Micah 5:2-5a - Christmas Paradoxes - December 19, 2021

These days leading up to Christmas are always kind of weird, aren’t they? They’re filled with conflicting actions and emotions and attitudes? We might even call these days paradoxical. In the Northern Hemisphere this is the darkest time of year – and so we try to chase away the darkness by hanging lights on our homes. This is supposedly the happiest time of the year and yet studies shows that more people are depressed now than any other time of year. Christmas is idealized in movies as being a calm and relaxing time with family – when the reality is that for many of us it’s the most frantic and busy time of year and sometimes all we really want is to be alone. And who do we call to preach about the most important event in human history? Little children. As paradoxical as our experience of Christmas may be, it pales in comparison to the first Christmas. Micah walks us through three of these paradoxes.

The first involves the location of that first Christmas: but you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, from you, will go out the one who will be the ruler for me in Israel. That means exactly what you think it means: Bethlehem was a small village – a “clan” in military terms was 1000 soldiers (1 Samuel 8:12) – so the population of Bethlehem was less than 1000 families. And God’s chosen ruler is supposed to come out of this small, insignificant, backwater town? People living at the time didn’t think it possible. The wise men didn’t travel to Bethlehem to find the new king that the star told them had been born – they went to the capital, to Jerusalem, because everyone knows that important people come from important places (Matthew 2:1-12). Mary and Joseph didn’t even voluntarily travel to Bethlehem – they were compelled to by Caesar Augustus (Luke 2:1-5).

And yet it’s not the first time that God chose to raise up a ruler for Israel from the little town of Bethlehem. 1000 years earlier, God sent Samuel to Bethlehem, to the family of Jesse, to anoint not one of Jesse’s seven older sons, but his youngest, David, a little boy, a lowly shepherd (1 Samuel 16:1-13). And yet, by God’s grace and power, David became the greatest King Israel would ever know (1 Chronicles 18:14; Acts 13:22; 1 Chronicles 14:17). Therefore, God’s choice of this little town was no accident. That’s our first Christmas paradox: a big thing, a mighty ruler of Israel will come from the lowly town of Bethlehem.

The second paradox has to do with this ruler’s hidden identity: his goings forth are from the beginning, from the days of eternity. We have a beginning; it’s called our conception. So did this baby, and yet Micah says that his origins go back far beyond Bethlehem 2000 years ago, beyond his ancestor David 3000 years ago, even before the very creation of the world. Why does this matter? It matters because the Bible says all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23) and the wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23). It matters because Psalm 49 says no one can by any means redeem himself. He cannot give God a ransom for himself – (Yes, the ransom for their souls is costly. Any payment would fall short.) (Psalm 49:7-8). Did I really have to bring sin and death and judgment up on this happy day? In front of the children? Why can’t we just ignore our sins at this happiest time of the year and deal with them later? Because unless we realize our sins we will never really understand Christmas. You might be able to convince the fat man in the red suit to take you off his naughty list – but our holy God can’t and won’t simply ignore the fact that we have placed things and people before him, misused his name, despised his Word, disrespected his authorities, hurt and hated and lusted, stolen time and defrauded people, ruined reputations, and been discontent with what God has given us. And it doesn’t matter how good you or I try to be this Christmas – we can never make up for the evil things we’ve done every day of our lives.

That’s why the eternal One, the Son of God, stepped down from his throne in heaven and humbled himself to be born of a peasant woman in a dirty stable in the lowly town of Bethlehem. He was born of a woman, so that he would be born under the law, in order to redeem those under the law (Galatians 4:4-5). Nothing we could ever do could appease God’s righteous wrath at our disobedience and sin. Nothing less than the precious blood of Christ…a lamb without blemish or spot (1 Peter 1:19) could atone for our sins. And that’s our second Christmas paradox: the eternal One, the Son of God himself, became a child for us, to save us.

The third paradox involves what the eternal One, the Son of God, came to this earth to do. Micah says he will stand and shepherd with the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God. They will dwell securely, for at that time he will be great to the ends of the earth. This one will be their peace. Most of us have never raised sheep or goats – and therefore we tend to picture shepherds like that stained glass window over there: calm, clean and snuggling a cute little lamb. That’s not what the occupation of shepherd looked like then – or even now. A shepherd’s life was dirty and bloody, dangerous and often violent. More importantly, that is not what Jesus came here to be or do: the Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep (John 10:11). In a few moments the children will repeat the angel’s announcement to the shepherds: glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward mankind (Luke 2:14). Peace between God and mankind is the ultimate message of Christmas. But don’t ever forget what that peace – peace with God – cost. As you celebrate with your families, as you look at nativity scenes, as you sing your favorite Christmas carols – remember that the shepherd’s praises would soon become cries of crucify him (Luke 23:21); that the same Mary who cradled her newborn’s head would live to see a crown of thorns viciously pressed into his skull (John 19:2); that the tiny hands and feet that were once wrapped in swaddling clothes would be nailed to a tree; and that the one who came from heaven on Christmas would willingly suffer hell for us on Good Friday (Mark 15:34). Don’t ever forget that in the background of that peaceful manger in Bethlehem is the unimaginable violence of Calvary’s cross.

But also never forget that because Jesus endured the violence of men’s words and whips and nails and God’s wrath and hell’s fury – you now have peace. Perfect peace. Peace that nothing in the world can take away. The violence that Jesus endured means that you have peace with God. You are right with him. Heaven is open to you. Isn’t that the greatest Christmas paradox of all? That Jesus endured hell to give us heaven? That he suffered the violence of men and the judgment of God to give us peace? And this paradox is why no matter what is happening in our world, in your family, or with your health – this will be a Merry Christmas, because through the miracle of Jesus’ birth and the violence of his death, we have peace with God (Romans 5:1).

Christmas is often weird – there are so many contradictory and paradoxical things about it. The first Christmas was no different. God chooses small towns, little babies, and the hatred of evil, violent men to carry out his plan of salvation. He still does. He uses unimpressive means – an ordinary man, ordinary water, and ordinary bread and wine – to bring people to Christ, to forgive their sins and to give them everlasting life. This morning, he will use these ordinary children to proclaim the best and most important news the world has ever heard: today in the town of David, a Savior was born for you. He is Christ the Lord (Luke 2:11). Don’t let the many paradoxes of Christmas trouble you; cherish them, for God always chooses to give his best gifts in the most paradoxical ways. Merry Christmas! Amen.