"Look down and see the beggars at your feet. Look down and show some mercy if you can. Look down and see the sweepings of the street. Look down, look down upon your fellow man!" Thus reads the text of a song from the most popular work of musical theater in history: Les Miserables. In the musical version of the classic French novel by Victor Hugo this song shifts the scene to the squalid streets of Paris: 1832. It is sung by "the miserable ones," those from whom the novel and the musical takes its name.

The beggars, the poor, the dregs of society sing to the upper crust. "Look down," they cry. "See our misery." Theirs is a cry as old as human history and as fresh as today's headlines. The world has always been filled with "the miserable ones," "the wretched of the earth," crying out for mercy and justice.

Soon after this cry of the wretched ones in Les Miserables the student revolutionaries swing into action on their behalf. These young idealists are out to see that justice is done. They sing together these words: "Do you hear the people sing? Singing the songs of angry men? It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again!" The revolutionary youth go on to sing of "life about to start when tomorrow comes." A word of hope appears in the midst of human wretchedness. It is the word of hope that has been held tight by "the miserable ones" in every generation of human history. This theme of Les Miserables strikes a universal human chord. People in every age have cried out for a better life. It is no wonder that this story takes such a firm grip on our human heartstrings. Hope for "the wretched of the earth" lives deeply in the hearts of human beings in every generation. 19 As is so often the case, however, those who fight for the new world that tomorrow brings are slaughtered on the barricades. The women sing of their grief at seeing their young men dead on the battlefield. "They were schoolboys," the women sing, "never held a gun ... Fighting for a new world that would rise up with the sun. Where's that new world now the fighting's done? Nothing changes. Nothing ever will ... Same old story. What's the use of tears? What's the use of praying if there's nobody who hears?" Nothing changes. Nothing ever will. Despair grips "the miserable ones" once more. There seems to be no hope. No point of tears.

And yet the final chorus of the musical dares yet to proclaim hope for "the wretched of the earth." The last words sung by the chorus ask if we hear the distant drums. These drums pound out the hope for the future that will come with tomorrow. "Tomorrow comes!" These are the last bold words of "the wretched ones." These are the last bold words sung in Les Miserables. "Tomorrow comes!"

And such it has been and such it will ever be. The poor, the lowly, the hungry can only dare to face life each day if there be some such ray of hope. Tomorrow! That hope beats with mighty strength in the lives of all this world's wretched ones. It might be that tomorrow the whole world will be turned upside down and justice will reign at last. Tomorrow -- surely -- our tears will be heard!"

The theme of poverty, riches, possessions and the realm of God is a constant theme of Luke. It begins with Mary's song. Mary had an encounter with an angel. "You will bear a son and call his name Jesus," the angel announced. "Let it be with me according to your word," said Mary. Elizabeth, Mary's relative, blessed Mary for her trust that God's word of promise would be fulfilled. And then Mary sang a song. Mary's song may just well be the central song of Luke's entire gospel. Luke tells many stories in his gospel that are best understood as comments on her song!

Mary's song sings of a God of great reversals. This God has high regard for a lowly maiden. This God scatters the proud and puts down the mighty from their thrones. The high are made low and the low are exalted. This God, furthermore, fills the hungry with good things and sends the rich away empty-handed. That's the kind of God that Mary sings about it. A God of great reversals. A God who makes the rich poor and the poor rich.

Jesus sings a similar song in his hometown synagogue in Nazareth. During the worship service that day Jesus was given the scroll of Isaiah that he might read it to the congregation. "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me," Jesus read, "because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor" (Luke 4:18-19). Isaiah had prophesied that God would send a spirit-filled servant who would bring a great reversal to human affairs. After he had finished reading from the Isaiah scroll, Jesus gave it to the attendant and sat down. Every eye in the synagogue was fixed upon him. Jesus spoke. "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing," he said. He was the spirit-filled servant of whom Isaiah had prophesied. He was the one who would bring great reversals to life in fulfillment of Mary's song. He was the one who brought good news to the poor.

"Blessed are you poor." We should not be surprised at these words of Jesus to his disciples. In Luke 6:20-26 Jesus also speaks of great reversals. The poor will be blessed. The hungry will be satisfied. The weeping ones shall laugh. Those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake will rejoice. Reversals work the other way as well. The weak of the earth will be blessed but the mighty of the earth shall be filled with woe. Woe to the rich. Woe to those who are full now. Woe to those who laugh now. Woe to those of whom the world now speaks well.

John the Baptist watched Jesus' ministry from afar. John wondered about Jesus. Was he really the promised Messiah? John sent some of his disciples to Jesus with just this question. "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?" John's disciples asked Jesus on John's behalf (Luke 7:21). Jesus had an answer for John. "Go and tell John what you have seen and heard," he instructs John's disciples, "the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them" (Luke 7:22). The "great reversals" have begun. That's Jesus' word to John.

Today's story from Luke is a story in this lineage. A great reversal takes place. The rich man is sent away empty. The poor hear good news!"

Remains Of The Day is a powerful movie starring Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson. Hopkins plays the role of the chief butler at a large estate in England. Emma Thompson plays his chief assistant. The movie is set in the years immediately preceding and succeeding World War II.

The butler is the central figure in the film. He has come by his trade naturally. His father was a butler before him. The estate, therefore, is the only home he has ever known. He knows no other life. In this world he is a man of absolute dependability. He runs the large estate staff like clockwork. He is a model of efficiency. He is also a man who seems to have no emotions whatsoever. One evening, for example, while the staff is busily serving a marvelous banquet the butler is called aside. His father, who also works and lives at the estate, has taken ill. The butler goes quietly to his father's room. He finds his father is dying. He takes care of matters quite efficiently and goes back to the demands of the banquet. Not a tear is shed.

The head of the estate in these pre-war years in England is a man who has great sympathy for the German cause. Many meetings are held at his estate as he seeks to enlighten others in the cause of his sympathy. Much pro-Nazi discussion takes place around the ornately crafted tables of the estate. The butler is right there in the midst of all this. He hears the discussions but it seems to make no impression upon him whatsoever.

After the war the butler receives a warm letter from the woman who had in years past been his chief assistant at the estate. This was a woman who was greatly attracted to the butler. The butler either did not notice her attraction to him or he did not know how to comport himself in the presence of this beautiful woman. No one had ever taught him about love. At any rate, in response to her letter the butler gets the use of one of the cars of the estate to go and visit her with an eye to hiring her back to her old position. Watching the movie one hopes that, at long last, love will come to full bloom between these kindly souls. The entire movie works to build our suspense about this matter. She sends out all the clues in the world to him that she is interested more in him than in a position at the estate. But the butler cannot hear. The butler cannot see.

On his way to speak with his former assistant his car breaks down. He finds himself waiting for help at a local pub. The patrons of the pub ask where he is from. He mentions the estate. At first they mistakenly assume that he might own the estate. They ask him many questions. He can answer none of them. Two distinguished looking gentlemen get into the discussion with the butler. They have sized him up as a common man. They ask him his impressions of the former head of his estate. "Do you agree with the positions of your master?" they inquire. "What do you think of the war?"

The questions totally confuse the butler. "No, I don't have an opinion on that. No, I don't understand that." Those who have put the questions to him laugh at this common man who understands nothing. Just as they thought! The audience is left puzzled. The butler has heard many discussions at his master's estate concerning the war. He has been there. He has heard. He has seen. But he has heard and seen nothing. The butler cannot hear. The butler cannot see. "

William Willimon, dean of the chapel at Duke University, questions: Don't you find it interesting that when the great Lord, the Creator of the universe, the One who hung the stars in the heavens and set the planets spinning in their courses, when this great God chose to come among us he chose to come to us as a baby? And when that baby grew up, he told those who would be his disciples, "You cannot enter my kingdom unless you turn and become as a little child."

The message of Christmas is that God intrudes upon the weak and the vulnerable, and this is precisely the message that we so often miss. God does not come to that part of us that swaggers through life, confident in our self sufficiency. God leaves his treasure in the broken fragmented places of our life. God comes to us in those rare moments when we are able to transcend our own selfishness long enough to really care about another human being.

