I was staying at a hotel in a small town, near a large city. My room was upstairs on the front, overlooking the street. The noise from below finally died down, but I still was unable to sleep for a long time. Late in the night, I was startled by a man pounding on the door downstairs. I heard voices, and I could tell the manager was talking with this man about needing a room. As I listened closer, I learned that it was a man and his wife. They had come a long way. The young wife was expecting a child any moment. They needed a place to stay.
The manager of the hotel explained to them how all the rooms had already been taken. There was an unusual amount of tourists for that time of the year. Many of them were on business, in town for the same reason I was. There simply was no place for the couple. But, I remember him saying, “I’ll tell you what I can do. There’s a place down in the basement, where we keep the animals. I’m sorry, that’s all I have. But this time of the year, it’s really the warmest place I have, being below ground.”
I listened intently and heard steps as they went around the corner of the building. I lay awake a long time, knowing a little baby could be born here, and early in the wee hours I fought sleep, wondering if I might be able to hear a baby’s cry.
Here on the third Sunday In Advent, we are getting closer to the celebration of the Savior’s birth. We are in that time of anticipation — expectancy —looking forward. That is the feeling in the air on this Sunday in Advent.
There was a custom in the far north, where the nights are six months long. After spending long months in the darkness, the people gather out on a hillside to celebrate the return of the sunlight. They would sing, “The sun is coming to us again.”
Here in this time of anticipation, we seem to hear the words of the prophet Isaiah echoing down through the centuries, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.”
It was certainly a time of anticipation for Joseph and Mary as they left their home in Nazareth and made their way down into Judea, to the town of Bethlehem, Joseph’s ancestral home.
Late in the evening, they came through Jerusalem, and took that little road which led out to Bethlehem. As they came near Bethlehem, they saw only a few lights still on. They heard a few voices in the night, and someone’s old dog was barking in the distance.
They went to the Bethlehem Inn, for it had been a long journey and they were weary. They were glad to take that space where the animals were kept. There was a room in the inn, but it was down in the basement in an area carved out of the side of a sandstone hill. It was probably the warmest place in town, also, but none of that really mattered to them. There was something that caused them to forget their weariness and overlook the uncomfortable surroundings, for they were thrilled in their hearts with the anticipated birth of their child.
This child would be the Savior of the world. The people walking in darkness would receive a great light. It would be the light of salvation.
On these Sundays, we are thinking about the theme: The light of Bethlehem still shines on us. Today, our thoughts turn to this: In the darkness of oppression, there is the light of salvation.
Joseph and Mary went to Bethlehem for one reason. All of these people were living under the oppression of Rome. It had been that way for centuries. First, the surrounding enemies had conquered Israel, then Judah, then came the deportation to Babylon. That was followed by a time of freedom. Soon the Greeks came, and then the Romans. The people were oppressed. They needed a Savior and they knew it. The irony is, the Savior came, and yet many did not even know it.
The salvation he brought would be greater than any political freedom. It would be broader than the borders of any kingdom or empire.
The light he brought into the world, the light of salvation, still shines. It shines into the darkness of any, and every, kind of oppression.
Perhaps some of us are oppressed today by fear, sin, sorrow, failure, or suffering of some kind. Christmas brings to all of us the good news of the Savior’s birth. In the darkness of oppression, the light of salvation still shines.
Let me suggest some things for us which enable us to receive the Savior and stand in the light of salvation:
I
Look for him expectantly.
That is something basic. Look for him expectantly.
If we do not do this, we will not find him. We will not see him. We will not know of his coming to us if we are not looking for him.
We always look forward to the birth of a baby expectantly. That is why we use the term “expecting.” To keep from using the word “pregnant” we sometimes use a more proper-sounding word, like “expecting,” or we say, “in a family way.” That says nothing about the reality of the situation, the reality is that a baby is on its way into the world.
Mary was pregnant, and she and Joseph were expecting that little fellow to arrive immediately. They went to Bethlehem knowing he could be born at any time. That ride on the donkey must have encouraged him along.
All of the people involved in the first Christmas had this same sense of expectancy. Not only these parents, but the shepherds and the Wise Men as well. They all came to Bethlehem expecting to find him.
That is what we need, this sense of expectancy.
So many of us in the modern world have such a low sense of expectancy. We have no expectations. We feel we have already seen it all. We spend our lives aiming at nothing and hitting it. We are not looking for anything, not expecting anything.
My wife grew up in the low country of South Carolina, across the river from Savannah, Georgia. Once, when we were there visiting her mother, I was reading a local paper. I saw an ad that said, “Wanted, a good woman who will clean, sew, cook, fish, dig worms, and owns a good boat and motor. Please send picture of boat and motor.” Nothing has ever happened to the man who placed that ad and nothing ever will.
What we must do is work on our sense of expectancy.
An ambitious young man asked an experienced salesman to share with him how he had been so successful. The older salesman said, “There is no great secret to it. You just have to jump at every opportunity that comes along.” The young man wanted to know how you could tell when an opportunity was coming along. The older man said, “You can’t tell. You just have to keep on jumping.”
