Summary: This message explores the mystery of the Incarnation, that we will hopefully never get used to.

Sermon for Advent IV - Love - December 21, 2014

Who here remembers being able to walk around in the light of day at 9 PM? Even 9:30 at night! Well, we’ve all experienced the same thing each day since June 21, the summer solstice. The days have gotten shorter, by about 2 minutes each day.

The darkness has gradually taken over the light. And then, to add insult to injury, we have the wonderful invention of daylight savings time here in Toronto (who’s responsible for that, anyway - we should send a sharply worded letter). In one day it got to be a lot darker a whole lot earlier.

Our cats have no problem moving around in the dark, eating in the dark. But encroaching darkness is a problem for us, who, unlike our cats, tend to stumble, sometimes badly, in the dark.

The early Christians were an inventive lot, a pragmatic crew who loved godly metaphors. When they decided that the Incarnation of God should be celebrated, they chose the time of the year, around the Winter Solstice on December 21, when the light begins to take over the darkness.

They thought, ‘hey, that’s a good time to celebrate the birth of Christ because Jesus is the light of the world. And, hey, there’s this celebration thing going on anyway (referring to pagan celebrations of the winter solstice). Let’s make it a twofor”. So yes, we have a creative, adaptive tradition.

Moving forward a couple of hundred years, we find these words:“The ancient of Days becomes an infant. He Who sits upon the sublime and heavenly Throne, now lies in a manger. And He Who cannot be touched, Who is incorporeal, now lies subject to the hands of men. He Who has broken the bonds of sinners, is now bound by an infants bands. But He has decreed that public shame or disgrace, ignominy, shall become honor, disgrace, or infamy be clothed with glory, and total humiliation the measure of His Goodness. For this He assumed my body, that I may become capable of His Word; taking my flesh, He gives me His spirit; and so He bestowing and I receiving, He prepares for me the treasure of Life. He takes my flesh, to sanctify me; He gives me His Spirit, that He may save me”.

These are the words of John Chrysostom, a pastor who lived in the 4th century.

It is a quote from one of the earliest recorded sermons on record. In it he tries to use words to express what could only otherwise be the stunned silence and awe that the Incarnation of God in Jesus Christ deserves.

At Christmas time you hear attempts by well-meaning people to express what is ultimately inexpressible, the historical fact of the Incarnation.

I’ve done this myself numerous times in this season of the year and throughout the year. It is one of the harder things about God, about the revelation of God, to understand. Not to believe, because believing is a matter of trusting.

For if we believe that God is, and if we don’t have a tiny box we try to squeeze God into, we understand that God can do anything. Literally anything is possible for God.

Sometime when you say something like that clever people come up with an absurd idea like: “If God can do anything, could He undo His own existence?”

That might be an interesting idea, but it is absurd, because God is the God of the possible and purposeful. God is the God who simply is, as God revealed to Moses when Moses asked God for His name.

And another thing God has revealed to us about Himself is that He is love. God is love. The Word the Bible uses is Agape, describing what kind of Love God is.

And the definition of Agape is affection, good will, love, benevolence, brotherly love. Love that reaches out and wants and works for the good of another.

And the Advent theme today is the love of God, and we pause to think about something pretty profound.

That’s this: The God who can do anything, the God who Is Love, chooses to express His power to do anything and to express His matchless love, by coming to you, personally, as an infant. The God of love, who can do anything in any way, came to you as an infant.

He came to us as an infant. Why? If God wanted to change everything, if He wanted to reshape the world and reshape your life, why wouldn’t He come in a more impressive way.

Why wouldn’t He come as a warrior Who wins every battle? Why wouldn’t He come...when you think of it the greatest power of the day at the time that Jesus was born was Caesar.

Why didn’t Jesus come under that banner, wielding that kind of authority to do good? If I was god, that’s what I would have done.

But, He came as a baby.

Dwight Gunter, a Nazarene Pastor in Texas, points out that “secular history leaves us with the belief that it’s the the Caesars, the kings and the presidents shape the world. Most items considered newsworthy revolve around these powerful figures, as they demand front-page headlines.

In 1809 the newspapers were captivated with stories about Napoleon’s campaigns. International attention was focused on Napoleon marching across Austria. Little else was newsworthy, especially the birth of babies that were born that year. It seemed as though Napoleon was the only one shaping the destiny of the world.

Actually the world’s destiny was being shaped in the cradles of the world. It was the year 1809 that William Gladstone was born and he was to become the greatest statesman that England ever produced.

Alfred Lloyd Tennyson was born that year to a poor minister and his wife; he was destined to shape the literary world.

Louis Braille, who invented the Braille system of reading and writing for the blind was born in 1809. Edgar Allen Poe began his tragic life that same year. It was also that same year Charles Darwin was born.

That same year in a log cabin in Hardin County Kentucky a baby named Abraham Lincoln was born.

At the time these individuals were born their births were insignificant in the eyes of the world.

After all the destiny of the world was being shaped by Napoleon on the battlefields of Austria, right?

In 4 BC Caesar August was one of the most powerful Caesars. It was said of him that he came to a Rome made of bricks and left it a city of marble. He transformed the world, not just Rome, with his roads and armies.

Mourners at his funeral comforted themselves with the belief that he was a god and therefore immortal. After all, Caesar had shaped the world, right?”

But the world was never to be so impacted as it was by the baby born around that year, wrapped in cloths and placed in a manger. A stable. But we need to remember that the stable was not Jesus’ first home.

