in your Bibles to Luke chapter 2. Luke chapter 2, you can find that on page 857 if you're using the Pew edition Bible. Luke is the third book of the New Testament, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and then John. Let us pray as we come to God's Word. Our Father, we thank you that he who is rich beyond all splendor became poor for us, that he who is God beyond all praising became man for us, that he who is love beyond all telling became our Emmanuel, God with us. Our Father, in this season, we long for that good news. We need that good news. And so, our Father, as our hearts wait for you, long for you, teach us to rest in you, give us that news that we so desperately need. We pray that the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts will be pleasing and acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen. Luke chapter 2, we will read the first 12 verses. In those days, a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration when Quirinius was governor of Syria, and all went to be registered, each to his own town. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the town of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be registered with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. And in the same region, there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with great fear. And the angel said to them, fear not. For behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a savior who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign to you. You will find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. Praise God for the gospel of his son. Beloved, we're going to be spending our time this Advent season camped out in those fields nearby with the shepherds of Luke 2. Everyone loves the shepherds. Probably we love the shepherds in the same way we love decorating our houses in the shabby chic style that's so popular these days, you know, old Barn wood that's exposed, weather roughened ladders leaning against the wall just right Old farm tools that we found at an antique store, hang those on the wall just right It's stuff that's rough around the edges, it's quaint, but it's also stylish We kind of like the shepherds the same way. They're perfect to add a homey touch to the front of our Christmas cards. I have an Italian nativity that's been the highlight of my Christmas for many, many years. And so I love setting it up. And all the shepherds have their perfect little childish complexions. And their hair is perfectly windswept as they carry their lambs and go to Bethlehem and listen to the angels singing. It's very quaint. It's very beautiful. It's kind of the same way that we like watching those movies about homeless street kids who are rough around the edges, but they're secretly a poet, and then some teacher comes and unlocks their inner potential, and they kind of work their way up, and it's a beautiful start to a new life. We love that, as long as those homeless kids stay on our TV. as long as they stay on the front of a Christmas card, as long as we can take those tools out of the barn and hang them in our house and display it just right with the right amount of stylish distressing. Everyone wants the distressed barn wood table, but no one wants to sleep in a barn. Everyone wants the feel-good story of the homeless kid, but no one wants to foster that kid and invite him to stay the night. Everyone wants the story of the shepherds, but no one really wants to go dwell in the fields nearby with them. Luke doesn't include this story to be cute. He didn't look forward through time and say, what would sell a lot of Christmas cards? You know, this nice story of the shepherds, that would play nicely, they could make little claymation specials about it, I think that'd be really nice. He included this story because it makes a point about humility. including the shepherds here at the birth of Jesus, shows us how scandalous the story of Christ's coming really is. And that's where we're going to camp this Advent season. Advent is supposed to make us a little bit uncomfortable. So as we prepare for Christmas, we're going to spend our time in this scandal, in this humility. We're going to camp in the muck of life as only a shepherd can. This Sunday we're going to focus on the first eight verses of Luke chapter 2, a tale of humility. And we're going to look at three facets of this story, three points this morning that highlight the unexpected nature of this story. First, we're going to look at a tale of two sons. Second, we're gonna look at the tale of a manger. And third, we're gonna look at the tale of the shepherds. So first, we're gonna look at this tale of two sons. Now Luke's gospel, I mean, we started in chapter two. There's a whole chapter, chapter one of prologue. All this important detail, you can go home and read it. I encourage you to do so. It's about Zachariah and Elizabeth and Mary and Joseph and John the Baptist. It's a very important part of the story. It sets the stage for Christ to come. But it's not until here in Luke chapter 2 that Jesus enters the scene. Now, when Luke wrote this gospel, it was probably 30, maybe even 50 years after Jesus had died. A lot of time had passed. People did not, in those days, have nice bound Bibles like we have. They didn't even have unbound Bibles. But that didn't stop the gospel from going forth. There was 30 to 50 years of the gospel being proclaimed. These eyewitnesses, like the apostles, would go out and they would preach the story of Jesus and the church would spread. But they didn't have written documents to kind of go with their message. I mean, maybe a few of Paul's letters were circulating by this time. Maybe Mark, a few copies of Mark's gospel, Matthew's gospel, maybe