A Thrill of Hope | Sunday, December 6, 2020

For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given; and the government will be upon His shoulder. And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of His government and peace there will be no end, upon the throne of David and over His kingdom, to order it and establish it with judgment and justice from that time forward, even forever. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this. (Isaiah 9:6-7)

This year's strange and distanced Christmas can become your most meaningful memorial of the One who brings joy and a sure and steadfast hope.

A Triggered Memory

It is likely that you have a single favorite memory of Christmas from when you were a child. You probably don't even have to think very long for it to come to the surface. Memories are an amazing thing. They can be tied to a song, connected to an object, attached to a place or a person. Interestingly, one of the biggest triggers for memories are smells, and it's amazing how a triggering moment can almost overwhelm us with a flashback.

Something like that happened to me sixteen years ago this last week. At the time I was working at a small international Bible college in northwest Germany, in a city called Siegen. During the fall and winter of 2004 I planned a short trip to fly from Cologne to Stansted, London, to visit friends who lived east of London. When I was nine years old my family had moved to London while my dad worked there, and we lived there a little less than a year—but that period left a big mark on my mind and heart.

I hadn't been back to London in about fifteen years, but we still had connections in the town where I had lived, a town called Epping. On the first Monday I was there I got up early and walked from where I was staying up to the High Street, then down to Station Road—the road we had lived on—to house number 36, the house we lived in. From there, at about eight in the morning, I walked the same path I had walked nearly every day to my school, Ivy Chimney School, where I attended third grade in England. On that morning walk the triggered memory happened. It was a smell connected with that place that triggered a wave of emotion as I remembered what may have been my favorite Christmas memory from when I was a kid.

A Quiet Family Christmas

I grew up in one of those families with a mom who loved to entertain guests—she still does. Rarely was our house not Grand Central Station, with many people stopping by. She still has a sign that says "Sit long and talk much." Holidays were especially busy; it was not abnormal for my mom to entertain forty or fifty people or more for Thanksgiving and Christmas. After a while you get used to all the chaos—as we're learning this year—and you not only get used to it, you begin to expect it and enjoy it.

My favorite childhood Christmas memory was the Christmas we were 5,500 miles from San Diego, in London, with just my parents, my sister, my brothers, and me. On that November morning in 2004 that memory came flashing back, triggered by the smell of diesel exhaust on a cold morning walk.

What's your memory? Why is that childhood memory so important to you? For me it was special because there weren't any distractions, none of the chaos. It was a quiet family Christmas. I don't remember the presents that year—though I'm sure micro machines were involved. I don't remember the decorations or what we ate. There's a lot more that I don't remember than I do remember. But it is a happy memory, one that still triggers emotion thirty-one years later.

An Opportunity in a Difficult Year

I know 2020 is not the year you expected when the clock struck midnight last New Year's Eve, because it isn't the year I expected either. Many of you are frustrated with much of what has happened this year, especially the response by our authorities and leaders—locally, at the state level, and nationally. I'm frustrated too. For most of this year we've been asked to socially and physically distance, and that's been difficult. Aside from the fact that our vision and mission at Cross Connection Church is built entirely around connecting with God and one another, it is human nature to be in community. God created us for connection. That's really why you don't like social distancing—it is against our very nature as God made us.

I'll be the first to say I haven't been entirely obedient to the regulations, and I think many of you haven't been either. I enjoyed Thanksgiving with friends and family, and I'm not going to apologize for it, and I plan to enjoy Christmas as well. But I want to encourage you to take this opportunity—the restrictions present us with an opportunity—to create new and different memories at this most wonderful time of the year.

What made Christmas so meaningful to me when I was nine? Two things come to mind. First, it was different from all the other Christmases. Christmas 2020 is going to be different from our normal holidays. We can be upset and angry about the difference, or we can make the most of every opportunity, as we're exhorted to do in the book of Ephesians. Second, that Christmas was meaningful because it was Christmas at a distance. My family was physically distanced from all our extended family and friends, and it was just us—and that was special.

Normally just before Christmas Day my wife's extended family comes to our house for a huge celebration—sixty people last year. This year that's not happening, and we're bummed. So Christmas will be different. But it doesn't have to be dreary and terrible.

Christmas Is a Memorial

You may be asking what all of this has to do with the Bible. Humor me. Christmas is about memories—it really is. Christmas is a memorial. A memorial is something—a structure, an event, or an institution—established to remind us of a person or an event.

Reason this out. Christmases come and go every year like clockwork, and most of them pass with very little thought, almost as if they happen around us. Some of the cultural trappings we like; many we complain about. But the gifts of Christmas, the holiday itself, and all the things it holds should be to us a reminder—a reminder of the gift that has been given to us. All the sights, the sounds, the smells, the tastes, the experiences of this holiday ought to be triggers, just like that smell of diesel exhaust on the road in England was a trigger for me. Hopefully all the cultural trappings of Christmas are triggers for us to remember the gift we are celebrating.

What gift is that? It is central to Isaiah 9: "For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given... His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace... upon the throne of David... even forever."

What makes a memory stand out? Most of the time the memories that stick are the ones outside the ordinary—the extraordinary. That's why the Christmas from when I was nine sticks out: it was different. This Christmas will stick out too, because 2020 is different. We need to make the most of the opportunity this season is providing, so we can remember and remind others what this season is really about.

