Luke 2:1-20 "Birth of Jesus"
My wife, Kim, and I were born in the same maternity ward of the same hospital in Springfield, Illinois—it wasn’t planned, no one saw the connection at the time. Our daughter, Von, was born on the cold tile floor of a bathroom in a very cozy birthing center complete with hot tub—that wasn’t exactly the birth plan we had drawn up with the midwife. Two years later, Von watched her brother, Angel, come into the world at the same birthing center—this time, Kim was actually in the hot tub. That was a little closer to what we originally had in mind.
Last week there was an article in the paper about a woman who gave birth in the front seat of a Tesla on the way to the hospital. Her husband put in the address of the hospital and set the car on auto-pilot while he helped deliver the baby from the driver’s seat. Nurses came outside and cut the umbilical cord right there in the car. They seriously considered naming their daughter Tess.
You probably have some interesting birth stories in your family, too. That’s the thing about babies being born, they tend to be a little unpredictable and dramatic. It doesn’t usually go the way we would expect. And then we tell the story over and over.
Tonight we’re here to remember the birth of Jesus. We’ve probably all heard the story so many times that we’ve romanticized every part of it—every character: the shepherds, the angels, the innkeeper. Let’s try to peel off the Christmas wrappings a little bit, and think about the down-to-earth facts we were actually told.
Prayer: Father in heaven, open our eyes to the wonder and joy surrounding the birth of Jesus—the moment in time when hope truly came into the world. AMEN.
Luke 2:1-20
In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to their own town to register. So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.
It’s Christmas, so naturally, we need to think about taxes. Why did Luke start this way? If I told you about my birth, I probably wouldn’t start with “In those days LBJ signed the Revenue Act of 1964.” But it makes sense—Luke grounds his Gospel in historically verifiable events. Everyone would have been familiar with the big census—how everyone had to go to their ancestral hometown to be registered. It was a painful memory—no one wanted to do it. By bringing it up, Luke does two things: he grounds the story in real history (this isn’t a fairy tale), and he reminds people that the Roman government was kind of a pain.
Mary and Joseph lived in Nazareth, so they had to travel about 100 miles to fill out paperwork in Bethlehem. And apparently, they had to do it right now, doesn’t matter that Mary was just about to pop. Luke just gives us the facts, he doesn’t tell us what all the facts mean. In chapter one, he had already told us this baby was the fulfillment of the Old Testament promises about the Messiah. The prophet, priest, and king who would come from the line of David. He doesn’t mention how the prophet Micah said the Messiah would come from Bethlehem, or how Isaiah said He would be born of a virgin. Luke expects us to put those things together on our own. Luke seems to have a lot of confidence in us. Ha.
While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son.
Firstborn son. I know a lot of people think Jesus was the only child Mary gave birth to—that she didn’t have any more kids, that Jesus only had stepbrothers and sisters. I don’t think so. I think it would be strange to call Jesus her “firstborn son” if she didn’t give birth to other sons. No one who only has one kid calls them their “firstborn.” That’d be like me calling Kim my first wife, and Angel and Von the children from her first marriage (which I do, but only to confuse people).
She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.
Everyone who grew up in Bethlehem would have been coming home for the census. By the time Mary and Joseph got there, all the rooms were taken. It was a small town, they wouldn’t have had anything like a Motel 6 or a Drury Inn. People were probably staying with family in guest rooms.
We always tell the Christmas story like there was some grumpy old Inn Keeper, probably named Ebeneezer, who looks at the poor shivering couple, she’s about to give birth—and he’s like, “No Room For You! You sleep in barn! Bah Humbug!”
That’s not really fair. It just says there wasn’t room, doesn’t say anyone was a jerk about it. Also, whether Mary and Joseph liked it or not, this was all going down exactly the way God planned it. This was His birth plan for His Son.
God loved the world so much that He gave His only begotten Son. God the Father sent God the Son to be born in the most humble, vulnerable way. Born in a place for lowly animals where He would sleep in a feeding trough. That’s what a manger is, it’s a container to hold food for animals. We don’t think of it as the ideal way to have a baby, but it’s the way God wanted it to happen.
I’m going to let our good friend Linus read the next part:
[And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.] Luke 2:8-9
Shepherds. We have a pretty romantic image of these guys—that’s not the way people would have heard this story in Luke’s day. Shepherds were outcasts. Doing the work of a shepherd made you ceremonially unclean. So, people didn’t trust shepherds. Didn’t associate with them. Dirty shepherds!
In the town I grew up in, every summer the carnival would set up in the town square. The people who traveled with the carnival were called “carnies”—everyone made sure to lock their doors when the carnival was in town. People looked at shepherds the way my small town looked at carnies.
But that’s who the angel was sent to. Not to King Herod. Not to the High Priest. Not a bunch of people praying at the Temple. Just some shepherds in a field that no one was going to believe.
The angel shows up and the shepherds are terrified. Which is what always seems to happen when angels show up, and they always say the same thing… “Do not be afraid.”
