I recently saw some YouTube videos put together by another pastor.  He spoke in one of these videos about an encounter he had with a man named Fred and his six-year-old son Sam about what they were going to do on Christmas this year. The father explained that they would get up and open their presents on Christmas morning and then they’d go to church.  The son replied, “Church?!  On Christmas?  We’re going to go to church on Christmas?”  Fred patiently explained, “Of course, that’s what Christmas is all about.  It’s about Jesus’ birth and God coming to us.” Sam said, “I know, I know, I know!  But Christmas!  Church wrecks everything!”

  The church wrecks everything.  I think my kids and probably a few others will know this feeling come tomorrow morning.  There, in the midst of the holiday hoopla, will come a major disruption.  Yes, yes Jesus coming does and tonight we come here to encounter not only the church that wrecks everything, but also the child who was born to wreck everything bad.

  It may sound a bit odd in the face of our culture’s approach to Christmas, but we dare not forget the scandal of both the manger and the cross and be lulled by the culture’s attempts to sentimentalize Christmas. We all do it and to be honest, it even happens in the church.  Notice some of the quaint and peaceful expressions that come up in our hymns compared to what was likely to be the case in actual real time and space.  “The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes, but little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes.”  Really, no crying.  He’d probably fail an Apgar test.  And the cattle mooing through the night when you’ve just given birth in a barn probably wasn’t as comforting as the hymn lyrics make it sound. 

  Or consider the opening of the beloved carol O Little Town of Bethlehem, “O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie.”   Lovely words from the author, but if we think about the tumultuous history of the Middle East, imaging Bethlehem as peaceful more expresses a longing than an historical reality.  With Roman centurions likely all over the place for the census being taken, Bethlehem surely wasn’t a quaint and quiet town that night in the history of the universe.

  We try and make quiet the historical reality that Jesus Christ, God in the flesh, came to us this night long ago in a place far, far away as the old expression goes.  We try to keep Jesus meek and mild throughout the seasons of our life because some of the things He says are jarring, to say the least.  “Turn the other cheek?”  Like, who in the history of the world wants to do that?  Isn’t revenge best served cold.  Aren’t we better off striking first and asking for forgiveness later on?  But that’s not what Jesus says. 

  Yes, the actual words of Jesus disrupt our attempts to sentimentalize this whole holiday.  “Pick up your Cross and follow me” doesn’t sound so appealing in a world in which Amazon can deliver nearly anything under the sun to you by tomorrow at 7:30 am.  What Jesus sounds like is a big disruption.

  My plans got disrupted the other day and I wasn’t terribly thankful about it.  After work, I just wanted to go home.  Despite the fact that Johnnie had told me, I went down Mount Holly-Huntersville Road.  There was a big problem with that!  Thanks to a wreck, the bridge into Gaston County was closed and traffic was being rerouted back to I-485.  Well, despite having lived in the area for over 15 years now, I got supremely lost.  There were no detour signs up yet and I went the wrong way on a traffic circle, I think.  Saw the better part of Gaston County before I figured things out, I think.  Yes, that was an unpleasant disruption.  The world is all about giving ups major disruptions to our timelines.

  But just think about how much disrupted the world was and the lives of the people around Jesus at the time.  To begin with, what about Joseph?  We greet him here in what has to be a difficult time.  For starters, just from his perspective, his betrothed is expecting a child from another father.  We get an insight into Joseph’s humble and loving nature by the way he treats Mary.  By all accounts, Joseph could’ve had her stoned for goodness sakes for the appearance of transgression.  And that’s not to say that that was the only disruption in his life.  This whole census was bound to be a colossal bummer to Joseph and to his entire family.  One thing is for certain.  This census was far from being for the benefit of the citizens.  Whenever governments want to count their people, it’s always as a means of figuring out how much tax money they’re owed.  So, to have to travel with kith and kin to Bethlehem would’ve been a real downer.  But here is Joseph, in a barn with his betrothed.  Now we get the sense that there must be troubles within his family.  After all, theoretically all of his family members would’ve been in Bethlehem as well to be registered.  Was there no one kind enough to look upon this poor couple and offer them their beds given the gravity of the situation?  There might not have been if Mary was figured to be a less-than-ideal wife to Joseph.