Bedlam Or Bethlehem?
Sermon
Sermons On The Second Readings
For Sundays In Advent, Christmas, And Epiphany
I wonder if you have ever realized how the word "bedlam" entered our language? Here's how it came about. St. Mary of Bethlehem was founded as a hospital in England in 1247. Two centuries later it was restructured as an institution for the hopelessly insane. The noise and confusion of the hospital became widely known throughout the country. The cockney accent, over the years, contracted Bethlehem into Bed'lam. So "bedlam," which means "a place, scene, or state of uproar or confusion" is simply a contracted form of the peaceful word "Bethlehem," which Phillips Brooks described in his beloved carol, "O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie."
If there were no more here than the corruption of a word, we would be unconcerned. In many ways we do make bedlam out of Bethlehem. The Christmas season itself has become, not a time of quiet thought and meditation and spiritual joy, but one of worldly greed and noise. The frantic pushing through malls in last minute Christmas gift buying, the carousing on Christmas Eve, the inordinate eating and drinking during the season -- these are hardly in harmony with the message of Christmas. Have we not, too often, made bedlam out of Bethlehem? Perhaps it is time that we include ourselves in the little child's recitation of the Lord's Prayer when she said innocently, "Forgive us our Christmases, as we forgive those who have Christmased against us."
But we are not here today to bemoan the mistakes of the past. This Christmas offers us a clean slate, a renewed offer for a new beginning, a challenging opportunity to refocus our attention on the reason for the season, an opportunity to transform bedlam into Bethlehem! Our scripture lesson offers us the ABC's of such a renewal; let's think about them for a few moments.
First, the A. We remove bedlam from Bethlehem when we remember what appeared at the first Christmas event. Our text tells us, "For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all." "Grace" is well defined as "love imparting itself, and producing its own image and likeness." It is important to recognize that in this context grace is serving a twofold function. It not only expresses a quality of mercy in God's dealing with us, but it also identifies the Person through whom this mercy comes to us. Using the familiar figure of speech, personification, it indicates that the Christ of Christmas is the one who personifies God's grace and who also accomplishes what that grace intends to provide, which is "salvation for all." And the word "salvation" is also important to consider. It most certainly implies salvation from sin and its misery; verse 14 makes that clear, "Who gave himself for us that he might redeem us from all iniquity."
Calvary's cross is the ever-present reality, even at the manger scene! But salvation also implies "wholeness," a wholeness that includes our relationship with others as well as our affinity with God through Christ, our Lord. This emphasis is often either forgotten or unnoticed.
A deeply suggestive touch has been given to the Christmas portrayal by a certain artist. He shows the shepherds on the hillside looking up into the heavens from which they hear the angelic chorus singing, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." But at the shepherds' feet is one of their dogs. The dog is alert, poised, but he is not looking into the heavens with the shepherds. His head is turned in another direction. The dog is aware that something unusual is happening, but he does not know what it is. He is missing the message heard by his masters, the shepherds. In depicting the difference between the dog and the shepherds, the artist was true to the Gospels' portrayals of the original Christmas story, for in them there are profound differences of observation! The Wise Men saw a star which others did not notice, not even the shepherds. The shepherds heard a song to which the Wise Men were deaf. And neither the star nor the song disturbed the dining and slumber of the guests at the Inn. Mary, the mother, pondered thoughts too deep for even the Wise Men and the shepherds to comprehend. What varying degrees of meaning Bethlehem held for those first beholders! And then there was the dog. He, too, went along with the shepherds. He looked on in a prosaic way. He was in Bethlehem, but the meaning of Bethlehem was not in him. Today's text urges us to behold the reason for the season, the reason behind the mere tapestry of Christmas. He, the Lord of heaven, appeared to provide salvation and wholeness for all who have eyes to see. Surely there is no bedlam in this understanding of Bethlehem.
We move on to the second of our ABC's. We remove bedlam from Bethlehem when we perceive the behavior the Christmas message urges upon us. Verse 12 makes it clear, "Training us to renounce impiety and worldly passions, and in this present age live lives that are self-controlled, upright, and godly." Dear Christian friend, welcome to the University of Advent Behavior! Each of us matriculated in this august institution on the day of our baptism into Christ. The courses continue throughout life -- and perhaps beyond! But what a blessed learning experience lies before us. The training concerns itself with all the important areas of life: our relation to ourselves, to others, and to God. Let's consider them.
