Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Gospel reading from Matthew 1.  

Ever have a bowl of corn flakes? They are about as plain as plain can get. Nothing fancy in that bowl of flaky, yellow crunchiness. That’s part of the problem. How do you market plain? Compared to the some of their multi-textured, suger-crusted, cinnamon-dusted, flavor-enhanced neighbors on the cereal shelves, corn flakes are simple, ordinary, and, well, plain. We say something plain is “vanilla,” but what if it’s not even vanilla? So, some time ago, one of the cereal companies tried rebranding with the clever notion, “Taste it again for the first time.” Remarkably, sales soared as people did just that.

Today, I invite you to do the same with the Christmas narrative. It’s helpful that it’s from Matthew, because most of us are more familiar with the Luke 2 version. Because we’re less accustomed to Matthew’s rendition, it makes it easier for us to “taste the Nativity again for the first time.”

I love this sentence: “Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way.” Consider what those eleven words are saying. Immanuel, God-with-us, was birthed. God takes on flesh to dwell among us. For those keeping score, that is the first miracle that is recorded in this reading. Jesus - who was with the Father since the beginning, remember, along with the Holy Spirit; He’s not showing up fashionably late to the party…He’s always been there! – Jesus physically enters time and space so that He can live like you and me. God is born. Don’t miss that. God is born. Yes, there is a mystery there – how does the infinite take on the finite – but don’t lose sight of the blessing of God. Jesus comes to us; He takes on flesh so that He can be born, so He can be a human, so He can know life this side of heaven with all that entails, including its joys, sorrows, and temptations.

I love the Nativity of Jesus. I also love looking at the various artistic renditions of the holy night. You can quite literally spend hours on-line, scrolling through paintings, sketches, and drawings of the artists’ impression of what may have transpired in that Bethlehem stable. While they range from the incredibly ornate to the surprisingly simple, artists try to capture that sacred moment. Each, in their own way, lend another view of that holy night with the Holy Family, the Infant Babe, the shepherds, and whatever livestock may, or may not, have been present, all paying homage to Immanuel.

But, I submit, none of them get it quite right. They all miss one incredibly important detail, one that lends a deeper understanding to the birth of Jesus. Allow me to explain what I mean.

I was present in the birthing suite for all three of our children. There was blood, and crying, and pain and agony and then, the cry of the baby over and against the tears of Laura and me. I have yet to see an artist who has captured that in the birth of Jesus. All of the paintings present a clean, sanitary, sterile picture for us as if Mary were pregnant one minute and then – POOF! – Jesus appears, wrapped in swaddling blankets with Mary kneeling humbly at the side of the manger, fully dressed without a hair out of place. Joseph is nearby in prayerful pose, also the perfect example of cool, calm and collected. Please understand: I am not making fun, nor being sacrilegious. My point is this: the birth of Jesus was a bloody, messy, and probably loud arrival, just like any other child. When Matthew writes, “Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place this way,” you must understand this: birth is through blood and water.

That blood was a foreshadowing of His life. That bloody, Bethlehem birth foretold His death on the Jerusalem hillside some 30 years later when blood and water would flow from his pierced side. Matthew could just as well have written, “Now, the death of Jesus Christ came about this way,” and he would have been perfectly on track. That’s where the rest of the Gospel is leading: to the cross. The cross is the place where Jesus will atone for our sins. He was born so that He could die as the perfect sacrifice after living the perfect life under the Law of God. In that manger, the cross was already on the horizon, unseen and unknown by anyone else.

The Christmas songs, hymns, and carols we love to sing miss this. Only a few set the stage for us, reminding us that the cross was already on the horizon, unseen and unknown by Mary, Joseph, or anyone else that holy night.

            Why lies He in such mean estate, where ox and ass are feeding?
            Good Christian, fear; for sinners, here, the silent Word is sleeping.
            Nails, spear shall pierce Him through, the cross be born for me, for you;
            Hail, hail the Word made flesh, the babe, the Son of Mary.

