"And Mary Laid Him in a Manger..." - Luke 2: 7

In the name of Jesus, our newborn King. Amen.

“So it was, that while they were there, the days were completed for her to be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”

“Away in a manger, no crib for a bed, the little, Lord Jesus laid down His sweet head…” We sing it so romantically, that it’s easy to overlook what the words say: Mary laid her firstborn son, God’s Son, in an animal’s feed trough. That’s what a manger is: a vessel for feeding livestock.  I wonder: was it wood, assembled with hand-cut nails and wood pegs, or was it cut stone? Did Joseph have to wipe out calf slobber or move a couple of chicken eggs before placing Jesus in it? Were the edges worn smooth by the necks of goats and sheep and donkeys? Was it cold limestone or was it warm cedar? Did he find some straw for cushioning and warmth? Did it look like this, or was it merely a box? Was there a pang of shame when they looked at that feed trough, wishing there was some place better, something more worthy, where they could place their son and their Lord? Regardless, it’s all that Mary and Joseph had: “She laid Him in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn.”

The contrast is stunning: Jesus who, as God, was present when all things were created, speaking all things into existence, through whom all things were made and without whom nothing could have been made, Jesus becomes a human boy. When the Temple was dedicated, Solomon proclaimed that God cannot be contained by heaven or earth or house, but there He was in a stable, contained in flesh, wrapped in swaddling cloth, and placed in a manger. Truly, a Divine miracle; truly an act of Divine mercy: God sent His Son into the world, through human birth, to live as us to be our Savior. Jesus set aside His full divine nature to take on human flesh to dwell among us. Promised by the angel Gabriel nine months earlier, Mary gives birth to God’s Son. He, who is God over everything, is so humbled as to be reduced to sleeping among the animals of creation. The Virgin-born Child is the Messiah, the One Isaiah proclaimed centuries earlier to be Immanuel, God with Us. But that night, though heralded by angels, the world largely ignored Him who slept in an animal’s feed bunk. All, that is, except shepherds, to whom the angels sang, who were told to seek Him out. What they found was that a manger was the bassinette for Baby Jesus, the Son of God swaddled in a piece of cloth.

Tonight, through the Scriptures, you have taken a journey; brief in our evening’s time, yet spanning millennia. It began in a Garden with two people who destroyed a perfect creation and a perfect relationship with the Creator. Iin His love, God pledged to them a Savior. He spoke of a Seed who would crush the Serpent’s head after he first bruised the Seed’s heel. Rather unclear, yet it was a promise and Adam and Eve trusted God’s Word. The promise was extended to Abraham for a son. Then there was foreshadowing of God’s own sacrifice in Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his only son, Isaac, trusting the Lord would somehow keep His promise of a descendant. Isaiah’s description of the Child’s name would move people to tears, first, to those returning to Jerusalem; later through Handel’s musical interpretation of those same words. And little Bethlehem, out in the backwoods hill country of Judah, would be forever honored as the birthplace of Child who would stand and feed God’s people with His strength.

From the first Gospel promise to Adam and Eve that a Seed would crush the Serpent’s head who would, first, bruise the heel of the Promised One; through Abraham’s trusting the promise of God for an heir and descendants even as God demanded that very son back; through Isaiah who promised the Child would be God With Us; even through Micah declaring that the little town of Bethlehem would be the birthplace of an even greater ruler in Israel than David, God’s promises, His Word, endured, repeated from generation to generation.

That’s where the journey concludes: at the manger, where the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth. In the fullness of time, God sent forth His Son, born of the woman, born under the Law to redeem those under the Law. The manger held God’s plan of salvation: When Mary gently, lovingly, tenderly laid her Son, God’s Son, in the manger, the manger contained that which otherwise could not be contained: Jesus, God in flesh, born of Mary, born to be the Savior, Christ the Lord.

Well, I said the journey concludes at the manger, but that’s not quire right, is it? The journey is only beginning for Jesus. He had to be born so He could be human, so that in His life and ministry, He will be familiar with our joys and sorrows, our struggles and our temptations. He will stand in the place of Adam and Eve and each of us who have ever surrendered to the devil, the world, and our sinful flesh. He will be laughed at, scorned and rejected by those whom He came to save. In fact, if you look closely in the manger, you see the shadow of the cross looming large on the horizon. 

He will be murdered by those who, of all people, should have welcomed Him as Messiah instead of a personal, political threat. He will die, the innocent for the guilty. Immanuel, God with us, will die alone, even forsaken by His own Father. And then there will be another Joseph, this time from Arimathea, who will take Jesus, wrap Him in swaddling clothes, and lay Him, gently, lovingly and tenderly not in a manger, but in a tomb because there was no room for Him among the living.  As the manger could not hold Him, neither could cross and grave. After a three-day’s rest in the tomb, Jesus arose, victorious over sin, satan, and death. The echoes of His Good Friday cry, “It is finished,” continue to echo through the centuries as He completed the purpose for which He came: to be Jesus, to save His people from their sins.

Tonight, for many, perhaps even most of you, we gather at the foot of the manger, in awe and wonder, in praise and thanksgiving, and receive Him whom angels sing and anthems ring. But for others, perhaps even some of you, that doesn’t fit your place in life, right now. The weight of the world is on your shoulders and your heart is filled with anything but peace, joy, and wonder. The death of a loved one, an unexpected, broken relationship, illness slowly consuming the life of a family member, unemployment and bankruptcy, family who can’t – or who refuses – to come home for Christmas, the guilt and shame of what you said or didn’t say, what you did or didn’t do – all marks of this fallen world we live in, all used by satan to try to separate us from the reason Jesus came.

Jesus didn’t come for a tree laden with lights and presents packed to the ceiling. He didn’t come to hear three generations singing carols in perfect harmony while gnoshing on cocoa and cookies. It wasn’t for Charlie Brown and Linus, or Jimmie Stewart, or Charles Dickens. Jesus came for you, with all of your sins, with all of your ugliness that a sweater can’t cover up, with all of your hard words that Christmas cards can’t sweeten or erase, with your heart harder than peanut brittle and thoughts more crooked than a twisted candy cane, for tears that run unwanted down your face, for the stress that overflowed and blew up, for all of your ugliness, Mary gave birth to a Son, God’s Son. He was born for you; He lived for you; He died for you; He rose for you, to redeem you and make you His own.

The Little Drummer Boy played his best for Jesus, the song sings. Pa rum pum pum pum…  Don’t worry about your best tonight. Instead, repent of your worst this evening and leave all of your guilt, your shame, your worry, your failures, your sins in the manger. Parents – this is especially for you, whom the world says that if you don’t have that perfect tree, and perfect presents, and perfect Norman Rockwell family you’re somehow a Christmas failure. We get so wrapped up in the fable of a perfect Christmas that it’s easy to forget Jesus came for imperfect people. So, dump them all here, each and every guilt and shame ridden thought, word and deed and leave them here in the manger. That’s all Jesus wants from you this Christmas. That’s what He came for – to save from your sins. So, give them to Him and receive forgiveness, life and salvation in their place.

Remember, the manger is empty. So is the cross. So is the grave.

But your Savior, Jesus, whom Mary once laid in that hallowed manger, He is very much here. He is here for you. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth. 

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.