On the wall of the museum of the concentration camp at Dachau is a large and moving photograph of a mother and her little girl standing in line of a gas chamber. The child, who is walking in front of her mother, does not know where she is going. The mother, who walks behind, does know, but is helpless to stop the tragedy. In her helplessness she performs the only act of love left to her. She places her hands over he child's eyes so she will at least not see the horror to come. When people come into the museum they do not whisk by this photo hurriedly. They pause. They almost feel the pain. And deep inside I think that they are all saying: "O God, don't let that be all that there is."

God hears those prayers and it is in just such situations of hopelessness and helplessness that his almighty power is born. It is there that God leaves his treasure. In Mary and in all of us, as Christ is born anew within.

Perhaps we need Santa at Christmas to help us be merry and joyous because we have a flawed understanding of Jesus. From today's gospel text we learn that the first reaction to Jesus' presence on earth, of God-in-our-midst, was joy. Joy so tremendous, joy so utterly overwhelming that it must somehow escape the bounds of earth itself and jump towards the heavens.

In John Ortberg's wonderful book The Life You've Always Wanted (Zondervan,2002), he writes: We will not understand God until we understand this about him: "God is the happiest being in the universe" (G. K. Chesterton). Yes, God knows sorrow. Jesus is remembered, among other things, as a 'man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.' But the sorrow of God, like the anger of God, is his temporary response to a fallen world. That sorrow will be banished forever from his heart on the day the world is set right. Joy is God's basic character. God is the happiest being in the universe.

Joy is what makes Christmas. Each of us may look to some annual family tradition to trigger that joy. But the trees, the carols, the cookies, the presents, the parties, are only various expressions of a single experience of the spirit JOY born again into our souls.

According to the US Department of Fish and Game, while both male and female reindeer grow antlers in the summer each year...Male reindeer drop their antlers at the beginning of winter, usually late November to mid-December. Female reindeer, however, retain their antlers until after they give birth in the spring. Therefore, according to every historical rendition depicting Santa's reindeer, every single one of them, from Rudolph to Blitzen...had to be a female."

The comment was included, "We should've known this when they were able to find their way."

That has nothing to do with the sermon other than serve to introduce us to our lesson from the Gospel of Luke which, above all the books in the New Testament, highlights women.

A man in the hospital is being treated for cancer. He is estranged from the Church. He has this long list of things he can name for you in his indictment. He doesn't like the Church in its present institutional form. But he is in the hospital. One day a priest walks into his room. He didn't invite him in, he just walked in. The priest asked him, "Do you want to be anointed?" That is the Catholic rite for the sick. The man said, "Yes." Then he wrote this. "Lying on my narrow, hospital bed, feeling the oil of gladness and healing, I knew I had little time. More importantly though, I felt by a wondrous grace that this was the first time in my memory that the Church was paying attention to me, individually, by name, naming me, praying for me to deal with my painful circumstances and my suffering, the suffering that is uniquely mine. All of a sudden I realized, I matter, I really matter. I still can't get over the power of this feeling of mattering, of being an irreplaceable individual."

When the angel came to Mary, Mary must have said, "I matter, I really matter. I know now that I am an irreplaceable individual."

Scientists tell us that there is a most amazing, and thus-far inexplicable, phenomenon called "quantum entanglement." If two particles of energy are kept in close proximity to each other for a long time, they form a relationship, a kind of bond, that defies the imagination. The connection between these two particles is so strong that if you take one particle to a laboratory in Los Angeles and remove the other one to a lab in New York City, whatever you do to the particle in L.A. will instantly happen to the one in New York, too. Einstein called it "spooky." It also defied his theory that nothing can travel faster than light. Somehow, however, once particles form this kind of bond, it cannot be severed no matter how great the distance between the two becomes.

A similar but opposite thing happened between Mary and Elizabeth. In this case, two separate people formed a relationship across a great distance, a relationship that finally drew them together. Yes, they were cousins to begin with, but you get the feeling that the difference in their ages meant they had never been all that close. You know how it goes at family get-togethers: the cousins already in college hang out together while the younger elementary school-age kids do the same and the two groups don't mix and mingle much. Mary and Elizabeth also did not live terribly close by each other. But something remarkable, something filled with holy mystery, happened to both of these women and so despite their geographic and chronological distance from each other, these two formed a bond across that distance—a bond that would last the rest of their lives.

Pastor William Carter said that on his Christmas vacation during his first year in college, he had become an expert on the birds and the bees. Biology was his major, and after a semester in the freshman class, he was certain that he knew more biology than most adults did in his hometown ... including his minister. A few days before Christmas, he stopped in to see his minister, who received him warmly and asked how he had fared in his first semester. “Okay,” he replied, avoiding the subject of his mediocre grades. But then he told his pastor, "I’ve come home with some questions.”

“Really?” the pastor replied. “Like what?”

“Like the virgin birth. I’ve taken a lot of biology, as you know,” which meant one semester in which he received a B-, “and I think this whole business of a virgin birth doesn’t make much sense to me. It doesn’t fit with what I have learned in biology class.”

“What’s the problem?” he asked.

“There had to be a father,” he announced. “Either it was Joseph or somebody else.”

His pastor looked at him with a coy smile and said, “How can you be so sure?”

“Oh, come on,” he said. “That’s not the way it works. There had to be a father.”

His pastor didn’t back down. Instead he said something that Carter said he’ll never forget: “So — why not God?”

Why not, indeed? The more we learn, the harder it is to swallow a lot of things that once seemed so palatable. Advent is a season of wonder and mystery. We tell our children stories at this time of year that we would never dare tell when it is warmer and there is more sunlight. The really wise child is the kid who knows how to shut his mouth even when he has a few doubts. But sometimes it is hard to do, especially when you have a whole four months of college behind you.

The good news of the Magnificat is that it is not too late to find the salvation of which Mary spoke. A relationship that comes not with an overpowering force, but a relationship that comes with a change of heart, a change that leads us to spiritual awakening. It was one of those moments that changed the life of Augustine. He was struggling with his own soul, searching for something more in life and how the whole thing could have meaning. He was reading his Bible one day, when a strong breeze suddenly opened it to Romans 8. He began to read the very thing of which Mary sang.

Down through the ages, those who would become influential servants of God have told their stories over and over again. I recall the story of the Baptist preacher, D. L. Moody. He said: "I heard an evangelist one night: This century has yet to see what God could do with one person wholly committed to his will." Moody said in his heart of hearts, "By the grace of God, I'll be that person." He emerged from the obscurity of selling shoes into an influence that effected a great portion of a nation. It is obvious from Mary's song that we can participate in the miracle of his kingdom coming and his will being done on earth as it is in heaven.

In a book titled Whispering the Lyrics, Dr. Tom Long takes us back to an ugly time in our own history:

"During the prime days of the struggle for racial integration in the South, black civil rights workers, 'freedom riders' they were called, would travel on buses from city to city, challenging segregationist laws. Sometimes they were greeted with violence; often they were arrested. In one town, a bus was halted by the police and the passengers booked and jailed. While they were there, the jailers did everything possible to make them miserable and to break their spirits. They tried to deprive them of sleep with noise and light during the nights. They intentionally over salted their food to make it distasteful. They gradually took away their mattresses, one by one, hoping to create conflict over the remaining ones.

"Eventually the strategies seemed to be taking hold. Morale in the jail cells was beginning to sag. One of the jailed leaders, looking around one day at his dispirited fellow prisoners, began softly to sing a spiritual song. Slowly, others joined in until the whole group was singing at the top of their voices and the puzzled jailers felt the entire cell block vibrating with the sounds of a joyful gospel song. When they went to see what was happening, the prisoners triumphantly pushed the remaining mattresses through the cell bars, saying, 'You can take our mattresses, but you can't take our souls.'"

Tom Long says, "It was the hymn singers who were in jail, but it was the jailers who were guilty. It was the prisoners who were suffering, but the jailers who were defeated. It was the prisoners who were in a position of weakness, but it was the broken and bigoted world of the jailers . . . that was perishing."