they were out there. But most churches didn't have access to the story of Jesus written down. So Luke's account was meant to be sent out and flesh out. Here's what you've heard about Jesus. Let me provide you with some more details, some more teaching, some more truth. People would be hungry to get this stuff. They'd be thirsty to hear more about Jesus. Tell me more about my Savior. And finally Luke chapter 2 verse 1, here's where Jesus is coming on the scene. We've been dying to hear this. And it starts with all this technical talk about decrees and censuses, cenci, whatever the plural of census is, and registrations, all this technical government stuff. Caesar Augustus, verse 2, who was the governor at Syria at the time? Why does Luke have all this in here? Well actually this is very shocking to include the names of Caesar Augustus, Quirinius, all this historical detail. This is very shocking. C.S. Lewis called this an example of the scandal of Christianity. Because think, Luke's gospel is now entering the world of the Roman Empire, and there's a lot of other voices out there. Around the time that Luke's gospel was written, there was this cult around this figure who was named Mithra, and it was gaining popularity in the empire. a pagan cult. And many scholars nowadays have pointed out that Mithra and Jesus, they have very similar stories. They were both supposedly born of a virgin. There's a lot of similarities. They're both associated with the idea of covenant. They're both associated with the idea of fulfilling God's promises. They're both associated with the coming of the light. There's actually a lot of similarity between Mithra and Jesus. But Mithra is a mysterious figure. He's a legendary figure. He operates outside of time. His story kind of happens once upon a time, a long time ago. We don't really know where it happened. It's just kind of this cultic mythical figure. But Luke is telling his story, and he puts it very firmly in real time. Luke is saying, this really happened in our world, not in some mythical realm of legend. This story, it may sound like a fairy tale. It's full of hope and truth and meaning, just like the best fairy tales are. This story is a story of an impossible rescue, like you would hear about in a fairy tale. But Luke is claiming it really happened in time, not once upon a time in a strange land. But when Caesar Augustus was the emperor, when Quirinius was governor of Syria in the little town of Bethlehem, you can look it up, Luke has the receipts. Luke isn't telling some hopeful legend meant to inspire us. He's not telling us some mysterious myth Luke is claiming that this story of Jesus is the true story of the whole world. This is a story that has invaded history, and it's a story that will invade your life in the same way. It's a story that invaded the world of the Roman Empire. The mere mention of Caesar Augustus sets up a contrast in the ears and minds of the readers of Luke's Gospel. If you have studied Roman history or if you read a lot of Shakespeare plays, you know who Caesar Augustus was. Julius Caesar was a conqueror who created the Roman Empire. And Caesar Augustus was the one who then made it great. When Caesar Augustus became the emperor, he brought peace and prosperity like the world had never seen. He brought an end to this bloody civil war. There were three men all saying, well, Julius Caesar died, but I'm going to take his place as the next emperor. There were three men fighting over that, and Augustus beat both of them. And when he beat both of these other emperors, he said, I'm the true heir to Caesar. And to make it real, he took Caesar's name. That's why he's called Caesar Augustus. And he was actually legally declared to be Julius Caesar's son. Once he became emperor, he took it a step further and said, you know, Julius Caesar, of blessed memory, by the way, he was a god. Let's all worship him. And oh, I guess if I'm his adopted son, that means I, Caesar Augustus, am the son of a god. So please start calling me son of God. There were all these poems and songs that were going around the Roman Empire at that time, calling Caesar Augustus the son of God. And then these poets would add, Caesar Augustus, the savior of the world, the bringer of peace, the bringer of light. And by the time Jesus was born, they were building temples to Caesar Augustus all over the eastern side of the empire. So when Luke mentions the name Caesar Augustus, all of these bells are ringing in people's minds. They're thinking, oh Caesar Augustus, you mean the Son of God, you mean the Savior of the world, you mean the bringer of light. Luke is creating a confrontation between two men who claim the title Son of God, between two men who claim the title Savior of the world, between the Empire of Rome and the Kingdom of God. This is bold for Luke to do, to place this story in that history. By the time Luke wrote this, there were Christians who were dying for saying Jesus is Lord instead of Caesar is Lord. Luke is setting up this contrast. And it's quite a contrast. One man has the power to register the whole world. He says, hey, I want to know how many people are in my empire. Do it. And then it's done. The other person is introduced as a helpless baby who can't even say his own name or count to two. One is sitting on the throne in Rome. One is sitting in a manger. One is attended by the most efficient and powerful military to ever walk the earth. The other is visited by shepherds. And yet, Luke is writing this convinced that Jesus has a better claim to the title Savior of the world. A better claim to the title, Son of God. Are you convinced? Which language appeals to you more? The language of power and might and success and reputation and wealth? The language