The angels are obviously uncomfortable with people being afraid of them but probably not for the reasons that we might think. The Bible says “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” that we are to “fear the Lord alone.” I don’t think the angels are trying to comfort the shepherds, I think they want to make it clear that they are not God and they shouldn’t be worshiped, they’re not be feared on any level. So, the angel says…
(But the angel said to them,)
“Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people.” Luke 2:10
The Jews had been waiting for the Messiah—the Savior of Israel. Luke lets us know right up front that Jesus isn’t just coming to save the Jews. This is for all the people. Jesus had come to offer salvation to the whole world. The angel says, “Don’t be afraid, I’m here to tell you something that will bring great joy—for everyone.”
And here it is in Verse 11, this is what will bring great joy:
Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ, the Lord. Luke 2:11
Here’s the good news: The Savior of the world was born in Bethlehem today. This baby is Christ the Lord. Christ means Messiah in Greek. Lord means the personal name of God, YAHWEH. That’s what the angel told the shepherds and what Luke is telling us: “Something amazing happened. The Messiah was born today. There’s a baby in town who is both the Savior of mankind and also the Lord God Almighty. God Himself has been born as a human baby.
[This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”] 2 Luke:12-14
The shepherds might have found that a little hard to believe—kind of hard to wrap their minds around. Wouldn’t you? So the angel tries to be a little more convincing. “Go see for yourself. Go into town and you’ll find a newborn baby wrapped in strips of cloths lying in a feeding trough.” Then he was like, “Okay boys. Let’s dazzle!” And a multitude of angels suddenly appeared and blew the shepherd’s minds by praising God in glorious splendor saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”
You might like the way King James and Linus say it better, “Peace on earth, goodwill to men” but “peace to those on whom His favor rests” is actually what it says.
I used to wonder “what if I’m not one of them? What if His favor doesn’t rest on me?”
This is important. This is the Gospel… That baby lying in the manger—He’s the One that God’s favor rests on. Our only hope of having God’s favor rest on us is through Him. We have to be connected to Him. Saved by Him. We have to believe in Him, trust in Him, cling to Him, go to the Father through Him. God’s favor rests on His beloved Son in whom He is well pleased—He’s our only hope of having God’s favor. His goodwill extends to us through Him.
It’s only good news for you if you understand that. Believe in the One the Father sent as a baby. Christ, the Lord. Believe in the One who lived a truly perfect life in your place. Died on a cross in your place. Rose from the dead in your place—because you wouldn’t be able to do any of those things. Give glory to God, trust in Jesus, believe in the One on whom His favor rests—that’s the only way you’ll find peace on earth.
Verse 15:
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. 2 Luke:15-16
There’s a recent myth about the birth of Jesus that I kind of like, but doesn’t really have any historical or Biblical evidence to back it up. It says the shepherds around Bethlehem were Levitical shepherds who raised sheep for Passover. When perfect baby lambs were born, they would wrap them in strips of cloth to keep them unblemished. The idea is that when these particular shepherds saw a baby in a manger wrapped up like a baby Passover lamb it would have meant something special to them. It’s a cool story. I like it, but it’s mostly just wishful thinking. We need to be careful we don’t get so attached to extra-Biblical details that we confuse them with the story we have been trusted to pass on to future generations. Because that’s how the Christmas story ends—it ends with those shepherds telling everyone about everything they had just seen. We don’t need to make up things to add to the story—it’s amazing enough as it is.
When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told. 2 Luke:17-20
The shepherds were the first evangelists. They told Mary and Joseph about what they had seen out in the fields—what the angels told them. Then they told everyone they saw. It was a pretty amazing story about the sky opening up with angels and the glory of God and a baby lying in a manger—the message of peace on earth and goodwill to men.
Mary held onto these words like treasure. Pondered them in her heart. What was it going to be like to be the mother of the Savior of the world? “I hope I don’t mess this up.” I mean, we all feel that way when our kids are born—we all hope we don’t mess it up too bad. We all know God is watching us but Mary and Joseph had that on a whole other level. It’s a good thing it didn’t really depend on them to do everything right. They were going to make mistakes. They were going to need the same forgiveness and goodwill from their Son that everyone needs.
Pretty soon, this service will be over—we’ll all return to our homes. This is Christmas Eve, I hope you have a wonderful evening and a fantastic day tomorrow. I hope you’ll come back on Sunday—we’ll talk more about Bethlehem, which means “house of bread.” We’ll take Communion and remember what the gift God gave us on that first Christmas is really all about. Jesus came to make peace between earth and heaven. Between you and God.
As you return to your homes tonight, remember what you’ve seen and heard. Ponder it in your heart. Talk about it with everyone you see. When you notice the angel on the top of your tree, or the star, or the word “peace” printed on some wrapping paper—let it remind you of what we saw and heard here tonight. What we sang about. Talk about it with the people you’re celebrating with. This is a big deal. This is the birth of hope. This is the only peace on earth the world will ever know.
This is the birth story of the Son of God. This is the Word of the Lord. Believe in Jesus, the Christ, the Messiah, the Lord God Almighty born of a virgin in the most humble of circumstances—believe and be saved. Believe in your heart and confess it with your mouth. Be amazed. Glory to God and on earth, peace, goodwill, toward you.