That is the first miracle: Jesus is born. There is one other miracle, described in another amazing sentence that Matthew records. Bear with me for a second; we’ll get there.

I have often wondered how the conversation went with Mary and Joseph. “Hey, Joe? I need to tell you something. There was this angel, see? And – well, you’re going to be a step-father, Joe. Hey…what do you think I am? No, Joe…there isn’t anyone else – I promise! No…Joe!!! Don’t say that! Joe! Please….please, listen…I believe the angel…please, believe me!” I’ve never seen that scene in a painting. Have you? But I can imagine a sad look on his face as Joseph turns and walks, slowly, out the door intending to never return.

Back then, marriages were legally binding from the beginning of the betrothal, well before the “I now pronounce you,” that we recognize today. I can’t say I would have blamed Joseph for assuming the worst. “Mary, I’m no doctor – I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express, once – but I know enough to know about birds, bees, flowers, trees and the moon up above.” I don’t blame him for checking in with a lawyer about the process of a divorce before their marriage was sanctified. To his credit, he was going to do things as gently and privately as he could – no public scandal, here – so to cause her no shame.

Then, the angel of the Lord intervened through a dream: “Don’t be afraid.” If you prefer a literal understanding: “Stop; discontinue being afraid, Joseph.” It’s as if the angel tells Joseph, “As Mary believes, you believe, also!” When he wakes up, I imagine he swallowed hard a few times, took a few deep breaths, and said the Hebrew equivalent of “Here we go.” That’s the second miracle. Against all human wisdom and expectation, Joseph believes the promise and call of God to faithfully be the earthly father to Jesus, the Son of God and Son of Mary.

Again, it speaks to the humanity of the story. It wasn’t all those neat, Norman Rockwell-esque “peace on earth, goodwill to men” paintings and sketches we see on our Christmas cards. There were real feelings, emotions, decisions. God gave Joseph both the faith to believe the angel and then to live with the wonderfully strange vocation of (what we would today call) being stepfather to the Son of God.

It’s all there in Matthew’s tight, condensed narrative: Mary, Joseph, virgin mother, prophecy completed, an angelic messenger, and finally the birth of her son, named Jesus.

Joseph appears only a handful of times after this. In fact, after Joseph, Mary, and the infant Jesus flee to Egypt (Matthew 2), he shows up only once more time – when Jesus was 12 (the end of Luke 2), and Mary and Joseph find Him in the temple, holding confirmation class. Then Joseph disappears. If we were writing this as a movie script, he would be “supporting cast.” That’s OK. He had his role; he had his vocation and he did it faithfully.

How do I know that? Simple: “And he called His name Jesus.”

It’s good that we are hearing these words again today. With everything going on, it’s easy to lose sight of what Christmas is all about. That special item that you ordered hasn’t shown up yet. Going to the store is practically an exercise in close combat. You promised to bake cookies with your grandkids, the lights died on the tree yesterday, you’re not feeling all that well, and there are Amazon orders, still in their boxes, that need to be wrapped stealthily when no one is around. Add to that the medical tests and appointments you’re trying to squeeze in under this year’s deductible and making sure everyone has the perfect outfit for Christmas Eve or Day… Well, it's almost enough to put the bah-humbug back into Christmas.

So, here’s what I want to do with you. For a few minutes, we’re going to tune all that out. I’m going to re-read Matthew’s Christmas narrative. I want you to sit with those words, and listen to the words tell the story of the birth of Jesus, your Savior. “Taste it again for the first time” in this moment. Close your eyes, and listen to what the Holy Spirit inspired Matthew to record for us.

¹⁸ Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. ¹⁹ And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly. ²⁰ But as he considered these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. ²¹ She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” ²² All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet:

²³ “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel” (which means, God with us). 

²⁴ When Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him: he took his wife, ²⁵ but knew her not until she had given birth to a son. And he called his name Jesus.

Amid everything else to do this week, remember this: Jesus is for you, dear friend. The Nativity is for you. This gift of God is for you. The gift…the gift of Jesus and His grace, mercy, and love endures. God bless you this crazy, hectic, bonkers week.