Friends, you can't stop God. Once God begins moving, the best you can do is get out of the way. God was at work at the manger of Bethlehem. God was at work redeeming the world to Himself. No wonder the baby leaped. Christmas is an exciting time. God has come into the world. God's plan for the world is being fulfilled. It is a time for leaping for joy.

I am holding in my hands a copy of one of the world’s most revolutionary documents. In it are found these immortal words: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. . .” Of course, that document, the Declaration of Independence, is the charter of the American Revolution. Though we have not yet lived up to it, it has been the vision that inspires us.

The only document I know that is more revolutionary is in our Bible. It is called the Magnificat and is found in Luke, chapter 1, verses 39 through 56.

Back before India won its independence, it was under British rule. Bishop William Temple of the Anglican Church warned his missionaries to India not to read the Magnificat in public. He feared that it would be so inflammatory that it might start a revolution!

The document is all the more remarkable when one remembers that it came from the lips of a simple, teenaged girl named Mary. She grew up in the obscure village of Nazareth in what is now northern Israel. The angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and announced that she had been chosen to be the mother of the long-awaited Messiah. Gabriel told Mary that her aunt Elizabeth, well past the child-bearing age, had become pregnant. Immediately Mary went to visit Elizabeth. Under the influence of the Holy Spirit, both women sensed that God has chosen them for special tasks and would do great things through their children.

Mary was then given by the Holy Spirit insights far too profound for a simple teenager to originate. She declared the impact that her son would have upon the world. She announced three distinct revolutions, which Jesus would instigate and activate. She spoke of these revolutions in the past tense, as if they had already happened. The world has been reeling ever since under the influence of our revolutionary Lord.

A world shaping revolution is in place. Just this past week many wrongs in the mid East were set on the path of being righted: the proud have been scattered, the mighty have fallen, and the humble He has lifted. With these events in view let us turn not to the UN, not to any world leader, but to a young peasant girl named Mary, for it is HER words that are illustrated by these world events. Let’s consider that it was SHE that gave birth to the Revolution that is the pattern for all others.

1. The first nature of the revolution is spiritual.
2. The second nature of the revolution is social.
3. The third nature of the revolution is economic.

Elizabeth and Mary both were selected to give birth to these very special babies because of their faith in God. They did not have affluent homes or great educational advantages. All they had was simple faith. And that's important. Happy families don't just happen. They are part of a package.

Some of you young people may complain that your parents expect too much from you. They have too many rules and regulations. Maybe your parents are a little old fashioned, a little behind the times. Let me clue you in: it is these same characteristics that make you so fortunate. If they were any other way, they wouldn't put your happiness before their own, they wouldn't make sacrifices in your behalf, they wouldn't have surrounded you with love ever since you first came into the world. Because they are people of strong values, you can rest assured that they will always be there for you regardless of what may come. It's all part of a package. It has to do with a commitment that they have made - to God, to one another, and to you. The family that prays together generally does stay together, as trite as that may sound. Faith was important to Elizabeth and Mary. They trusted God.

A young boy complained to his father that most of the church hymns were boring and old-fashioned, with tiresome words that meant little to his generation. His father challenged him with these words: "If you think you can write better hymns, why don't you?"

The boy accepted the challenge, went to his room, and wrote his first hymn. The year was 1690, and the young man was Isaac Watts. Among his 350 hymns are "Joy to the World," "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross," "I Sing the Almighty Power of God," and many other classics.

HERE'S ANOTHER VERSION OF WATT' S STORY

Consider the story of one young man. He was often sick as a baby. He was always small, puny some would say. As a youth he was always frail and delicate. He was not able to play sports with the other boys his age. Eventually he entered the ministry. But his health was so fragile, he was unable to serve his growing congregation.

Amazingly, he did not dwell on his troubles. In fact, his spirit soared. His only real complaint was the poor quality of the hymns of his day. He felt they did not convey hope and joy. Someone challenged him to write better ones. He did. He wrote over 600 hymns, most of them hymns of praise.

When his health collapsed completely in 1748, he left one of the most remarkable collection of hymns the world has ever known. His name was Isaac Watts. In a few weeks we will be singing one of his most famous hymns, "Joy to the World!" Isaac Watts discovered joy in his life because he knew that God would never desert him. He was able to live his life with all sorts of health problems feeling close to God and Jesus. He had joy deep in his heart.

The first ship was a mighty man of war carrying its cargo of manpower and ammunition. It was a thrilling sight to see and a devastating power. On occasion the ship moved with mighty purpose and more often flexed its guns in peacetime pageantry. The second ship was a fishing boat manned by a few hands and eternally engaged in the procuring of food for hungry men.

"Wouldn't you like to be a great battleship," spoke the trawling boat to its mother fishing craft. "Then all the other boats would make way for your coming."

"No," said the fishing craft. "The battleship depends more on me than I depend on it. That great ship is especially powerful in protecting life or destroying it in time of war and it depends on which side you are on as to how you value its activity. On the other hand my work is to feed life and make happy all whom I serve every day. My work is always valuable and always good. Importance in life depends on your standard of values."

Mankind may find true happiness in the humblest tasks when the proper set of Christian values is used. We all need to be important and are important in the sight of God. Each one should be bringing happiness to others and finding joy within through the outreach of helpfulness. Service is its own declaration of faith in man and in God.

Imagine with me for a moment what it was like that first Christmas Eve, the night Jesus left heaven to go down to earth. Like any boy leaving home, Jesus left heaven. Perhaps the Father said something like this to him, "Now, Son, I’ve got to send you down to earth because my people have really messed things up. They are unhappy. Many are lonely and down on themselves. I want you to go down to give them new hope and to provide a way for their sins to be forgiven so that we can all get back together again."

So Jesus walked to the door of heaven, but before descending he turned and asked, "Father, what will I tell them?" And the good Heavenly Father put his arms around his Son and said, "When you get down there, all you need to do is tell them that I love them. That is all. Just tell them that I love them."

At Christmas all of us gladly hear these words of love: "For unto you," the angel said, "is born ... a Savior." He is ours, each one of us individually. In Christ the Father says, "I love you, Bill. I love you, Barbara. I love you, Jim, Bob, Peggy, Marge. I sent my Son unto you, Ralph, Betty, Fred." The baby Jesus is the Father’s message of love for each of us individually.

Listen carefully for the Good News God has for each one of you personally. Three simple, powerful, wonderful words, "I love you." Everyone presently having a hard time - remember that you are not alone: God loves you. Everyone feeling lonely or grieving should know that you are not alone, for God loves you. Everyone afraid of tomorrow and what the future might bring, you are not alone, God loves you.

"For unto you is born a Savior." "Unto you," the angel said. Oh, let the meaning of a personal Savior, Jesus, the Babe of Bethlehem, crash in upon your heart and your entire being. There is Good News for you, the Lord of the entire universe loves you personally. For Emmanuel, God with us, is truly with us. Rejoice and give thanks over God’s gift of love to you. Receive him and the peace of God the angels sang about that first Christmas will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus until life everlasting.

Many years ago, missionary Bob Roberts was a guest speaker in a church. In this service he was sharing his burden for hungry children in the Philippines. Afterwards a young boy, about seven years old, came up to him and said, "Jesus spoke to me tonight while you were telling us about the hungry children . . . When you said that for a quarter a day you could feed a child and give him a vitamin, I thought, I've got to help. But I didn't know how I could. That's when Jesus spoke to me." The lad extended his hand and said, "This is my shell collection. I believe Jesus wants me to give these shells to help the children."  With those words, he placed the shells in Roberts' hand. Roberts accepted the shells, but he wondered how they could help hungry children.

A few weeks later, Roberts spoke to another congregation. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the seashells and told about that boy and his desire to feed hungry children. At the end of the service, a man approached Roberts and said, "I would like to purchase those shells for $100!"

Bob Roberts added this comment, "My freckle-faced friend may never know that his sacrificial offering provided 400 meals for Filipino children. He may not have understood how the Lord would use this small gift to feed the hungry, but he knew God wanted him to give what he had…"

God came to the rich man who had to build bigger barns to hold his goods and said, "You fool!" He was foolish, wasn't he? We all need to learn to live more simply, we need to evaluate our level of giving, and we need to understand that the extent of our giving is the most accurate gauge we have of the authenticity of our faith. Jesus said it best, of course, "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

Maybe we need to rethink sin. Maybe we need to think of sin in broader categories than just "bad things done" or "good things left undone." Maybe the most uncomplicated definition of sin we could give would be our inclination to take the easy way out.

