“God with Us” - 2024 Christmas Eve Service Message -

“A”

We have a letter “A” on the screen? What word comes to your mind? (apple, Abe, etc.) But how about some negative words such as “adultery”? And what if you have to wear that letter in public all the time?

 

In fact, the author Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote about this. In his book The Scarlet Letter, main character Hester Prynne is forced to wear a scarlet “A” for adultery, a mark of her shame. Yet, she transforms her punishment into a symbol of strength and grace. On the other hand, Arthur Dimmesdale, respected clergy, the child’s father, hides his sin and is consumed by guilt and torment. This story reminds us of the destructive power of sin and the redemptive power of grace that confession brings. Eventually this story points us to the gospel—where sin once enslaved us, Jesus takes it away.

 

Now let us pause and think of the weight of the sins, guilt, and shame we carry. For us, “A” may not stand for “adultery”; it may stand for “addiction,” or “abortion,” or others. Whatever the invisible scarlet letter you carry, Jesus is able to cleanse us and enable us to do a fresh start! When John the Baptist saw Jesus, he declared, “Look! The Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world (your name, and my name)!” (John 1:29). Imagine if we came to John for baptism today, each wearing a nametag with our name and sin written on it. “Victor: Judgmental Spirit or Pride.” What would yours say? [pause] Then comes Jesus, who needs no nametag, asking each of us to give Him ours. He takes every tag—every sin—and places them on Himself. When Jesus enters the waters of baptism, He identifies with our sins so we can be free. As 2 Corinthians 5:21 says, “God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.”

 

Homecoming

From the beginning, Jesus was rejected. When Joseph and Mary traveled to Bethlehem (Joseph’s hometown) for the census, they found no room at the inn (guest room). There no doubt would have been extended family there. It would have been customary for Joseph and Mary to be invited to stay with relatives. At that time most houses had guest rooms of some kind, for situations like this. Isn’t that strange all the guest rooms of Joseph's relatives were full and not available? We can easily assume that Joseph and Mary were not welcomed because of the stigma associated with Mary’s pregnancy – invisible scarlet letter “A.”

 

So Jesus was born not in a warm home but in a stable, surrounded by animals. He entered the world in humility/ humiliation, to reach us, love us, and redeem us. Ambrose of Milan beautifully put it this way:

 

“He became an infant and a child, so that you might be a perfect person… He was in a manger so that you might be at the altar. He was on earth so that you might be in heaven. He had no room at the inn so that you might have mansions in heaven.”

 

The Long Silence

The play entitled The Long Silence says it all:

 

At the end of time, billions of people stood before God’s throne. Most of them were standing afar in reverence, but some stood defiantly in the front. A young woman raised her sleeve, exposing a concentration camp tattoo, demanding, “How can God judge us? We endured terror, beatings, torture, death.” A Black man stepped forward, revealing a rope burn scar and asking, “Lynched, for no crime but being Black. What does God know of this?” A pregnant teenager murmured, “Why should I suffer? It wasn’t my fault.” Countless others shared their suffering, declaring God must first experience their pain to judge them. They sentenced God to live on earth—as a man, saying “Let Him be born a Jew, questioned from birth. Let His closest friends betray Him. Let false charges convict Him, and let Him suffer alone and die, with witnesses to confirm it.” As each sentence was proclaimed, murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd, but as the final words pronounced, there was a long silence, because they suddenly realized—God had already served His sentence.

 

God with Us

This past summer my family and I visited Niagara Falls. We were just in awe of its beauty. What draws us in? It’s the vast difference in elevation—the height of the fall. Similarly, the beauty of Christmas lies in the immense distance Jesus traveled. The Son of God, the Creator of the universe, came down to earth. He gave up His divine privilege and became a helpless child, fully dependent on His parents. He experienced every part of human life, not skipping any of it. Why? Because of love. God’s radical love.

In Jesus, God came to us to live with us, to save us, and to give us new life. This is a holy night.

 

So, what can we give Him? Christina Rossetti (“In the Bleak Midwinter”) wrote (in verse 4):

“What can I give him, poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet, what can I give Him? Give my heart.”

Tonight, as we gaze upon the nativity, let us remember this: the baby in the manger is the answer to our deepest cries. Jesus, Immanuel, God with us. He knows our suffering. He carries our wounds. He has already borne your pain. Let us come, fall on our knees, and give him our hearts. Merry Christmas. Amen.