“Good Grief… Christmas Is for Losers”

Are there any gifts you’re especially excited for someone to open tomorrow?

You know they’re going to love it. You can’t wait for them to peel back the paper—see that look on their face like, “Oh wow… Bruh! I can’t believe you got this for me! This is really for me? It's really mine?”

I’m looking forward to a few moments like that tomorrow. I’ll bet you are, too.

I like to think Jesus looks at Christmas Eve worship services the same way.

So, we’ve spent the last four weeks of Advent in Isaiah—passages where he talked about the arrival of the Messiah—talking to people who felt forgotten, people who were hungry and tired and surrounded by darkness. Isaiah himself was no stranger to crushing disappointment. I mean, He started his ministry serving one of the best kings, Hezekiah, but he ended up with the miserable job of preaching God’s message to the absolute worst—Hezekiah’s son Manasseh—a terrible king who not only wouldn’t listen to him, and undid all the reforms of his father Hezekiah, including bringing back pagan worship and child sacrifice—it was bad—tradition says even had Isaiah killed. I’m sure there were a lot of times when he didn’t feel particularly successful in his career as a prophet—he just kept going by faith even though he didn’t see anything good coming from it.

I think it’s safe to say he had it worse than most of us, but I’m pretty sure we can all relate to the feeling of things not going as well as we hoped. Like… 

There was this kid who grew up shy, awkward, lonely.
An only child.
Felt out of place most of his life.

He tried… and failed.
A lot.

Failed at school. Failed at sports. Couldn’t make friends.
He thought of himself as an artist but his work was rejected.
By everyone. All of his dreams stalled.
His love life didn’t go the way he hoped.
He described himself—not jokingly—as a loser.

He didn’t know what else to do, so he turned his sad life into art.

He created a story about small people with big emotions.
About disappointment.
About insecurity.
About trying—and failing—again and again.

And for once in his life, something worked.

Somehow… millions of people saw themselves in it. They could relate to this lovable loser.

You’ve probably figured out who I’m talking about by now.
A comic strip about a little boy with a big bald head…
who never quite gets it right…
and his amazing dog.

The boy who never kicks the football. Can’t fly a kite.
The dog who imagines he’s a fighter pilot.

Yeah. That one.

I’m talking about Charles Schulz—better known as the creator of Charlie Brown.

This is why Peanuts hits different. He wasn’t trying to create a typical cute or clever comic strip. He drew himself. The awkward kid. The anxious kid. The one who felt like a loser most of the time. He didn’t pretend the world was okay, and his honesty connected with the world. 

Peanuts launched in 1950 with just 7 newspapers.
In 1965, he was asked to create a TV Christmas special.

And Schulz had a very specific goal. He wanted to push back against what Christmas was becoming. All the noise. All the buying. All the pressure. He wanted to say, “We’re missing it. We’re forgetting what this is actually about.”

The network executives were… nervous.

They thought it was too slow. Too religious.

And they were especially uncomfortable with one particular moment.

The big moment.

When Charlie Brown, completely fed up with how the school Christmas play is going, in desperation asks the question the show was trying to answer:

“Does anyone know what Christmas is all about?”

And Linus steps forward. “Sure, Charlie Brown. Lights please…”

A single spotlight.
A small voice.
No jokes.

And he recites—straight from Luke chapter 2.

Not a summary.
Not a paraphrase.
The actual Christmas story.

And when Linus says, “Fear not…”

Almost unnoticed—He drops his security blanket.

Schulz insisted on that detail.

Because when the good news is actually heard…
When it’s received…
When the light shines in the darkness…
fear loosens its grip.

Isaiah said it like this:

I will say to the prisoners, ‘Come out in freedom,’ and to those in darkness, ‘Come into the light.’ They will be my sheep, grazing in green pastures and on hills that were previously bare. They will neither hunger nor thirst. The searing sun will not reach them anymore. For the LORD in his mercy will lead them; he will lead them beside cool waters. Isaiah 49:9-10

Pretty strong echoes of Psalm 23 going on here. The Lord is my Shepherd I shall not want… green pastures… cool waters. In Revelation, when Jesus makes everything good at the end of time, He quotes Isaiah, “They will neither hunger nor thirst.”

Isaiah is talking to people that life was not working out for. War was coming—exile and captivity. Darkness. They were feeling like big time losers.

The same way we feel stuck sometimes. Trapped in a life we didn’t choose. Hungry and thirsty for all kinds of things we hoped for but those things just never showed up. That drive for success and love that other people seem to have but always seems out of reach for us. So we get discouraged. Worn down by year after year of it just not happening. Like Charlie Brown. Like Charles Schulz.

We feel like screaming out, “Does anyone know what this is all about?”

And Linus steps up with an answer. The answer.

Fear not! He lets go of his fears.