Our gospel text for today offers a good way to assess our new definition. The devil offers Jesus temptations which seem, on the surface, harmless enough. They are certainly not temptations to do evil. The devil is just encouraging Jesus to take the easy road in order to show the world that he really is the Son of God. Look, again, at these "harmless" temptations.

"Command this stone to become a loaf of bread." Temptation number one. Not a bad idea, really. Think about it. A lot of good could come from such a move. Changing stones to bread could move the world in a giant leap toward feeding the hungry masses. Thousands of lives could be saved. Isn't that worth some consideration? Think of the children we see with distended bellies. Think of the mothers who are too weak to feed their own children. Bread-making from stones could feed the world. Isn't God concerned with the hungry?

Or what about that second temptation? "Worship me," says the devil, "and to you I will give all authority over all earthly kingdoms."

Now, don't dismiss this one too quickly, either. There are some real possibilities here. Think about what it would mean if Jesus really were in charge around here. If Jesus had control, there would be no need for nuclear weapons of destruction. Wealth and resources would be shared more equitably. We wouldn't need a United Nations Peace Keeping Force to ensure the fair sharing of food supplies. It would be done, by Jesus, who had the power to make it happen. It's a plan that deserves some thought.

And what about that third temptation? "Jesus, throw yourself down from here" and let God perform a dramatic rescue. Again, think of the consequences. If Jesus did this, it would show that God can be manipulated to do what we want and what we need. It would show us once and for all that he really is here for us. And think of the consequences for Jesus' following.

Do you see the point of these three examples? The temptations were so subtle. And we could easily rationalize the outcomes! These "harmless" temptations could lead to Jesus being King of the World immediately and easily -- no more preaching to crowds on hillsides or by lakes, no more healing all those sick bodies, no more teaching to those who seem not to understand, and, most important of all, no cross to bear. It would have been the easy way out and it would have lead away from Calvary and death – but it also would have led away from Easter morning, and an empty tomb, and the death of death and sin, and the end of that real kingdom Jesus tried so desperately to explain to his followers.

The temptation of Jesus was to choose another way other than the cross. Maybe ... maybe that is our temptation too.

The greatest story of all time begins as silently as a single snowflake slowly drifting down into a quiet forest at midnight. "And in that region there were shepherds out in the fields keeping watch over their flock by night." Imagine the feeling of those shepherds as the sky filled with angels singing, "Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace, good will toward men." No wonder they "came to the manger with haste" and arriving there they found the Holy Family. On the faces of our Lord’s parents was wonder and reverence mixed with gratitude and joy.

In the Ozark Mountains, I am told, there is an old legend that at midnight on Christmas Eve the cattle kneel in adoration of the Savior who came into their stable so many years ago. A part of the legend, however, is that they will not kneel if any human being is watching. That, of course, makes the story safe from prying, scientific eyes. We shall never be able to prove it or disprove it with our senses. But isn’t that the way Christmas is ... an intimate and ultimate experience which is forever beyond the eyes of proud minds.

Only the cattle know if they really kneel to the Savior at midnight - as only we ourselves know in the deepest regions of our hearts whether we too are really there at the manger. Christmas is kneeling time for the entire earth as the eyes of faith-filled hearts look upon the only-begotten Son of the Father. And as we look, our hard and distraught faces melt into expressions of joy and adoration. For those who kneel at the manger rise again, filled with the love of God which brings peace and joy to their lives.

How often has each of us struggled over an important decision? We considered the variety of alternatives; often we discussed the decision with our family and friends. Sometimes we prayed over it and sought God’s direction. "What would God want me to do?" we asked ourselves.

Unfortunately, there is much confusion about the subject of the will of God. The words, "It is the will of God," are used too freely. A catastrophe happens and people say glibly, "It’s his will." We sometimes do inappropriate things and pass them off by saying God willed that we did it. Many talk about searching for the will of God as if it were somehow lost and needed to be found.

First and foremost in God’s will is that all people be saved. The Bible tells us that God wills all people to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth. Throughout Scripture we find God desiring that everyone have the joy of Jesus as their Lord and Savior. To not have Jesus is to be firmly in sin’s control ... to have faith in the Son of God is to be alive to our full creative potential as he controls our lives. Through a cross and a vacant grave our salvation has been secured. Jesus, unlike any of the gods in other religions, is a personal God, and those who know him personally will be well on their way to know the Father’s will. To have said, "I believe in Jesus Christ as my Savior" is to have taken the first step.

Our second step in knowing the will of God is to be Spirit-filled. In Ephesians 5:17 we read, "Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is." To not be willing to understand the will of the Lord is to be foolish. Now what is the will? We continue to read in verse 18, "And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery; but be filled with the Spirit." Now most of us are at least qualified to discuss what it’s like to be filled with wine or some other spirited liquid. To be drunk is to be controlled by the agent within. We act differently when we have the spirit within us. Likewise to be filled with the Holy Spirit is to be controlled also by an agent within. We have no more control over ourselves than we would have if we were drunk with alcohol. To be filled in the Spirit is to be dominated and controlled by the Spirit.

The third and final step in discovering the will of God for our lives you’re really going to like; you’ll eat it up. It is to do whatever you want to do. That’s right. Do what you want when you have a decision to make. In the Book of Psalms we read, "Delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart." Notice that it says the desires of our hearts are given to us by God when we delight in him. God puts the desire in our hearts so that what we want is really what God wants. His will becomes our will, and conversely, our will is his will. The third step is possible when we have taken the first step of believing and the second of being filled by the Holy Spirit. Having taken the first two steps and having become well-versed in Scripture, we follow our desires (really God’s) and live according to his will. We set out in life without fear, and as we make our way, he provides us with the necessary corrections along the course.

Coming home late one rainy evening, I was short on patience and a bit uptight. It was the pressures of ministry with too much to do and too little time to do it. That evening, I had planned to write a sermon on the joys of discipleship! As I began, I realized I needed a better frame of mind ... more joy in my own discipleship.

As I reflected on the topic, I was reminded that joy is neither something to be tied into weather, nor tied into a work schedule. There is no such thing as more joy-less work, more work-less joy. Christian joy should not be affected by wages: large raise - great joy, no raise - no joy. Joy in discipleship is something that transcends the ups and downs of living. It must be bigger than the shifting sands of existence.

Turning to the Bible, we see what it has to say about joy and its source. It says that there is fullness of joy in the presence of God. Real joy comes from moving into the presence of God and abiding in the love of Christ. When the spirit of God is alive in us, one of the blessings the spirit brings to us is joy.

A Japanese lady asked the headmistress of a mission school, "Do you take only beautiful girls in your school?"

"Why, no, we welcome all girls," was the reply.

"But I’ve noticed that all your girls are beautiful."

"Well," said the missionary, "we teach them to love our Savior Jesus Christ, and he gives them a look of beauty."

"I am a Buddhist, and I do not desire my daughter to become a Christian, yet I should like her to attend your school to get that look on her face."

Recently a distinguished Britisher said that he visited an American home that seemed to have everything - two cars in the garage, a beautiful living room with expensive furniture, a color TV set, a kitchen filled with the latest gadgets, and a large pool and beautiful patio. However, the lady of the house was reading a book entitled, How to Be Happy.

Happiness is to know the Savior. Joy in discipleship is not attachment to things but is attachment to Jesus. This is why Paul and Silas, after being beaten and thrown into prison, could pray and sing hymns to God and thereby witness to the prisoners who listened to them. Joy is a sign of the presence of God in one’s life. To be a disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ is to experience a deeper level of joy.

Christianity is a religion of joy and excitement. There is nothing unhappy about it. It is for people who want the joy that comes from being involved in something worthwhile. Once you taste the joys of discipleship, you’ll notice that your life will have more meaning. You will even want to return for a second helping.