In all areas of our lives, we must expect something to happen. This is especially true of Christmas and what it can mean to us. We can only get out of it what we are expecting.
There is a novel that places Jesus in the modern world. The name of it is Joshua. That is the name of Jesus in this story, and the other books in this series. At one point, Joshua explained to a man how we see what we are looking at differently. Joshua earned his living working with wood. He told the man we look at life with different vision. We see what we want to see. Three men may look at the same tree. One sees valuable lumber. Another sees firewood. The third sees a work of art.1
That is the way Christmas is. We must cultivate within ourselves the sense of expectancy about the Savior being born anew in us.
Let me remind you of something else:
II
Prepare for him thoroughly.
That is something else which is basic. Prepare for him thoroughly. We will miss him if we do not do this. We have to make the necessary preparations just as we have to prepare for a baby.
Mary and Joseph made the best preparations they could for the birth of this child. They were traveling all the way from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Sometimes you just have to do the best you can with what you have, where you are. Mary and Joseph did that.
If we do not prepare thoroughly for Christmas, it will pass us by and we will be none the better for it.
Maybe the question we face is not, “How would you like to experience Christmas?” but “How would you like to completely miss Christmas this year?” How would you like to not be affected by Christmas at all this year?
That is a danger so many of us face: that we will leave some important things undone.
Some years ago, Dr. John Brokhoff reminded us, in an Advent sermon, of a game we all played as a child. One person hides his or her eyes, while the others go hide themselves. Then, after counting to a certain number, the person who is “it,” says, “Ready or not — here I come!”2
That is the way it is with Christmas and the birth of the Savior. Ready or not, Christmas comes, but if you want his light to shine on you, you must get ready.
Prepare for his coming. Open your heart and mind to this great truth about Christ being born — God’s only Son coming into the world —becoming God with us — getting down to our eye level — taking upon himself the human experience — identifying himself with us and all we suffer through — enduring all our sins, sorrows, hurts, and shame, even death — and then winning a victory over all of this for us because he is the Savior. Remember all these basic things about his birth, and then open your heart and mind to this Savior being born in you.
There is an old story about a slave woman who had a great Christian faith. She could not read, but the children she cared for had taught her to recognize the name of Jesus. She knew it when she saw it. Every evening she would sit down with the Bible and run her fingers up and down the pages searching for the name of Jesus.
In the same spirit, let us be preparing ourselves thoroughly for his coming.
Let me remind you of something else:
III
Welcome him graciously.
That is the other very basic thing to remember. Welcome him graciously.
We will never know he has come if we do not do this. We must open our lives to him.
We must always do this for a baby. A baby will always change your life.
Mary and Joseph opened their lives to this baby. They received him as a precious gift.
We know everyone did not receive him that way. Most folks in Bethlehem never even knew what had happened. Old, mean Herod was not at all happy about it; he had a very hard time with the birth of Jesus. But most people just missed it entirely.
You need to receive him in a gracious way.
I was out one afternoon trying to find the home of one of our church members. I knew I was in the right neighborhood, but I could not find the house. I knocked on a door, hoping to find someone who could tell me where to go. An older man opened the door and before I could introduce myself to him, and let him know that I was from the United Methodist church, he said, “Hi! Come in!” It was a gracious welcome to a stranger.
Would you give that kind of welcome to the Savior? Would you welcome him graciously?
A number of years ago, on Christmas Eve, the Altanta airport was iced in. Anxious passengers were hoping to catch their flights home. For a while, all flights were cancelled. But, things began to open up. Passengers listened for their flights and rushed to board them. A couple of people spotted one man in a fine business suit who seemed unconcerned, going about his work, reading reports, his first-class seat, probably, confirmed. They thought he was another Ebenezer Scrooge. When a young soldier appeared with a low-priority ticket, hoping to get a seat on the flight to New Orleans, he was told there was little hope. He was almost frantic. He was going to Vietnam in less than a month and he said this might be his last Christmas at home. The agent was sorry, but there was nothing he could do. When the boarding began, the seats were called out and the plane began filling up. The businessman in the expensive suit walked up to the agent and said, “I have a confirmed ticket. I’d like to give my seat to this young man.”The tears ran down the soldier’s face as the man told him, “Good luck. Have a fine Christmas. Good luck.” As the plane pulled away, there was a glow in the hearts of all who had seen what had taken place.3
What if this Christmas you and I could open up a place for the Savior? What kind of glow might burn in us if we could open our lives to the light of the Savior’s birth? Won’t you give him a place? Welcome him graciously into the place where you live.
1.Joseph F. Girzone, Joshua (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1983), p. 67.
2.John R. Brokhoff, Wrinkled Wrappings (Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 1975), p. 13.
3.Ray Jenkins, “Drama At Gate 67,” The Gift Of Christmas (Norwalk, Connecticut: The C. R. Gibson Company, 1987), p. 55.