of Rome? That's Caesar's language. Or the language of humility and obscurity, the language of the stranger and the outcast. That's Jesus' language. That's the language of Luke 2. And it's the language spoken in our second point, the tale that the manger tells. Sometimes if you're playing fetch with a dog, the dog won't see where the ball went. And so then the dog will look to you because the dog thinks that you're the solver of all of his problems. And so you'll kind of point to where the ball went. But some breeds will understand that. They can be really smart. But most breeds, they'll just look at your hand. You're pointing to where the ball is, but they'll just look at your hand, not at where you're pointing. Sometimes we make that kind of mistake when we think of the Christmas story in Luke 2. I mean, Luke 2 is the story of Jesus' birth that we all know. I mean, it's got all the drama. It's the only one that mentions that there's no room at the inn. It's the only one that mentions the manger. It's the only one that mentions angels singing to the shepherds or to anyone. Most of the details that we think of when we think of Christmas come from Luke, none of the other Gospels. And so we obsess over these details. You know, we put the manger on Christmas cards. Some churches will put a manger in the front of their sanctuary. We sing songs like, Away in a Manger. Most of the Christmas songs we sing are based on Luke 2. It wouldn't be Christmas without it. And I'm all for that. That's perfectly appropriate. I mean, who doesn't get teary-eyed when Linus reads Luke 2 at the end of a Charlie Brown Christmas? I mean, my nativity is probably the heirloom that I'm most excited about, and that's fine. But every year around Christmas, all these conspiracy theories start creeping out into the church. I mean, if you're not aware of them, watch the internet over the next few weeks, or check out whatever Christian magazine you subscribe to, and you're going to see these conspiracy theories. There's going to be this flood of articles from now until December 25 that will say, well, Jesus wouldn't have actually been born in a stable, because back then they didn't really build stables the way we build stables. He probably would have been born in a cave, because they used caves to house the animals. And then someone else will say, well actually it probably wasn't even like that at all because the word in verse 7, there's no room for them in the inn. The word that Luke uses for inn isn't actually the word for a commercial hotel. That's an entirely different word in Greek. The Greek word used here is more like the word for guest room that Mary and Joseph probably wanted to spend their time in Bethlehem with a relative or a friend and then they knocked on the door and they were like, well, there's no room in our guest room because houses in Bethlehem were two stories high. The second story would be where everyone slept and they might have an area for guests there. The first story would be kind of a common area and sometimes people would put their animals in that first story, like their chickens or a goat or whatever, and these relatives would have said, oh, there's no room in our guest room, but you can sleep on the first floor. We'll lay out some cots for you and just ignore the goat over there. So people will write an article about that, that Mary and Joseph were in this house because there was no room in the guest room. There probably wouldn't have been an innkeeper. Some people will say there probably wasn't even animals, et cetera, et cetera. Every year there's gonna be new commentaries and new articles about this passage trying to like get you to throw out your nativity scene or burn your Christmas cards or whatever. And you know what? Some of them are probably, probably right, maybe. But before you throw out your nativity scene, consider this. I think all of those kinds of arguments about this passage are like the dog looking at the hand, not at the thing that they're pointing to. Luke 2 doesn't actually give us that much detail. I mean, our imaginations over the centuries have added a lot to Luke 2. But whether Jesus was born in a stable or a cave or a dusty corner of a first floor, what Luke is pointing to is still clear. that Jesus was born in obscurity. Wherever it was, it was not a normal place for a baby to be born. His birth was inconvenient. His birth was strange. There was no crib for a bed. They had to use a feeding trough. Luke doesn't have to include other details. He gives us enough to know that Jesus was born in obscurity. Luke didn't have to tell the story this way, by the way. I mean, none of the other Gospels chose to give us these details. John and Mark just jump right in with Jesus as a grown adult. Matthew talks about the birth of Jesus, but he doesn't tell this part of the story. He says Jesus was born, location unmentioned. The next thing we know after Jesus was born, these wealthy wise men are coming to honor him and bow before him and give him these expensive gifts. Luke could have done the same thing. He could have just shaded over this part of the story. I mean, the Gospels leave out a lot of stuff that Jesus did. Luke could have left this out. Jesus could have burst on the scene fully formed, full of glory like he does in Mark. But Luke parks on these embarrassing details, these humble details. Luke points them out. He wants them to draw our attention. He encourages us to imagine the scenario. It's not wrong to imagine that there were animals milling about. I mean, Jesus was laid in a manger. It's not wrong to imagine the obscurity, the strangeness of this scene. Luke invites us to feel Mary and Joseph's rush, their sense of emergency, their awkwardness in this situation. Luke