, depressed, and defeated. People from all over the region were traveling to their hometowns to register for Caesar’s census, which would lead to them paying more tribute to Rome. Bethlehem, a small village no one important thought much about, full of nobodies no one important cared much about, would have been full well beyond her meager capacity.
The village of 300-600 residents swelled as people came home to register. Locals running everywhere trying to make room so they could capitalize on the influx of travelers. And then, when one woman named Mary went into labor in the cave stable of a small inn or guest house, or in the lower level of a house that was set aside for animals, angels appeared in the skies above the surrounding countryside declaring to a bunch of shepherds that God’s messiah had come.
The long anticipated arrival of God’s messiah came, but not in the way people expected. Sure, the angels were an awesome sight, but most people didn’t notice. Just a small group of shepherds. And it didn’t happen in Jerusalem, at the magnificent temple, the connecting point between God and humanity for centuries. What a wonder this all must have been to Mary and Joseph! But life soon returned to normal. The shepherds returned to their flocks.
The travelers, including Mary, Joseph, and their new baby boy returned home. For them, that home was the larger but still not much to talk about Nazareth. And so we find Mary and Joseph in the mundane, normal activities associated with welcoming a new baby into the world in Israel in the days of the Roman empire. Turn with me to Luke 2:21-39.
Eight days after his birth, the baby was circumcised and given the name Jesus, which was a modern rendition of the ancient Hebrew name Joshua, which means Jehovah is salvation. Even his name spoke of the saving work of God, and Joshua was one of the two faithful spies who survived the wandering in the wilderness and got to see Israel come into the promised land. In fact, Joshua was Moses’ successor, the one who led them into their new home, the one who led them to victory at Jericho and at city after city after that. He was perhaps the greatest military leader they’d ever had. Jesus. Jehovah is Salvation. God is my deliverance.
And then about a month later Mary and Joseph went to Jerusalem for the rites of Mary’s purification after childbirth and to present their firstborn boy in the temple as the law required.
It is obvious that the family of Jesus was very poor, for the law required the presentation of a yearling lamb, unless the mother or her family could not afford even that, and then she was to bring two turtledoves or two young pigeons. The acceptable offering of the very poor. The practically destitute. And what did Mary and Joseph offer? Look at V. 24.
A lamb isn’t even mentioned. Luke wants his readers to know that Jesus was born not into the palace home of the powerful or the ornate home of the wealthy, but into the poorest of families. That the angels appeared not to the religious and political powerbrokers in Jerusalem, but to a group of reviled shepherds on the outskirts of a forgotten village.
God had come! God with us! But not the way the people expected. Jesus would later say that in the kingdom of God he came to establish “the last will be first, and the first last” (Matt. 20:16). In fact, he said it more than once. And from the moment he appeared, even as a babe, that truth was made abundantly clear.
Faith in Christ begins when I acknowledge my need. Jesus’ human family understood what it meant to find yourself undeservedly in God’s grace. And that is the attitude that we all – rich and poor, successful and failure, must embrace. I have a need I cannot meet.
Tiny Bethlehem. Destitute Mary and Joseph. A bunch of poor, rough shepherds. These are the ones to whom the birth of Christ was announced. Those who think they’re deserving will never seek Christ. Those who know they aren’t deserving will fall at his feet in wonder and worship.
Joseph and Mary did everything that the law required. The circumcision. The naming of the baby. The sacrificial offering for Mary’s cleansing. The presentation of the first-born boy at the temple to be set apart for the Lord. Jesus would later say, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them” (Matt. 5:17). And fulfill them he did, for every Jew living under the law and failing miserably, for every non-Jew living apart from the law, he himself lived flawlessly, even in birth, under the law, becoming for all the once-and-for-all unblemished Lamb of God who would die on the cross to take away the sins of all who place their faith in him.
Now, look at what happens next. Joseph and Mary are at the temple with Jesus and two elder saints approach them. One was a righteous and devout man named Simeon who had been anxiously awaiting God’s next move.
Israel was a conquered and oppressed people, passed from the hands of Egypt, to Syria, to Greece, and ultimately to Rome. Most went about their business, grumbling about the burdens placed on them by the superpowers who ruled them and the role they played as pawns in others games. But some were waiting for God to act. And Luke tells us that the Holy Spirit had come upon Simeon, and a widowed prophetess in the temple named Anna.
While everyone else was anxiously looking for answers in all the wrong places, Simeon and Anna were waiting on God, listening carefully. And the Holy Spirit came upon them and began to speak to them. And because they were faithfully praying, listening for the voice of God, looking for the hand of God at work around them, these two blessed saints, well advanced in years, got to see God’s salvation in the flesh before they died.
And the spark of a song that had been born in their hearts was fanned into flame as they recognized the Holy One in their midst in the arms of Mary, and the song in their hearts overflowed into songs of praise to God. While others were looking for powerful military leaders like Joshua and the Maccabees, or perfection in worship and life through the magnificent temple in Jerusalem, Simeon and Anna recognized Emmanuel, God with us, in the baby from Nazareth, born in Bethlehem.
But Simeon’s song carried within it words of warning for Mary, and for us. Look at V. 34. The first thing to notice here is that the baby in Mary’s arms is referred to as one who will divide the nation of Israel. Because you have to truly come to the end of self to embrace Christ, there are those who cannot bring themselves to kneel in humility before the babe of Bethlehem.
No matter how you slice him, Jesus was, is, and will always be a stumbling block for some and the cornerstone of life for others. But given the testimony of the Christian scriptures, the claims made about him, and the claims he made about himself, either embrace him as Lord and fall before him in worship or hate him and reject him as a liar. With Jesus there is no middle ground.
Notice Simeon’s words directly to Mary. I can just picture him looking deeply into her eyes as he said “a sword will pierce your soul too,” for something in Simeon knew that down the road lay the tears and despair of a heartbroken mother. Golgotha’s cross has its roots in Bethlehem’s manger, for the one who is Emmanuel, God with us, would live for us from the moment of his birth the life that no human being could live – a perfect life under the law. And then he would offer himself as the lamb of God on the cross in your place and mine, offering us forgiveness before God and a place in the kingdom of God here on earth now and throughout eternity.
You know, God hasn’t given me all the answers I seek. He hasn’t yet wiped every tear from my eye yet. He hasn’t taken away the heartache yet. There’s a bittersweetness to this time of year as Becky and I celebrate with Aubrey and Bobby and Sterling and Eli and Reece. But we’re very aware of two deeply loved sons who aren’t with us … Corin and Zeke. No, he hasn’t given me the answers to my “why’s.” But he’s given me himself and he’s walked every step WITH me. Many of his steps hurt too, and in those steps he felt my pain, in fact he felt more than the pain I feel now because he felt the ultimate, eternal pain of my sin for me, and for that I am grateful.
So let me ask you … is the song of Christ still in your heart this Christmas season, or has the song, because of life, because of cynicism, because of pain and tragedy, stopped playing in your heart? Come to the end of yourself and in humility embrace him, the babe of Bethlehem, as King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Watch with anticipation for God at work around you in unexpected ways, and allow him to be Emmanuel … YOUR Emmanuel. God with us. God with you. God with me. Let’s pray.
