In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2 This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3 All went to their own towns to be registered. 4 Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5 He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7 And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.
8 In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9 Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11 to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. 12 This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” 13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, 14 “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”
Everyone comes into this season with expectations. We bring our Christmas expectations into our celebrations, our traditions, even to this service tonight. We expect our expectations to be met. We expect certain TV specials, certain gifts, certain decorations, certain family visits, and certain songs. Either because we’ve always celebrated Christmas that way or because we were promised it was going to be that way.
We expect the people around us to meet our expectations, and are really disappointed if they don’t.
Such was the case for the people in Isaiah’s time, too. They had been promised something, and were expecting it. They’d been promised a king, someone who would restore them to the greatness they hadn’t known since King David.
Isaiah tells us the promises, and the peoples’ expectations from those promises: God to come and make things right; and a Messiah who will be a mighty, powerful king who will be God’s agent to make things right. Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Rule on David’s throne with justice and authority. In a word, power. How else can he accomplish such incredible changes in a world where God’s people were currently being held in captivity, robbed of their homes, their religion, their identity in Babylon.
Through the centuries, these people held on to these promise; and so, yes, they had expectations. God has promised a Messiah. They expected this Messiah to be powerful enough to restore them .
We all come here with expectations—about Christmas, yes, but we expect things from God too. Maybe we expect God to cure someone we love from cancer; to find us a job; to reward us for trying to be faithful. Or maybe we’ve become jaded, cynical, or even superficial in our expectations. We expect God to simply leave us alone. Like all people in all times and places, we have expectations of God. So think for a minute, what do you expect from God? . . .
So with their high expectations, what do you think the response was when this promised Messiah, this powerful king, this one whose very presence would turn the whole world around, came in the way described in Luke? No palace with military honors. No inauguration. Not even in the major city, Jerusalem or to the people of power. But instead, born in a town that is known for being nothing. His crib was the cattle feed trough. His parents didn’t even have enough influence to get a bed in the inn.
What do you suppose the response was from those who were waiting for him to come? Disbelief? Disappointment? Skepticism? Sure, all that and more. No one came to celebrate. No one of any importance even heard, much less believed the angels’ message that God’s Messiah had come.
When God doesn’t meet your expectations, it’s not exactly a joyous experience. You feel let down, even betrayed. I thought I knew what you were about, God. I thought you were powerful and miraculous. I thought you were a force for good. I thought you helped those who love you and believe in you. I thought . . . I expected . . .
But if the best you can do, God, is a lousy manger in a nowhere little village with inconsequential parents, then I guess you aren’t the God I thought. I’ll look elsewhere for my expected Messiah. I’ll look elsewhere for my expected God. I’ll look elsewhere to have my expectations met.
You see, God, I expect you to be fixing my life, improving my life, getting me out of the smelly places in my life, not meeting me in the middle of them. I don’t want to admit my life isn’t perfect, that I’m not perfect, that I’m broken and feel like I’m faking it sometimes. I don’t want to acknowledge that my life can resemble a stable—a smelly, poor, incompetent stable. I want you to put me in a palace, and then meet me there. Fix everything according to my expectations, then meet me there. That’s what I expect. . .
Maybe the problem isn’t what God does or how God comes. Maybe it’s that we expect God to meet our expectations.
Those who were around when Jesus was born clung to their expectations instead of the reality of God present with them. A Messiah had come, but they missed it because God didn’t do it the way they expected. Their hope was in their midst, but no one welcomed the God of hope because they were looking for the god of their own expectations? God came to them anyway. The angels were singing it to the shepherds, of all people. Not the high and mighty, but the disregarded and marginalized.
Just as God comes among us anyway—not just in palaces when things in our life are right and good.
God comes anyway—even if our lives are smelly and disappointing. Even if, in a world of royalty, we feel like nothing more than shepherds . But the angels are singing to us then.
God comes anyway–meeting us wherever we are, even if that’s in a place we don’t expect. Listen, the angels are singing.
God comes anyway—whether we want God there or not, whether we expect God there or not, whether we see God there or not. Hear it? The angels are singing.
God comes anyway—even to a stable, even to a manger, even to shepherds. Even to you. There it is. The angels are singing.
When you leave here tonight, know that God has come, is with you—your expectations have nothing to do with it. That’s the good news of this night.
May God, present in a manger, present with shepherds, present in the smell a stable, be with you—not as you expect, but as you need. With the coming of Christ into your life, you are loved, and the angels are singing. Amen.