Sometimes something comes across the Internet that simply has to be shared, even on Christmas Eve. This item was obviously authored by a woman. Her claim is that all the reindeer that pull Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve have to be females. Think about it for a moment. According to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, both male and female reindeer grow antlers in the summer each year. However male reindeer lose their antlers at the beginning of winter, usually late November to mid‑December. Female reindeer, on the other hand retain their antlers till after they give birth in the spring.
Thus, she concludes, since all the male reindeer have lost their antlers by December 24 each year and since all depictions of Santa’s reindeer show them with antlers, all of Santa’s reindeer, every single one of them, from Rudolph to Blitzen, had to be female. Then she adds, “We should’ve known . . . only women would be able to drag a fat man in a red velvet suit all around the world in one night and not get lost.”
Maybe she’s right. You can battle that out when you get home. I know some of our boys and girls are looking forward to Santa’s visit later tonight. That’s part of what makes this the grandest night of the year. And that’s why we are turning to one of the grandest stories in all of human literature Luke’s telling of the Christmas story.
You know the story. Caesar Augustus issued a decree that everyone in the empire was to be counted and that each should register in the town of their family origin. So a young father-to-be named Joseph was forced to leave his home in Nazareth, along with his betrothed wife, Mary, and make the arduous journey to Bethlehem.
An explanation might be helpful at this point. Normal Jewish marriage procedures took three steps: Engagement, which was often arranged by the couple’s parents when they were only children. Then came betrothal. Betrothals usually took place when the girl was twelve or thirteen years old and lasted for one year. A betrothal was as binding as a marriage and could not be terminated except by divorce. Should the man to whom a girl was betrothed die, in the eyes of the law she was a widow. Thus in the law of that time there occurs a strange‑sounding phrase, a virgin who is a widow. Finally, after one year of betrothal came marriage. (1)
So Joseph and his pregnant betrothed wife make this journey. When they arrive at Bethlehem they cannot find lodging, and they take shelter in a stable where their son Jesus, the Savior of the world is born.
About this same time, there were shepherds who were watching over their flocks in a nearby field. In the middle of the night they were disturbed by an angel, a messenger from God. The angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.” Can there possibly be a more beautiful story?
This is a night for pure, unadulterated joy. How can you be a cynic on Christmas Eve? How can you be a killjoy? How can you be a grinch? It doesn’t get any better than this in this world. Families getting together, children fidgeting with wide-eyed expectancy, churches filled for candle-lit services. The music, the color, the well-wishes and the hugs. It doesn’t get any better. Christmas Eve. A humble couple awaits the birth of their first son in a stable in Bethlehem. Overhead angels sing glory to God in the highest. This is faith at its most basic. This is hope at its most triumphant.
The birth of a child. There’s nothing like it. If you were to ask most parents, “What was the most important event in your life?” a significant number would answer “the birth of our first child.”
Author Peter Hiett tells about the birth of his oldest son, Jonathan. Jonathan was nearly six weeks early. Hiett’s wife had twenty‑four hours of intense labor and a ruptured placenta, and they didn’t even know where the hospital was. They didn’t know if Jonathan would live, and Hiett wasn’t sure his wife would either.
He says he’s never seen a person in such anguish as his wife was that night. There was blood everywhere, and she was passing out on the table from pain and exhaustion. He remembers thinking, “You’d better enjoy this baby, if he lives, because you’ll never have another one.”
However, as the doctor pulled Jonathan out and held him up in front of Hiett’s wife, bloody and screaming, the very first words out of her mouth were, “Oh . . .! I want another one!” (2)
What can bring more joy into our lives than the birth of a child? Oh, I know, there can also be heartbreak, but on this night of nights we focus on the joy that the babe in Bethlehem brought into the world.