Some of us can learn mercy by reading about it in the Bible. Many more of us, however, learn mercy by taking the plunge and doing it.

Such was the case with Sister Helen Prejean. Her story is told in the book Dead Man Walking, which recently came out in film. Sister Helen hears one day of a correspondence program with prisoners on death row. She decides to participate and begins writing, even though she's been told not to expect to hear anything in return. Much to her surprise, though, one of the prisoners does respond and catches her completely off guard by asking her to be his spiritual guide. Apparently his execution date was fast approaching, and he wanted some representative of God to be there for support over the next several weeks.

Sister Helen hesitates. It is one thing to do charity long distance. It is quite another thing to do mercy face to face with a convicted murderer. Gary had been sentenced to death by lethal injection for participating in the brutal rape of a young woman and the subsequent murder of both her and her finance. Sister Helen recoils at the very thought of meeting this rapist and murderer, let alone ministering to him. But a voice deep inside of her tells her she must go. So she does. The first several meetings are difficult. Gary comes across a whole lot more cocky and arrogant in person than he did in his letters. He refuses to admit his guilt and insists that he is the innocent victim of a corrupt legal system.

To make matters worse, Sister Helen is despised and publicly villified by the victims' parents for even spending time with Gary. How could she, a deeply religious nun, befriend this cold-blooded murderer! They are horrified and let her know that every time they see her. And yet, despite these difficult barriers, Sister Helen risks her name, her reputation, her own safety, to reach across them and embrace Gary with the love of God. And the more she perseveres in loving him, the more his defenses begin to crumble. Finally on the night before his execution, Gary confesses to his crime and asks for God's forgiveness. In a flood of tears, he thanks Sister Helen for all her love and support. He then tries to send her home, insisting that her work with him is done and that he is now ready to meet his Maker.

"No, that's okay," she responds. "I'll stay through the execution."

"But why?" Gary wants to know. "I'm only getting what I deserve."

"Because," she replies, "the last face I want you to see before you die is not one of hatred and vengeance, but one of love and mercy."

The next morning, Gary is strapped into place while Sister Helen and the victims' parents watch through the window of an adjacent room. Within a matter of minutes, the last lethal dose is injected and Gary is pronounced dead. Most of the by-standers breathe a sigh of relief. Some even begin to applaud. But Sister Helen alone stands there - with arms reaching out to Gary and a look of pure mercy on her face.

Some of us learn mercy by reading about it in our Bibles. But most of us, like Sister Helen Prejean, learn mercy by just doing it to those who least deserve it - to those who are unclean, who are despised and rejected by society. Learning Mercy . . .

'God's in His Heaven, all's right with the world,' Robert Browning wrote, and the psalm is not saying that any more than you or I can say it either. Whoever wrote it had walked through the valley of the shadow the way one way or another you and I have walked there too. He says so himself. He believed that God was in his Heaven despite the fact that he knew as well as we do that all was far from right with the world. And he believed that God was like a shepherd.

When I think of shepherds, I think of one man in particular I know who used to keep sheep here in Rupert a few years back. Some of them he gave names to, and some of them he didn't, but he knew then equally well either way. If one of them got lost, he didn't have a moment's peace till he found it again. If one of them got sick or hurt, he would move Heaven and earth to get it well again. He would feed them out of a bottle when they were new-born lambs if for some reason the mother wasn't around or wouldn't 'own' them, as he put it. He always called them in at the end of the day so the wild dogs wouldn't get them.

I've seen him wade through snow up to his knees with a bale of hay in each hand to feed them on bitter cold winter evenings, shaking it out and putting it in the manger. I've stood with him in their shed with a forty watt bulb hanging down from the low ceiling to light up their timid, greedy, foolish, half holy faces as they pushed and butted each other to get at it because if God is like a shepherd, there are more than just a few ways, needless to say, that people like you and me are like sheep. Being timid, greedy, foolish, and half holy is only part of it. Like sheep we get hungry, and hungry for more than just food. We get thirsty for more than just drink. Our souls get hungry and thirsty; in fact it is often that sense of inner emptiness that makes us know we have souls in the first place.

There is nothing that the world has to give us, there is nothing that we have to give to each other even, that ever quite fills them. But once in a while that inner emptiness is filled even so. That is part of what the psalm means by saying that God is like a shepherd, I think. It means that, like a shepherd, he feeds us. He feeds that part of us which is hungriest and most in need of feeding.

"We have four new kittens at our house and all different colors. Would you like to have one?" asked Jennie.

"Yes, I would," said Mary, "but I will have to ask my mother and she doesn't like cats."

"I would like to keep one myself," said Jennie, "but Dad says, if I don't give them away, he will drown them. He doesn't want any more cats around. Billy is going to take one, but the other three still need a home. I do so want them all to have a good home, where they'll feed them well and treat them nicely."

"Jennie, you act like you're their mother."

"Well, I know I'm not their mother, but I can't see anyone go hungry. I don't see how anyone would want to drown a poor little kitten.'

Tender-hearted children can be shown loving concern and ways of mercy. Kindness will come easily to them. It is only when children are mistreated and given a miserable example of cruelty and hate and prejudice that meanness takes over.

We ought to be concerned with all children of all races and creeds -- especially where there is need. Good homes could be found for many children, would adults put in the same effort as Jennie was doing for the kittens.

Christians ought to rejoice that thousands are being cared for in mercy and in love. Wherever the cause of the hungry and needy is being benefited, there should be thanksgiving. Christians are called to the noble service of others and should readily respond to the blessing of all mankind.

"Those who choose evil shall have their choice. Men who hate divine mercy shall not have it forced upon them, but (unless sovereign grace interpose) shall be left to themselves to aggravate their guilt and ensure their doom.

"They have loved darkness rather than light, and in darkness they shall abide. Eyes which see no beauty in the Lord Jesus, but flash wrath upon Him, may well grow yet more dim, till death which is spiritual leads to death which is eternal.

"What can be too severe a penalty for those who reject the incarnate God, and refuse to obey the commands of His mercy? They deserve to be flooded with wrath, and they shall be; for upon all who rebel against the Savior, 'wrath has come upon them to the uttermost' (I Thessalonians 2:16).

"God's indignation is no trifle. The anger of a holy, just, omnipotent, and infinite Being, is above all things to be dreaded; even a drop of it consumes, but to have it poured upon us is inconceivably dreadful."

One of my all time favorite Christmas hymns is "O Little Town of Bethlehem." It has been around since 1868. It is packed with emotion, a song about the Christ Child, born to Mary, a song filled with the creative power of God intervening in history with the gift of a savior. It's a story where the divine and the human come together in an amazing but humble way. 

What might surprise you is how this great hymn came to be. It was written by Phillips Brooks, Episcopal priest. Brooks was serving the Holy Trinity Church in the City of Brotherly Love (Philadelphia, PA). He had just returned from a trip to The Holy Land which inspired him to write the words. "When he returned to America he still had Palestine singing in his soul." (from Stories of Christmas Carols by Ernest K. Emurian, Baker Book House Co., page 97)

Brooks was a bachelor. His church organist and Sunday School superintendent, Lewis Redner was also a bachelor and Brooks gave the words to him and asked him to create a tune for the upcoming Christmas celebration. Redner procrastinated and struggled with the creation of a tune to go with the 5 stanzas that Brooks had written. It wasn't until the night before the celebration that Redner got inspired in the middle of the night and created the song as we know it. The following day a group of 36 children and 6 Sunday school teachers introduced the song created by the 2 bachelors. That was on December 27th, 1868. It wasn't published as an official hymn of the Episcopal Church until 1892. The following January, Phillips Brooks died, never knowing the magnitude of the hymn that he created.

For some reason the 5th stanza has been dropped from the original score."Where children pure and happy Pray to the blessed Child, Where misery cries out to thee, Son of the mother mild; Where charity stands watching And faith holds wide the door, The dark night wakes, the glory breaks, And Christmas comes once more." The stanza includes the line, "And faith holds wide the door."

This hymn, like the story of the annunciation of Mary in the gospel of Luke, is a story about faith.