That blanket?
All of our security blankets…
We use them to hide our fear. But the blankets themselves are just different kinds of captivity. False security. All the things we cling to for comfort but keep us stuck and in darkness.

But then the Word of God does what it always does.

It sets people free. It brings light.

The network executives didn’t like it at all: “This is going to be a problem.” It was almost unheard of to read Scripture like that on network TV.
Schulz refused to cut it.

He famously said something like, “If we don’t tell the real meaning of Christmas, who will?”

 The network planned to air it once… and then shelve it.

But that moment—the one they were so afraid of—became the heart of it all.

It wasn’t shelved.
It wasn’t forgotten.
It’s been replayed every year since.
Charlie Brown and friends were on the cover of Time magazine that same year.
Peanuts was printed in thousands of newspapers—still is.

The Christmas special has been watched hundreds of millions of times.

It changed the world, and continues to change the world…
Because God’s Word does what it always does.
It never returns to Him without doing what He sends it forth to do… 

It shines light into the dark.
It comforts the afflicted.
It will not be silenced.

Just like Isaiah said.

God doesn’t just hear cries from a distance.
He answers them.

He doesn’t just sit with us in the dark.
He calls us out of it.

He sends a Light that leads us home.

God’s Word doesn’t return empty.

Not in Isaiah’s day.
Not in Bethlehem.
Not on a TV screen in 1965.
Not in this room tonight.

I love that God used Charles Schultz to teach the world about Christmas. Because Christmas isn’t mainly for people who feel successful or have it all figured out. It’s for all of us who feel like something is missing—like something is very wrong.

Most of us put on a happy face but some of us probably aren’t feeling it this year.

Some of us will be alone. That’s not great.

Some of us will be surrounded by people, all the food, the eggnog, the cookies—people opening presents—all the things that make tomorrow special.

But maybe something will still feel missing. Or someone.

Another year winding down—maybe you feel like things aren’t working out:
“I did everything right and still lost.”
“God helped other people… why didn’t He help me.”

This time of year just amplifies any emptiness we were already dealing with. With all the talk of joy to the world, but things aren’t the way they should be. There’s bad news on every channel—not sure what a baby in a manger can do about it. 

Of course the church is filled with people who are all about it—believe Jesus is the ultimate solution to everything wrong with the world—but for whatever reason, a lot of us are still not exactly feeling merry and bright.

If joy feels far away tonight, hear this:

God is shining His light…
He doesn’t wait for you to feel ready.
He doesn’t wait for you to feel brave.
He doesn’t even wait for you to say, “Lights please!”

Faith doesn’t make us immune to sadness or disappointment.
Christians don’t feel less pain or have less problems, all we know is the troubles of this world don’t get the last word. 

We’re all just standing there like Linus—
Desperately holding onto our silly blankets… all the things we cling to that can’t save us…
until the Word does its work.

“Sing for joy, O heavens! Rejoice, O earth! Burst into song, O mountains! For the LORD has comforted his people and will have compassion on them in their suffering.” Isaiah 49:13

God sees us, and He comforts us. He has compassion on us because He knows all about our suffering. That’s the whole point. Jesus came to bring us something to sing about—that first Christmas when heaven met earth and brought this message to echo through the ages. A message that creates faith in Him and His love for us—His promises to us. 

Christmas is God saying,

“Fear not.”
“I have not forgotten you.”
“I’ve come to lead you home.”

And whether joy spontaneously bursts out of you tonight…
or whether it has to grow slowly and quietly, over time…

Our response is to sing for joy and rejoice. Whether we’re feeling it or not. We sing as an act of defiance against the darkness—an act of trust because comfort is promised—not because suffering is gone.

No matter what disappointments you’re facing this year.
No matter how many things haven’t worked out…
I really hope you can hear this tonight… Because of the baby in the manger, who lived a perfect life, died on the cross, rose from the dead, and promises eternal life to all who call on His name and believe… 

You are definitely not a loser. You win it all. Everything.

The gift of love and salvation is all yours because of Jesus.

Wrapped.
Given.
Guaranteed.

But maybe you feel like life keeps handing you empty boxes.
So, when you’re handed the gift of the Gospel—that Jesus came to save you…
You feel like Charlie Brown: “This won’t work. It never does.”
You don’t want to get your hopes up again.

That’s a good place to be. The Gospel isn’t given to winners, it’s given to people who are humble enough to receive it.

Do you hear the promise of the angel? Fear not! Behold! Feel the blanket slipping out of your hand? You don’t have to be in control. “I bring you tidings of great joy!” What are you holding onto? Your hands need to be empty. God has something really good for you. “For unto you is born a Savior!”

Sure, it’s the same gift He got you last year, and the year before. But it’s still the best.
I speak for all the angels of heaven, and the Son of God Himself when I say, I can’t wait for you to open it—and see the look on your face when you realize it really is yours.

Merry Christmas, Amen.