“Oh, little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie . . .” It is appropriate that Christ should be born in this small town which lies about six miles outside of Jerusalem. Bethlehem had a long history. It was there that Jacob buried his beloved Rachel, and had set up a pillar of memory beside her grave. It was there that the faithful daughter-in-law Ruth lived when she married Boaz and from Bethlehem Ruth could see the land of Moab, her native land, across the Jordan valley. But above all Bethlehem was home of David, the man after God’s own heart, the great king of Israel. Joseph, of course, was a descendant of David. The prophet Micah foretold that the Messiah would be born in the city of David, Bethlehem (Micah 5:2). (3)
This is part of the romance of Christmas. Christ wasn’t born in Caesar’s household. He wasn’t even born in the holy city of Jerusalem. He was born in the little backwater town of Bethlehem. And he wasn’t born in an elite family. He was born to a poor couple, a couple who had to make a laborious journey almost to the very time of his birth. And he was born in a stable because there was no room for them in the inn. His crib was a rough trough from which cattle fed. Millions of poor and weary people around our globe find hope for their lives from the story of Christ’s birth. It would not be the same if he had been born in a palace.
Some of you might remember a scene in the action-filled movie, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Jones is in search of the Holy Grail, believed to be the cup that Jesus used during the Last Supper. It was said that the Holy Grail gave to whoever drank of it eternal life.
There is a villain, of course, as in any Indiana Jones adventure. This time it’s a greedy antiquities dealer. Indiana Jones, after many harrowing adventures, arrives at the room where the cup is kept, followed closely by the villainous dealer. A knight miraculously kept alive by the power of the Grail from the time of the crusades, has hidden the Grail among many false cups. There were large cups, small cups, fancy cups and plain cups, every kind of cup imaginable was present. The knight warns them that drinking from the true Grail will bring them everlasting life, but drinking from a false Grail will bring them death. The antiquities dealer assumes that, since Jesus was a king, the cup he would use would be the opulent golden cup encrusted with jewels. So he rushes forward and drinks from the cup. As soon as he drinks from it, he knows he has chosen incorrectly. And his end is not pleasant. Indiana Jones is much wiser. He recognizes that a plain cup with no decoration is much more representative of the humble carpenter from Nazareth. And, of course, he is right.
The humble babe who is a king. Born in a stable in Bethlehem of a poor couple who could not find lodging in an inn. God’s own son lying in a rough manger. How it inspires the imagination and tugs at the heart.
H. V. Morton once visited the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem. He came to a great wall, and in the wall there was a door so low that he had to stoop to enter it. Through the door, on the other side of the wall, there was the church. Beneath the high altar of the church was a little cavern about fourteen yards long and four yards wide lit by silver lamps. In the floor there was a star, and round it a Latin inscription: “Here Jesus Christ was born of the Virgin Mary.” William Barclay writes, “When the Lord of Glory came to this earth, he was born in a cave where men sheltered the beasts. The cave in the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem may be that same cave, or it may not be. That we will never know for certain. But there is something beautiful in the symbolism that the church where the cave is has a door so low that all must stoop to enter. It is supremely fitting that every man should approach the infant Jesus upon his knees.” (4)
This is not a night for pretentiousness. It is not a night for congratulating ourselves on how successful we have become or how many beautiful presents we will give or receive. This is a night for bowing in humility before the cradle of one who gave up everything in our behalf. And this is a night for receiving his peace and love. Christ emptied himself completely when he came into our world. Some of you are in pain this night. He has been in pain. Know that, as you bow before the manger.
One of the annual Christmas television specials that brightens up the season is the Charlie Brown Christmas. In this special Charlie Brown directs a Christmas play and hunts for the perfect tree, and Linus expounds on the true meaning of Christmas.
When the special was first shown, the folks at CBS were concerned that the use of actual Bible quotes in the special would turn off viewers. Imagine that religion intruding into a Christmas special! But Peanuts creator Charles Schulz was insistent. So Linus recites from the book of Luke during the show, telling the same story we read tonight. Here was something I hope you noticed in the show. Linus, who was famously attached to his security blanket, lets go of it when he tells the story of Jesus’ birth. (5)
And why shouldn’t he? Here is our security. Here is our peace, our hope, our joy. God has come into our world in the babe of Bethlehem. Why shouldn’t we sing for joy on this night of nights? Something very special happened in our world two thousand years ago. A babe was born to a humble couple, a babe who makes it possible for us to know and to love God. It doesn’t get any better than that. Joy to the World. The Lord has come.
1. Good Tidings of Great Joy (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1999).
2. Eternity Now! (Brentwood, TN: Integrity Publishers, 2003, p. 157).
3. Barclay.
4. Ibid.
5. Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader Christmas Collection (San Diego, CA: Portable Press, 2005), p. 21.