The people you interact with—neighbors, co-workers, family, and friends, many of them no longer churchgoers—have a joyful corporate memory of Christmas they can call to mind quickly, and that memory triggers emotion. We need to seize the opportunity to use that memory to remind them what is so meaningful about Christmas. "Unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given." The Gospel of Luke says of His coming, "He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Highest; and the Lord God will give Him the throne of His father David. And He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of His kingdom there will be no end." His name is Jesus, and He came to save His people from their sins.

Trials That Refine Us

There are a lot of things in 2020 that have stirred up my flesh and made me want to complain, murmur, and have a generally bad attitude. I confess there have been times throughout these challenging weeks and months when I have given in to that, and God bless my wife and kids for putting up with it when my flesh boils over. I'm sure you can relate.

I've shared with you many times before that we really get to see our true sinful nature when we are sick, tired, hungry, and stressed. Those things come out. And now I think we can add: when we are under lockdown. Lockdown makes our sin nature boil to the surface in a big way. God always knew those impurities—our frustration, anger, murmuring, and complaining—were already deep in our hearts. The trial, which is meant to try and purify us, brings those things to the surface so we can see them, acknowledge them, confess them, and have Jesus take them away. God wants to use the challenging things we go through as a purifying instrument, because He is the refiner.

So don't miss this opportunity. If Jesus doesn't come back immediately, then twenty years from now you will remember Christmas 2020. Your kids will remember it; your grandkids will remember it. My hope is that you and I and our families will look back and say, "That was such a meaningful Christmas." Even with all the craziness in the world, it can be a meaningful Christmas if we take the time to remember what it's really about and to share that with others. Maybe because this is the Christmas you share the good news of Jesus with someone special, it will become all the more meaningful. Maybe because it's quieter, more focused, it will be more meaningful—that's my prayer.

Everything that happens in the lead-up to and celebration of Christmas is meant to be a memorial, established to remind us that Jesus, the reason for the season, came to give us what we deeply need and desperately desire. Christmas is about God becoming a man to dwell among us, to bring grace and truth and forgiveness and salvation. He makes peace possible—peace with God and peace with one another—and He brings hope and joy in abundance.

The Advent of a Sure and Steadfast Hope

If you tuned in last week, I shared that the advent of Jesus—His coming to this world 2,000 years ago—is the advent of joy. We sing, "Joy to the world, the Lord is come." The coming of Jesus means the coming of joy, an opportunity for joy to be fully realized in our lives, a joy increasing unto abundance for eternity.

This morning I want to point out that the advent of Jesus is also the coming of a sure and steadfast hope. This concept of hope becomes all the more consequential when we are going through challenging times—and a lot of people are right now. And the news we are being given, whether from the right, the left, or what you believe is the center, is not very hope-producing. If anything, the corporate news media and the flood of information on social media is more hope-deflating than hope-producing.

The wise king Solomon, three thousand years ago, observed: "Hope deferred makes the heart sick." Interestingly, the Old Testament is almost one story after another of hope deferred. From Genesis chapter 3, where humanity falls into sin, all the way through Malachi, you basically have thousands of years of hope deferral and heart sickness for the people of Israel, who waited in hope for the coming of the One who would bring hope—the Messiah. By the time you get to the Gospel period, there is much heart sickness among the people of God.

But the coming of the Messiah, Jesus, is the coming of hope—not a wishy-washy, wishful-thinking hope, not a blindly optimistic hope, but a sure and steadfast hope. Another famous Christmas song says: "Long lay the world in sin and error pining, till He appeared and the soul felt its worth. A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn." The coming of Jesus is the breaking forth of a new and glorious day that brings rejoicing to a weary world.

In all the chaos and heart sickness of 2020, the world needs the hope only Jesus brings. His hope causes His people to stand with rejoicing, because the hope He gives does not disappoint. Writing about this hope, the author of Hebrews says, "This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast." The souls of many—their hearts and minds—have been shaken and tossed in 2020, but Jesus gives a hope that is an anchor for our hearts and minds and souls, sure and steadfast. That is what He brings.

The advent of Jesus is the advent of joy, increasing unto abundance for eternity, and the advent of hope, a sure and steadfast anchor for our souls. This joy and hope can be yours as you put your trust and faith in Jesus, which I hope you will do this season as you come to discover who Jesus is and what He really brings.

Closing Prayer

Father God, I thank You so much for the work You are doing even when we are physically distanced from one another as Your people. Even though we're not gathering together in our building, we are still gathering as one in Christ, bound together by Your Spirit. I pray that You would work in and through my brothers and sisters, that You'd work through Your church to be a light shining during this time.

There are a lot of people near us—living next door, working in the same office, going to the same school—who are depressed, in darkness, under the bondage of sin, and afraid, because their hope is not sure and steadfast. Their hope is temporal, only in the things of this world, and their joy is connected only to good things happening, so it's hard for them to have joy in the midst of challenging circumstances. They've lost hope; their hearts are sick. God, I pray that You would give Your church such a bright and shining joy and hope that it would be magnetic, and that You would draw people to us so we can share the good news of Your gospel with them.

Jesus, Your coming to this world, Your advent, is the coming of joy that increases unto abundance for eternity, and the hope You give is a sure and steadfast anchor for our hearts, minds, and souls. So cause that to overflow from Your church, we pray. We ask this in Jesus' name. Amen.

And now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.