invites us to dwell on the humility of Jesus. And that's just compounded when Luke turns our attention in verse 8 to the shepherds in the fields abiding. Now, shepherds would not have been a natural choice to receive the news of the birth of God's Son. We might go the route Matthew did and say, no, let's focus on these royal figures from the east. They're much more impressive. But Luke chooses to dwell with the shepherds, these guys who are rough around the edges. They keep weird hours. They smell like sheep. They're dirty. Not the sort of people you want in the delivery room. And yet, in Luke's telling of the story, these are the first people to hear the news. They're the first people to meet Jesus. This past week, I bought a brand new children's book about the birth of Jesus. It's really, really great. It's called, A Very Noisy Christmas. It's playing with this idea that when Jesus was born, it was anything but a silent night. It would have been a crazy night. It would have been a loud night. I mean, a baby is born and laid in a manger. It implies a lack of preparation. It implies franticness. There's a troop of dirty, dusty shepherds traipsing in, in the middle of the night, right from the fields. Who knows what they have on their boots? It's a noisy, messy Christmas. It would have been chaos. The little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes, I doubt it. That's why I like, by the way, the bulletin cover today, because it's loud, it's crazy, there's a dog barking, there's all kinds of crazy stuff going on. That's what it would have been like when Jesus was born. A noisy night. The whole story, the way it's told, the people that are included in Luke's telling, it's meant to point to the Old Testament truth that we read earlier in our service, our assurance of pardon, Psalm 138, verse 6 says, For though the Lord is high, He gives regard to the lowly. God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble. This is Christ, our King. He's come to us in the most unexpected way. This is the story that Luke chooses to give the waiting church, to introduce them to their Savior. This is the way God chose to reveal Himself to us in humility in a manger surrounded by shepherds. What are we to do with an introduction like this? It offends our sensibilities. Let's be honest, the language we usually speak, the language our culture has taught us to speak is much more like the language of the Roman Empire. We are attracted to the guy in verse 1, Caesar Augustus. We're impressed with His glory. We've learned from our culture that wealth and power and might and strength and recognition, those are the things that mark greatness. Those are the things that we should pursue. Those are the things that matter. Those are the things that can save us. If we're looking for a savior of the world, we should look to a guy like Caesar. He's got it figured out. He is wise. He is savvy. He's wealthy. He's powerful. He's strong. He has military might. Those are the things that give us stability. But this Advent season, we're invited to unlearn that language. We're invited to take up the language of Christ, the language of humility. This is the way our God introduced Himself. This is the way He chose to enter our world. Remember your Reformed theology. We believe God is sovereign. We believe that God made this rescue plan before the foundations of the world were even laid. It wasn't like, oh my, the people have sinned. What am I going to do? I guess, you know, we'll just send Jesus down there and see what happens. This was exactly the way it was planned from before the foundation of the world. God's purpose in creating the world was to show His glory through Christ. This strange story is the heart of why God created the universe. Jesus chose this. In His great power, He chose to become a powerless infant. In His great wisdom, He chose to become a babbling baby. In His great kindness, He chose to tell the shepherds first. Jesus stepped willingly right into the noise, right into the mess, right into the franticness of real life. He didn't say, give me a few minutes to compose myself and then I'll associate myself with the lowly shepherds. But first, like, I need a few minutes for myself. No, from the very beginning, the meek, the lowly, those who were literally outside the city were included from the very beginning. They're not an afterthought, they're not an accident. The shepherds didn't have to wait their turn after all the powerful and wealthy and glorious and upright. Psalm 138, though the Lord is high, he gives regard to the lowly. In Luke 2, that verse is transformed. Though the Lord is high, he became the lowly. He loved the lowly. All for love's sake, he became poor. So if you feel like an outcast, if you feel lowly or lonely, or if you're struggling, if you're hurting, If you feel like the language of power and might and wealth that our world speaks is a language that you're not really included in, a language that ignores you or that oppresses you, a language you could never speak. If you feel like you've always been on the outside, come to the manger. This is Christ the King and He came for you. This is Christ the King, and He has time for you. This is Christ the King, and He welcomes you from the very beginning. From the very first moment He spent on earth, He made room for you. He accepted you. Amen. Let us pray. Our Father, we thank You for the humility of Christ. We thank you for the story, the way that Luke tells it, the story of humility, the story that reminds us that Jesus entered into our mess, entered into our noise, entered into our hurt, and willingly welcomed us. We pray that we would look to him, that we would run to him this Advent season. In his name we pray, amen.