The word "humility" means literally a low estimate of self. But this does not imply self-deprecation. When you hear someone deprecating himself, usually you can put it down as a sort of counterfeit humility. Someone has said, "The true way to be humble is not to stoop until you are smaller than yourself, but to stand at your full height before some higher nature that will show you how small your greatness is." "Walk humbly with thy God." Here is where we learn true humility. Walking with God, seeing ourselves by the side of His greatness, we see how little we are. And seeing how little we are is the first step toward becoming what we can and ought to be.

We never become truly great, we never do our best work until we are "clothed with humility"; until, like our Lord and Savior, we are willing to live to serve others.

John Newton, who wrote the hymn Amazing Grace back in 1779 certainly identified with the younger son, the son who wasted his inheritance. As a young man he left home and went to sea and there lived wildly and free. Like many people who abandon God, he was highly critical of the Christian faith, and spent much time tearing down the faith of the people he met as he went from place to place. It was only in later years that he realized that he had wasted his young life, and indeed not only wasted it - but in all that time he had been offensive to God and to all God-fearing people. And like the young prodigal, he repented and sought, in humility and submissiveness, to serve God for the rest of his days.

His resulting experience of God's forgiveness, of God's grace, is not only described well in the emotion packed words of the song he wrote, it is also to be found in his epitaph, an epitaph he himself wrote shortly before his death in 1807. He describes himself and his experience of God this way: "John Newton, clerk, once an infidel and libertine, was by the rich mercy of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, preserved, restored, pardoned, and appointed to preach the faith he had long labored to destroy."

A mother once approached Napoleon seeking a pardon for her son. The emperor replied that the young man had committed a certain offense twice and justice demanded death.

"But I don't ask for justice," the mother explained. "I plead for mercy."

"But your son does not deserve mercy," Napoleon replied.

"Sir," the woman cried, "it would not be mercy if he deserved it, and mercy is all I ask for."

"Well, then," the emperor said, "I will have mercy." And he spared the woman's son.

In a cathedral in Copenhagen, Denmark, there is a magnificent statue of Jesus by the noted sculptor Bertel Thorvaldsen. When Thorvaldsen first completed the sculpture he gazed upon the finished product with great satisfaction. It was a sculpture of Christ with face looking upward and arms extended upward. It was a statue of a majestic, conquering Christ.

Later that night, however, after the sculptor had left his fine new work in clay to dry and harden, something unexpected occurred. Sea mist seeped into the studio in the night. The clay did not harden as quickly as anticipated. The upraised arms and head of the sculpture began to drop. The majestic Christ with arms lifted up and head thrown back was transformed into a Christ with head bent forward and arms stretched downward as if in a pose of gentle invitation. At first Thorvaldsen was bitterly disappointed. As he studied the transformed sculpture, however, he came to see a dimension of Christ that had not been real to him before. It was the Christ who is a gently, merciful Savior. Thorvaldsen inscribed on the base of the completed statue, "Come Unto Me," and that picture of the Lamb of God in his mercy has inspired millions.

Shortly after the turn of the century, Japan invaded, conquered, and occupied Korea. Of all of their oppressors, Japan was the most ruthless. They overwhelmed the Koreans with a brutality that would sicken the strongest of stomachs. Their crimes against women and children were inhuman. Many Koreans live today with the physical and emotional scars from the Japanese occupation.

One group singled out for concentrated oppression was the Christians. When the Japanese army overpowered Korea one of the first things they did was board up the evangelical churches and eject most foreign missionaries. It has always fascinated me how people fail to learn from history. Conquering nations have consistently felt that shutting up churches would shut down Christianity. It didn't work in Rome when the church was established, and it hasn't worked since. Yet somehow the Japanese thought they would have a different success record.

The conquerors started by refusing to allow churches to meet and jailing many of the key Christian spokesmen. The oppression intensified as the Japanese military increased its profile in the South Pacific. The "Land of the Rising Sum" spread its influence through a reign of savage brutality. Anguish filled the hearts of the oppressed and kindled hatred deep in their souls.

One pastor persistently entreated his local Japanese police chief for permission to meet for services. His nagging was finally accommodated, and the police chief offered to unlock his church ... for one meeting. It didn't take long for word to travel. Committed Christians starving for an opportunity for unhindered worship quickly made their plans. Long before dawn on that promised Sunday, Korean families throughout a wide area made their way to the church. They passed the staring eyes of their Japanese captors, but nothing was going to steal their joy. As they closed the doors behind them they shut out the cares of oppression and shut in a burning spirit anxious to glorify their Lord.

The Korean church has always had a reputation as a singing church. Their voices of praise could not be concealed inside the little wooden frame sanctuary. Song after song rang through the open windows into the bright Sunday morning. For a handful of peasants listening nearby, the last two songs this congregation sang seemed suspended in time. It was during a stanza of "Nearer My God to Thee" that the Japanese police chief waiting outside gave the orders. The people toward the back of the church could hear them when they barricaded the doors, but no one realized that they had doused the church with kerosene until they smelled the smoke. The dried wooden skin of the small church quickly ignited. Fumes filled the structure as tongues of flame began to lick the baseboard on the interior walls. There was an immediate rush for the windows. But momentary hope recoiled in horror as the men climbing out the windows came crashing back in their bodies ripped by a hail of bullets.

The good pastor knew it was the end. With a calm that comes from confidence, he led his congregation in a hymn whose words served as a fitting farewell to earth and a loving salutation to heaven. The first few words were all the prompting the terrified worshipers needed. With smoke burning their eyes, they instantly joined as one to sing their hope and leave their legacy. Their song became a serenade to the horrified and helpless witnesses outside. Their words also tugged at the hearts of the cruel men who oversaw this flaming execution of the innocent.

Alas! and did my Savior bleed?
and did my Sovereign die?
Would he devote that sacred head
for such a worm as I?
Just before the roof collapsed they sang the last verse,
their words an eternal testimony to their faith.
But drops of grief can ne'er repay
the debt of love I owe:
Here, Lord, I give myself away
'Tis all that I can do!
At the cross, at the cross
Where I first saw the light,
And the burden of my heart rolled away
It was there by faith I received my sight,
And now I am happy all the day.

The strains of music and wails of children were lost in a roar of flames. The elements that once formed bone and flesh mixed with the smoke and dissipated into the air. The bodies that once housed life fused with the charred rubble of a building that once housed a church. But the souls who left singing finished their chorus in the throne room of God. Clearing the incinerated remains was the easy part. Erasing the hate would take decades. For some of the relatives of the victims, this carnage was too much. Evil had stooped to a new low, and there seemed to be no way to curb their bitter loathing of the Japanese.

In the decades that followed, that bitterness was passed on to a new generation. The Japanese, although conquered, remained a hated enemy. The monument the Koreans built at the location of the fire not only memorialized the people who died, but stood as a mute reminder of their pain.

Inner rest? How could rest coexist with a bitterness deep as marrow in the bones? Suffering, of course, is a part of life. People hurt people. Almost all of us have experienced it at some time. Maybe you felt it when you came home to find that your spouse had abandoned you, or when your integrity was destroyed by a series of well-timed lies, or when your company was bled dry by a partner. It kills you inside. Bitterness clamps down on your soul like iron shackles.

The Korean people who found it too hard to forgive could not enjoy the "peace that passes all understanding." Hatred choked their joy.

It wasn't until 1972 that any hope came. A group of Japanese pastors traveling through Korea came upon the memorial. When they read the details of the tragedy and the names of the spiritual brothers and sisters who had perished, they were overcome with shame. Their country had sinned, and even though none of them were personally involved (some were not even born at the time of the tragedy), they still felt a national guilt that could not be excused. They returned to Japan committed to right a wrong. There was an immediate outpouring of love from their fellow believers. They raised ten million yen ($25,000). The money was transferred through proper channels and a beautiful white church building was erected on the sight of the tragedy. When the dedication service for the new building was held, a delegation from Japan joined the relatives and special guests.

