26 December 2006

SERMON OUTLINE 008--25 DEC 2006

RETAKING the OBJECTIVE

Christmas Day
FOB Paliwoda
25DEC06

Scripture
Luke 2:1-20

Timeline
1:5-25 Jonathan promised to Elizabeth and Zacharias in their old age
1:26-38 Gabriel visits Mary
1:39-45 Mary visits Elizabeth
1:46-56 Mary’s song of joy
1:57-80 John the Baptist is born

I. Introduction

    A. It is beginning, or has for awhile, felt like every day is like the movie Groundhog Day. Every day is the same. Well, does this Christmas Day feel any different? Should it?

    B. Topic of this message is hope, it is our objective. Unfortunately, I think we have lost at times this objective called hope. It may not be that we are hopeless, but we have lost that sense of faith.

    C. Hope originally meant trust. Where is our trust, who do we trust?

    D. Hope is what this day is about, and if every day is the same, then shame on us for not retaking it back in the name of the Lord.


II. The Child Who Did Not Count

    A. Historical context

      1. The census was for tax purposes.

      2. The journey was through rugged mountain trails.

      3. Think about this day from Mary’s perspective. Here she was, pregnant for the first time, scared, traveling with a man that was her husband that she really just met, the baby is coming, and they will not even let them stay at the inn.

      4. How cold do you have to be to refuse a pregnant woman a place to stay?


    B. Do we have it harder than Joseph and Mary?

    C. The inn was packed because of census. It was more important to obey Caesar than it was to show mercy and compassion to a pregnant girl. In a way, Jesus was the boy who does not count.

    D. Have you ever felt like you did not count, that you were not important, that you were just a number? Now you have something in common with Christ.

    E. “There were only a few shepherds at the first Bethlehem. The ox and the ass understood more of the first Christmas than the high priests in Jerusalem. And it is the same today.” -Thomas Merton


III. The Child Who Takes Anger Away

    A.

    A Nigerian woman who is a physician at a great teaching hospital in the United States came out of the crowd today to say something kind about the lecture I had just given. She introduced herself using an American name. "What's your African name?" I asked. She immediately gave it to me, several syllables long with a musical sound to it. "What does the name mean?" I wondered.

    She answered, "It means 'Child who takes the anger away.'"

    When I inquired as to why she would have been given this name, she said, "My parents had been forbidden by their parents to marry. But they loved each other so much that they defied the family opinions and married anyway. For several years they were ostracized from both their families. Then my mother became pregnant with me. And when the grandparents held me in their arms for the first time, the walls of hostility came down. I became the one who swept the anger away. And that's the name my mother and father gave me."

    It occurred to me that her name would be a suitable one for Jesus[1].


    B. We find Christ in a dirty manger in a place where most of the world would not be. Christ still comes to those places. He was not born in suburbia, or in a burnt out neighborhood, or even on a farm in America. He came to a war-torn, ravaged place—a place not meant for children, a place that many called unholy and unfit for God. A place filled with hate and vengeance. He still comes to those places, waiting to be born, except now it is in the rough, bitter places of our hearts. That grudge that you hold, is it worth it? Is it worth putting Jesus out of the inn of your heart?

    C. Is there someone with whom we have a broken relationship? Perhaps it is a parent, a sibling, a spouse, or a child? Have we been holding onto that barrier because we were either too afraid or too full of pride to make peace?


IV. The Child Who Unites in God’s Name

    A.

    A Palestinian baby found abandoned at birth in a roadside heap of trash was rescued by Palestinian doctors, nurtured by a group of nuns, and had her heart repaired by an Israeli surgeon. The survival of tiny Salaam, whose name means "peace" in Arabic, has become a rare example of the region's usually fractured and clashing peoples working together to save a life.

    The area has been torn by Palestinian-Israeli violence in which children and infants on both sides have suffered and died.

    Salaam was found by Palestinians along a road north of the West Bank town of Ramallah and taken to a shelter run by Palestinian social services. A group of nuns in Bethlehem gave her a permanent home.

    But the baby's health worsened. She was born with a large hole between the chambers of her heart, and her lungs were not receiving enough blood. Palestinian doctors noticed she was turning blue and losing weight, and the baby was taken to a Jerusalem hospital.

    "She was skin and bone and that's it," said Israeli doctor Eli Milgalter, who operated on Salaam's heart on January 24th. The nuns raised nearly $11,000 to pay for the hospital costs, and Milgalter performed the surgery without accepting payment. Salaam has made a full recovery, doctors said.[2]


    B. Does this story mean something different to you now that we are here? When people ask you what are we doing in this place, are we not trying to bring some hope. We are more than soldiers, we are men, and we have been created in this Child’s image, despite what we believe. Let us not turn away from that question we all get from our fellow soldiers, “what are we doing here,” without speaking a word of hope. Shame on us if we do.


V. Conclusion

    A.

    There fared a mother driven forth
    Out of an inn to roam;
    In the place where she was homeless
    All men are at home.
    The crazy stable close at hand,
    With shaking timber and shifting sand,
    Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
    Than the square stones of Rome.
    To an open house in the evening
    Home shall men come,
    To an older place than Eden
    And a taller town than Rome.
    To the end of the way of the wandering star
    To an open house in the evening
    Home shall men come,
    To an older place than Eden
    And a taller town than Rome.[3]

God came into this world, despite the fact that all the doors were shut in his face, all the reasons to hope were gone, yet he still came. He comes still. He comes for me. He comes for you. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace (and hope), goodwill toward men.


[1] Gordon MacDonald, author, speaker, Leadership editor-at-large, Leadership Weekly (11-6-02).
[2] "'Peace Baby' Touches Mideast Enemies," Associated Press (2-25-02); submitted by James C. Lindberg, Tempe, Arizona.
[3] G. K. Chesterton, extracts from his poem "The House of Christmas," Christianity Today, Vol. 39, no. 14.

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