Heard On Sunday - The Hope of a Savior Copy

The Christmas story doesn't unfold the way we would write it. If we were crafting a screenplay about the arrival of the Creator of the universe, we certainly wouldn't choose a dirty animal feed trough in a backwater town. We wouldn't select teenage parents with zero social standing. And we definitely wouldn't announce this cosmic event to society's outcasts—shepherds who smelled like sheep and lived on the margins.

Yet that's exactly how God chose to enter human history.

The Problem We Can't Fix

Something is desperately wrong with our world. This isn't a controversial statement—even the greatest atheistic thinkers throughout history have acknowledged it. Philosophers like Nietzsche and Jean-Paul Sartre, psychologists like Freud, social theorists like Marx—all diagnosed the same fundamental problem: humanity is broken.

Where they differed was in the solution.

The uncomfortable truth that Scripture presents is that we're not merely victims of this brokenness—we're active participants. Our rebellious nature isn't the result of bad parenting or unfortunate circumstances. It's woven into the fabric of who we are from our very first breath. We're born with a bent toward self-destruction and rebellion against our Creator.

This is why every technological advance, every educational achievement, every economic boom doesn't ultimately fix what's wrong. In fact, these advances often reveal our wickedness even more clearly. People who are spiritually dead cannot resurrect themselves. We need someone from outside our broken system to intervene.

We need a Savior.

Promises Fulfilled in the Smallest Details

Luke's Gospel grounds the Christmas story in verifiable history. "In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration when Quirinius was governor of Syria" (Luke 2:1-2). This isn't mythology or folklore—it's anchored in time and place.

The birth in Bethlehem fulfilled ancient prophecies, including Micah 5:2, which declared centuries earlier that from this small town would come a ruler "whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days." God was keeping His promises—even the small ones that might seem insignificant.

This matters because God never breaks a promise. Yet we often fail to marvel at this reality for two reasons: First, we're biblically illiterate and don't even know what God has promised. Second, we don't marvel at something we don't think we need. When life is comfortable and our retirement accounts are growing, we're in danger of thinking we've got everything under control.

The blessing—and sometimes the curse—of living in prosperity is the illusion that life has turned out the way we desired. But if we live long enough, that illusion always evaporates. Suffering has a way of stripping away our pretenses and revealing our desperate need for God's promises.

The Sovereignty We Don't Possess

Notice how God orchestrated the Christmas story using all authorities for His purposes—even pagan rulers like Caesar Augustus and the governor of Syria. These weren't believers, yet God used their decrees to position Mary and Joseph exactly where they needed to be.

Here's a challenging truth: your life glorifies God regardless of whether you acknowledge Him. Everyone's life brings glory to God—either as trophies of His grace and mercy, or as demonstrations of His justice. One way or another, God gets the glory.

We distract ourselves from this reality with trinkets, vacations, hobbies, and entertainment. We maintain a constant illusion that we possess personal sovereignty equal to or above God's. But it's a mirage.

Consider this: Did you birth yourself? Can you control when you die? The Bible tells us that all our days were ordained before we were even born. No one dies early—not one person. "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away" (Job 1:21). We don't control the beginning or end of our lives, yet we think we're sovereign over everything in between.

This recognition of God's complete sovereignty isn't meant to discourage us—it's meant to free us. When we stop pretending we're in control and acknowledge that God alone is sovereign, we can finally rest in His promises.

Good News for Outcasts

The scene shifts from the manger to the fields where shepherds were keeping watch. In first-century culture, shepherds occupied the lowest rungs of the social ladder. Many were thieves or involved in unsavory activities. They were despised by the upper classes and considered social outcasts.

Yet these were the first evangelists—the first to hear and share the good news.

"And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with great fear" (Luke 2:9). Their fear was appropriate. They weren't expecting a divine visitation, especially not when they might have been hiding stolen goods or engaged in questionable activities behind a boulder.

The holiness of God burst upon them unexpectedly. They were awestruck.

The angel's message was revolutionary: "Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord" (Luke 2:10-11).

Notice that title: Lord. The same Caesar Augustus demanded people call him "Lord" (Kyrios in Greek), claiming divinity for himself. But this angel was announcing the true Lord—not an earthly ruler, but Yahweh Himself in human flesh.

The Economics of Heaven Turned Upside Down

The sign given to the shepherds was paradoxical: "You will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger" (Luke 2:12). The One who holds the world in His hands was held in a stinking horse trough. The Eternal One was caught in a moment of time. The Omnipresent, Omniscient God was captured in a helpless infant who couldn't even raise his head from the straw.

In infinite wisdom, God planned to enter the world this way—through the quickest route to the human heart: an innocent child.

Then came the exclamation point: "And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!'" (Luke 2:13-14).

The birth of Jesus brings glory to God—not to us. It's His extravagant attributes that shine in Jesus' birth, life, death, resurrection, and promised return. The love is so great that the Father didn't spare His only Son, that the Son became poor though He was rich, that He would bear the curse of sin so the Holy Spirit could dwell in darkened hearts.

Peace for God's People

The result of this invasion? Peace for God's people. But notice the specificity: "peace among those with whom he is pleased." Real peace on earth only exists among those who are subjects of God's goodwill—those who have faith in Christ, who are His people.

God is not pleased with everyone. He is pleased with those who are His, those who follow His will through obedient faith. The birth of Christ was God's offer of peace with Himself through faith in Christ alone—a gift from God Himself.

Heralds of Good News

We fill the role of the shepherds. We are sinners saved by grace. God has come into our darkness, and now we're called to declare the good news to our neighborhoods, families, and communities.

Yet we struggle to be heralds. Why? Two reasons:

First, we've bought the lie that we need all the answers before opening our mouths. But remember: Jesus saves. That's the starting point. We can learn theology and apologetics (and we should), but we don't need to be experts to share what we know: "I love Jesus."

Second, we still want to be cool and accepted by the world. We idolize acceptance to the point of selling out our deepest beliefs. But Jesus told us we would be hated by the world for His name's sake. The call isn't to be weird or offensive, but to be faithful—even when it costs us social capital.

An Invitation

This Advent season, the good news remains: joy has come for us all. A Savior has been born. The Creator entered His creation to rescue those who could not save themselves.

The question isn't whether God is sovereign or whether His promises are true—the question is whether we'll marvel at these realities and live as heralds of the good news, sharing with outcasts and insiders alike that the kingdom of heaven has broken into our broken world.

Glory to God in the highest. Peace on earth to those with whom He is pleased.