Although their generosity was acknowledged and their attempts at making peace appreciated, the memories were still there. Hatred preserves pain. It keeps the wounds open and the hurts fresh. The Koreans' bitterness had festered for decades. Christian brothers or not, these Japanese were descendants of a ruthless enemy. The speeches were made, the details of the tragedy recalled, and the names of the dead honored. It was time to bring the service to a close. Someone in charge of the agenda thought it would be appropriate to conclude with the same two songs that were sung the day the church was burned.  The song leader began the words to "Nearer My God to Thee."

But something remarkable happened as the voices mingled on the familiar melody. As the memories of the past mixed with the truth of the song, resistance started to melt. The inspiration that gave hope to a doomed collection of churchgoers in a past generation gave hope once more. The song leader closed the service with the hymn "At the Cross." The normally stoic Japanese could not contain themselves. The tears that began to fill their eyes during the song suddenly gushed from deep inside. They turned to their Korean spiritual relatives and begged them to forgive. The guarded, calloused hearts of the Koreans were not quick to surrender. But the love of the Japanese believers not intimidated by decades of hatred tore at the Koreans' emotions.

At the cross, at the cross
Where I first saw the light,
And the burden of my heart rolled away ...

One Korean turned toward a Japanese brother. Then another. And then the floodgates holding back a wave of emotion let go. The Koreans met their new Japanese friends in the middle. They clung to each other and wept. Japanese tears of repentance and Korean tears of forgiveness intermingled to bathe the site of an old nightmare. Heaven had sent the gift of reconciliation to a little white church in Korea.

The story is told of a man who was caught and taken to court because he had stolen a loaf of bread. When the judge investigated, he found out that the man had no job, and his family was hungry. He had tried unsuccessfully to get work and finally, to feed his family, he had stolen a loaf of bread. Although recognizing the extenuating circumstances, the judge said, “I’m sorry, but the law can make no exceptions. You stole, and therefore I have to punish you. I order you to pay a fine of ten dollars.” He then continued, “But I want to pay the fine myself.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a ten-dollar bill, and handed it to the man.

As soon as the man took the money, the judge said, “Now I also want to remit the fine.” That is, the man could keep the money. “Furthermore, I am going to instruct the bailiff to pass around a hat to everyone in this courtroom, and I am fining everyone in this courtroom fifty cents for living in a city where a man has to steal in order to have bread to eat.” The money was collected and given to the defendant.

This is an excellent example of justice being meted out in full and paid in full—while mercy and grace were also enacted in full measure.

There is a legend told of a mother who sought from Napoleon the pardon of her son. The emperor said it was the man’s second offense, and justice demanded his death. “I don’t ask for justice,” said the mother. “I plead for mercy.”

“But,” said the emperor, “he does not deserve mercy.”

“Sir,” cried the mother, “it would not be mercy if he deserved it, and mercy is all I ask.”

“Well, then,” said the emperor, “I will show mercy.” And her son was saved.

The classic quote on mercy is that of Portia in Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice, Act IV, Scene I, lines 186-197.

The quality of mercy is not strain'd
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: It is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than its crown;
His scepter shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings;
It is an attribute to God himself,·
And earthly power doth then show likest
God's When mercy seasons justice.

When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among brothers,
To make music in the heart.

In a Danish village there was a Lutheran Church where each Sunday the people would walk into the church by way of the center aisle. At the front of the church, there was a break between the pews and a blank white wall. Every Sunday, the people of that church would walk down the center aisle to the front of the church and genuflect at the blank wall. A man visiting the church did not understand what the people were doing; when he asked them they said that they had always done this. Upon further investigation, he learned that hundreds of years before there had been a painting of the Virgin Mary on that wall. At the time of the Protestant Reformation when the church became Lutheran they had painted over the display of the Virgin Mary. Since the people had always bowed before the Virgin Mary, they just kept on bowing even though there was nothing there.

There are many people in church who simply go through the routine Sunday after Sunday. They know all the prayers by heart and could go through the entire service without ever opening the hymnal. For some that is all it has ever been. They do it because they have always done it that way before. But God wants to move beyond the routine. He wants the gospel to become so real that we confess with our own lips that Jesus is our Lord and Savior. God wants his love to be routine no longer but to be very real in our lives.

Adapted by Leith Anderson, A Church for the 21st Century (Minneapolis: Bethany House Publishers), p. 145.

JC = PJP is the formula for a happy and successful life. The formula begins with a few shepherds and a suddenly-appearing angel who tells them of a wonderful event happening in Bethlehem. In this nondescript place, the Savior, Jesus Christ, is being born. The angel is now joined by the armies of heaven praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace, good will toward men."

Peace came to earth as the Son of God struggled out of a human womb. God became man. The Prince of Peace was born. That peace can now become ours. For peace is to know Christ is mine and all is well.

Yes JC = P but it also equals J! With Jesus Christ and his peace also comes joy. Christianity is a religion of joy and enthusiasm. There is nothing dull about it! If you cannot stand excitement, it has little to offer you. Long faces and sad eyes are out of place. So if you see someone who does not have a smile, give him one of yours.

Jesus Christ equals Peace! Joy! and also Power! The Bible tells us that we now have the power for doing his will as we wait for the return of our Lord Jesus Christ. Because of this power, Christianity is the religion of great possibilities. Saint Luke writes, "The things which are impossible with men are possible with God." When we know Jesus, even the impossible can become a possibility for our lives.

A successful and a happy life is one in which the Holy Spirit works the formula JC = PJP. For in Jesus Christ we can have the peace of God that the angels sang about. In Jesus Christ we can have great joy enabling us to sing all the way through life. In Jesus Christ we can have the power of God that even makes the impossible, possible.

There was a man in England who put his Rolls-Royce on a boat and went across to the continent to go on a holiday. While he was driving around Europe, something happened to the motor of his car. He cabled the Rolls-Royce people back in England and asked, "I'm having trouble with my car; what do you suggest I do?" Well, the Rolls-Royce people flew a mechanic over! The mechanic repaired the car and flew back to England and left the man to continue his holiday. As you can imagine, the fellow was wondering, "How much is this going to cost me?" So when he got back to England, he wrote the people a letter and asked how much he owed them. He received a letter from the office that read: "Dear Sir: There is no record anywhere in our files that anything ever went wrong with a Rolls-Royce."

Did Christ finish His work? How dangerous it is to join anything of our own to the righteousness of Christ, in pursuit of justification before God! Jesus Christ will never endure this; it reflects upon His work dishonorably. He will be all, or none, in our justification. If He has finished the work, what need is there of our additions? And if not, to what purpose are they? Can we finish that which Christ Himself could not complete? Did He finish the work, and will He ever divide the glory and praise of it with us? No, no; Christ is no half-Savior. It is a hard thing to bring proud hearts to rest upon Christ for righteousness. God humbles the proud by calling sinners wholly from their own righteousness to Christ for their justification.

The biography, Norma, is the story of well-known singer for Lawrence Welk, Norma Zimmer. One of the more poignant aspects of her story is that of her teen years. Her parents were a source of great pain to her because of their drinking. Though these years were difficult for her, she began to find an escape into a better world through singing. As a senior in high school, Norma was invited to become a featured church soloist by Carl A. Pitzer of the University Christian Church in Seattle. When her parents heard she was to sing a solo in church they both insisted they wanted to hear her, though they did not normally attend. She tells the story of that morning:

"I was excited and elated at the prospect of singing again. The choir processed down the middle aisle, and as we walked, I stole glances at the congregation, trying to find my parents.... I couldn’t spot Mom and Dad.

"Then in horror I saw them—weaving down the aisle in a state of disheveled intoxication. They were late. Few empty seats were left. My parents stumbled over the feet of other people to reach a place in the middle of the row. The whole congregation stared. I don't know how I ever got through that morning. The invocation, the congregational hymn, the prayer, the offering—and then I stood up to sing. ‘How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings.’ The song seemed interminable. I tried to think only of the words and kept my eyes from turning to the row where my parents sat.

"I took my seat, my heart pounding, my cheeks burning. Dr. Hastings started to preach. At first, I hardly heard him. Then his words reached me, ‘God is our refuge and strength, a tested help in time of trouble.’