The Gospel of John says this of Jesus, the Word of God: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was with God in the beginning”.

Jesus had left the abode of God. He left heaven, where He was surrounded by angels who worshipped day and night. He left heaven, with all its beauty and splendour.

He left heaven, when there is only holiness and purity - no sin, no wrong, no injustice, no disappointments.

He left the perfect, direct fellowship of the Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit - perfect and flawless relationships, perfect and matchless joy. Jesus left all that - we need to remember that BEFORE Jesus was born in a manger, He pre-existed eternally in the fullness of the Trinity.

Jesus left that, His home. He left it and He exchanged it for another home. This planet. Arriving in a barn. Sleeping in a manger.

Instead of being surrounded by angels, He was surrounded by animals. He was born to a very poor young mother and step-father. He was to live for at least his public ministry as someone who was homeless.

Jesus later said that “the foxes have holes and the birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay His head”.

We need to remember Jesus first home. The home He left in order to become a little, helpless infant. He came into this world in order to change the hearts of men and women.

In order to change the path of our lives from often only or mostly pain, to being lives of purpose and a good measure of joy. Jesus came into this world to change hearts.

He wants to change the hearts of everyone in this room. He wants to break through the walls we have up. He wants to break through our pain, our fear, our distrust, our boredom and apathy. He wants to transform me and He wants to transform you.

And maybe the idea of the Creator of the universe, the Almighty and Everlasting God, getting His hands on your life is a very scary thought. That is, actually, when you think about it, kinda scary.

God understood like that is pretty distant in our minds. Overwhelming. Maybe overbearing. His presence leads us to and leave us with maybe little more than fear.

Maybe, just maybe, that’s why God comes to us as kind of the opposite thing in our minds to the vast, powerful, majestic ruler of the universe. He comes to me and He comes to you this season as a baby. An infant. Helpless. But safe. Not threatening.

We may be used to the idea of God standing over us. and that might be threatening to us. But at Christmas, at this time of reflecting on the Incarnation, we in a sense stand over the Christ child.

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given”, (Isaiah 9:6a). Can we ponder that for a moment? FOR US a child is born. Not for Himself, not for the cosmos, not for an idea, not for a nation. For us. He was born for you and you and you, and me. His life would be meaningful for you.

His life would touch your life. And then it says TO US a son is given. Something given...well something given needs to be received.

I can’t give you something if you don’t receive it from me, right?

And this infant born in Bethlehem, this small, insignificant town. What else are we told? “...And the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end.

So the child born, the son given is the Mighty God. The everlasting Father. That means He’s the source of all creation. And yet He’s born. The child who is born is God.

Kind of mind-boggling, I hope. If it seems normal to you or over-familiar, well...I hope the wonder of it all has an effect on you, as it does me.

Jesus Christ is the God-man. Christmas is about the birth of God into human form.

The One who created us in His likeness enters our likeness. It’s about God becoming human, God becoming incarnate.

Tim Keller says that if Jesus Christ is really God, then you can’t just like Him. A book that was extremely helpful to me as a young Christian was John Stott’s Basic Christianity.

I read it years ago when I was around 18 or 19. What John Stott says is that the gospels show us that if you listen to people who actually talked to Jesus in His life and heard His claims, and realize what He was claiming, there are only 3 possible ways for them or us to respond to Him.

You either hated Him and tried to kill Him for claiming to be God, or you were scared to death of this man and you ran as far away as you possibly could, as you might a lunatic.

Or you fell down and worship Him and gave Him every single part of your life. You embrace Him. You give Him your highest allegiance. You said your the reason I’m going to get up everyday, just to live for you. You either hated Him, feared Him or you worshipped Him.

But nobody who knew Him just liked Him. Nobody just thought: “He’s inspiring, I like Him, I get things out of Him, I try to learn from Him”.

Nobody ever said that and anyone who does say that hasn’t heard what Christmas is all about.

It’s this claim. John Stott was absolutely right. There’s no such thing as just liking Him.

This Christmas, this time of reflection upon the Incarnation of God in the God-man Jesus Christ, is an opportunity.

Matthew 4:16 says: “The people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned”.

This Christmas is an opportunity to respond to the God who can do anything, the God who is Love, and the God who chose to come to us gently in the Christ Child - The child who grows up to be the God-man Jesus the Christ.

The God-man who, though He is God, allows Himself to be humiliated, bruised and beaten.

Although He is God the Son, who lived with God the Father since the beginning, He allows Himself to be scorned and spit upon and nailed to the cross of shame. Jesus is the God-man who takes my sin upon Himself.

My every selfish act, my every sinful thought, the very root of sin, of rebellion in me He takes to the cross.

He who knew no sin BECAME sin for us. He Who was perfect in holiness and matchless in majesty and flawless in His goodness. Jesus came to take the darkness away. Will you let Him, this season? Will you respond with a ‘yes’ to the gift of a Son given, a child born?

Will you bow down and worship Him in His glory? Will you offer Him up every single part of your life, without reservation, to cleanse and heal and make whole?

Will you affirm or reaffirm your allegiance to the God-man Jesus Christ, the Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace?

May we live for Him. May we serve Him with all of our passion and all of our heart’s commitment, and may we never, ever, stop celebrating the One who was Incarnate, the Word made flesh. Emmanuel.

God who is with us. Amen.