"My own trouble seemed to bear down on me with tremendous weight that morning. I felt I had more than my share of grief, and I knew I needed help. I realized how desperate life in our family was without God, and that day I recommitted my life to Him. As Dr. Hastings preached that morning, Jesus came into my life nor only as Savior but for daily strength and direction."

In October 1987, one year old Jessica McClure of Midland, Texas fell down an abandoned well. She was found on a ledge 22 feet below the surface. There she was, crying for her mother, in the cold darkness of this well. Her plight captured the attention of the entire nation. The people of the town gathered to rescue her. Hour after hour for two and a half days they worked. Federal Express flew down a special drill bit to aid in the rescue. You may remember the hour that she was rescued. It was on a Friday night when the TV images broke in to show the dramatic pictures. Anyone who did not have a tear in their eye when that little child was pulled out is hopeless. Saved, thank God, she was saved.

Friends, each one of us are in the same condition morally and spiritually as that little girl. We have fallen into the darkness of sin and there we are trapped. We cannot extradite ourselves, although the tragedy is that we think that we can. Someone must dig and dig until we are released from this darkness and despair. What we need is a Savior.  That is what Jesus did for us on the cross. By his death he redeemed us from the consequences of sin. In Christ, God did for us what we would never have been able to do for ourselves.

Evangelist Paul Rader had many a talk with a banker in New York. The banker would reply that he was too busy for religion. Time passed and the banker, seriously overworked, was sent to a sanatorium for complete rest. One day God spoke to Paul Rader; the message was clear: "Go and speak to ..." Rader obeyed, catching a train and going with all speed to the sumptuous sanatorium.

Arriving at the facility, Rader saw the banker standing in the doorway. "Oh, Rader," said the banker, "I am so glad to see you."

"I received your telegram," said Rader.

"That's impossible," said the banker. "I wrote a telegram begging you to come, but I tore it up. I didn't sent it."

"That may be," said Rader, "but your message came by way of Heaven."

Paul Rader found his friend under deep conviction of sin and he pointed him to Christ as a perfect Savior. That man accepted Christ and his heart was filled with joy. "Rader," he said, "did you ever see the sky so blue or the grass so green?"

Rader replied, "Sometimes we sing"

'Heaven above is softer blue,
Earth around is sweeter green;
Something lives in every hue
Christ-less eyes have never seen.'"

Suddenly the banker leaned against Paul Rader and fell into his arms, dead.

A marshal in Napoleon's army, a man who was devotedly and enthusiastically attached to him, was mortally wounded in battle. As the last struggle drew near and he lay dying in his tent, he sent for his chief. Napoleon came. The poor man thought his emperor could do anything. Perhaps he even sought to put him in the place of God. So he earnestly pleaded with his leader to save his life. The emperor sadly shook his head and turned away. But as the dying man felt the cold, merciless hand of death drawing him irresistibly behind the curtain of the unseen world, he was still heard to shriek out, "Save me, Napoleon! Save me!" In the hour of death, that soldier discovered that even the powerful Napoleon could not give him physical life.

So often in our world, when we are in peril, we reach out to the earthly powers around us who cannot help us, instead of to the Lord God our Savior, who can save and heal us.

A man was packing a shipment of food for the poor people of Appalachia. He was separating beans from powdered milk, and canned vegetables from canned meats. Reaching into a box filled with various cans, he pulled out a little brown paper sack. Apparently one of the pupils had brought something different from the items on the suggested list. Out of the paper bag fell a peanut butter sandwich, an apple, and a cookie. Crayoned in large letters was a little girl's name, 'Christy Room 104.' She had given up her lunch for some hungry person.

Jesus says to us, "You feed them!" This is an incredibly rich world. We are rich people and we serve a rich God. "You feed them!"

I want to share a little essay that one inspired author wrote about his cat. It’s titled “Of Cats and People” and it was shared via a website called www.laughandlift.com. It’s by Michael Newnham:

“Lord, this cat you gave me . . . she just doesn’t listen. I told her the rains were coming . . . she goes out anyway and comes back soaked. I told her not to lie in weeds . . . yet every day she comes in and expects me to pull all the stickers out of her fur . . . from lying in the weeds. I told her that as much as it’s up to her to be at peace with all cats . . . yet she expects me to tend to her wounds from the fights she is always in.

“She embarrasses me in front of the neighbors by instigating disputes with their cats . . . she thinks she owns the whole block. She is constantly doing what she ought not to do and suffering the consequences. Worse, she seems to blame all her misfortunes on me . . . at least she expects me to deal with all the results of her disobedience. I always do, but she never seems to learn. Furthermore, Lord . . . she has never missed a meal, but when she’s hungry she yowls as if she hasn’t had a meal in weeks.

“She makes it sound as if I’m a negligent and cruel father. The truth is that I always feed her and even give her treats. Just wanted you to know . . . To top it all off, she is often distant and ignores me until she wants attention or me to provide something. This cat makes me feel used. Sometimes I wonder if she loves me, or just loves what I can give her. It’s a pretty one-sided relationship. Despite all of this, I love the cat and I’ve chosen to keep her. Lord, that makes no sense, but I know you’ll understand . . .” Then the author adds this note: “Make your own application.”

What’s that all about? Could he be saying that cats and people are not all that different from one another, but still the Father loves us?

It is small wonder that the image of the shepherd was frequently upon the lips of the savior. It was a part of his heritage and culture. Abraham, the father of the nation, was the keeper of great flocks. Moses was tending the flocks of his father-in-law, Jethro, when God called him into a special service. David was a shepherd boy called in from the fields to be the King of Israel.

The imagery of the shepherd was also imprinted upon the literature of the day. The 23rd Psalm is frequently referred to as the shepherd psalm. "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside still waters."

When Isaiah spoke of the coming of the Messiah he worded it by saying: "He will feed his flock like a shepherd! He will gather his lambs into his arms." Yes, the tradition of the shepherd was very much a part of the heritage of Christ.

This picture comes more clearly into focus in the New Testament. Jesus once told a story about a shepherd who had 100 sheep, but one of them went astray. In our way of thinking a 99% return on our investment would be most desirable, but not this shepherd. He left the 99 to go in search of that one lost sheep. Later, when Jesus was speaking to a great throng of people, Mark tells us that he had compassion upon them because they were "as sheep without a shepherd."

Throughout the Judeo-Christian faith, then, the image of the shepherd has been stamped upon our thinking. In our scripture text for this morning Jesus again taps into this imagery when he refers to himself as the good shepherd. For a few moments this morning, I would like for us to examine together what he had in mind when he described himself as the Good Shepherd.

1. First, we have a shepherd that is a genuine shepherd.
2. Second, I think that the Good Shepherd knows his sheep.
3. Third, the Good Shepherd also includes other sheep.
4. Fourth, the shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.

In ancient times it was unthinkable that a messiah, savior, someone who was God or was favored by God, would be crucified by mortal men. The resurrection itself was a great surprise to Jesus' followers, despite everything they saw. They were no different than you and me and struggled - how does an intelligent person believe in a walking dead man?

Frederick Buechner understood this dilemma but he was still certain of the resurrection. He says, "I can tell you this: that what I believe happened and what in faith and with great joy I proclaim to you here is that he somehow got up, with life in him again, and the glory upon him. And I speak very plainly here, very un-fancifully, even though I do not understand well my own language. I was not there to see it any more than I was awake to see the sun rise this morning, but I affirm it as surely as I do that by God's grace the sun did rise this morning because that is why the world is flooded with light."

The Prussian king Frederick the Great was widely known as an agnostic. By contrast, General Von Zealand, one of his most trusted officers, was a devout Christian. Legend has it that during a festive gathering the king began making crude jokes about Christ until everyone was rocking with laughter all but Von Zealand, that is. Finally, he arose and addressed the king: "Sire, you know I have not feared death. I have fought and won 38 battles for you. I am an old man; I shall soon have to go into the presence of One greater than you, the mighty God who saved me from my sin, the Lord Jesus Christ whom you are blaspheming. I salute you, sire, as an old man who loves his Savior, on the edge of eternity." The place went silent, and with a trembling voice the king replied, "General Von Zealand I beg your pardon! I beg your pardon!" And with that the party quietly ended.