"Live a life that is self-controlled." So important, yet so difficult at times. I've often turned to Proverbs 16:32 when reflecting on the matter of self-control. It reads, "Better is he who controls his own spirit, than he who takes a city." One's mind recalls, sadly, the experience of Alexander the Great, who, at the age of 29 had conquered the entire known world. Then, it is said, he wept because there were no more worlds to conquer. Four years later he was dead, the victim of fever brought on by intemperate living. He had conquered the world but had never conquered Alexander! An old song, "I'm sitting on top of the world," has been sung by many people who were not "on top of the world." The world was on top of them. A New York newspaper recorded the fact that on New Year's Eve a man was taken to a police station, drunk and disorderly, singing this song at the top of his voice. It was not very convincing. We are really on top of the world when we have mastered the art of self-control, when we are on top of those forces which might draw us down: our appetites, our greed, our hatreds, our anxieties, our fears. It is Christ whose power and love make us masters of ourselves -- and our circumstances. In reality it is Christ- control not self-control, but more of that later.
Then, there is our relation to others, "Live a life that is upright." To be upright in all our relationships is to be honorable -- to be sincere -- to be devoid of sham. "Sham," according to Webster, is "an imitation that is meant to deceive." It is like two thin layers of veneer over inexpensive wood to make a table or a wall appear better than it is. Sham is harmless when it is confined to furniture, but when it appears in people it is deadly. Appearance may be deceptive for a time, but as Nathaniel Hawthorne noted in the Scarlet Letter, "No man, for a considerable period, can wear one face to himself, and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be true." Sooner or later the mask slips and the inner reality shows through.
Children are remarkably discerning, seeing beneath the surface of our appearance. One lad, sitting on his father's knee remarked, "Daddy, when I'm a man I want to be just like you." Then suddenly realizing his father was not exactly handsome, the youngster added with childish candor. "Inside, Daddy, not outside." The father smiled knowingly, he had received a sublime compliment. The Christ of Christmas sees through the outside to the inside of us and our shams fall away. He wants us to express uprightness in all our relationships, the outward and the inward person as one.
The third aspect of our Advent behavior involves our relationship with God, "Live a life that is godly." Me, godly? It sounds as though we are being asked for the impossible. But is it really so far beyond the reach of possibility, for you, for me? Surely we are not to view godliness as Don Quixote's impossible dream! Recall Browning's advice: "Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp. Or what's a heaven for?"
Perhaps it will be helpful to view the word "godly" as meaning "Godliness" or "Christ-likeness." Here we can see the Christ of Christmas giving himself to us in such a way as to produce a measure of his likeness in our lives which so often exhibit quite different qualities, qualities for which we plead forgiveness every day. Christ-likeness -- can you think of a greater pursuit for this Christmas season or any season, for that matter?
Recall Nathaniel Hawthorne's wonderful short story, "The Great Stone Face." In it the young Ernest is taken by his mother to the edge of their New England village where she points to the face of a man nature has chiseled into the mountainside some distance away. When Ernest begins to see the likeness, his mother tells him the old, old legend that some day a native son of the valley will return home to lead his village to the greatest happiness it has ever known. This person's face will be the very image of the Great Stone Face. Ernest grows from childhood into boyhood, boyhood into manhood, manhood into old age, breathlessly awaiting the coming of his hero. Mr. Gather -- Copper -- and -- Scatter -- Gold comes first, then General Blood -- and -- Thunder, the epaulettes of his rank dazzling on his shoulders; then Old Stony Phiz, the grizzled statesman, and finally the gentle poet. But always there is disappointment, until one day, late in his life, the villagers look about them, and lo and behold, they make a startling discovery! It is Ernest himself who looks like the Great Stone Face! He had lived so long in the presence of his ideal that he had at last become like his ideal. In similar fashion, whoever thinks long enough in terms of Christ, acts long enough in terms of Christ, lives long enough in terms of Christ will in the end become like Christ. Our text again, "Live lives that are self-controlled, upright and godly -- or Christ-like." Noble behavior attributes, indeed. May the Divine Artist paint them boldly on the canvass of your life and mine.
In the third, and final, of our ABC's we remove bedlam from Bethlehem when we realize who is coming one day to usher in the final act in the Eternal Christmas Pageant. Verse 13 tells us, "While we wait for the blessed hope and the manifestation of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ." Be certain of this, dear Christian friend, the Christ of Christmas who came once as a babe to be our deliverer will one day come as King of kings and Lord of lords. The future belongs to him!
E. Stanley Jones loved to tell of his visit to the Mosque of Saint Sophia in Constantinople. The Mosque is a transformed Christian church. It was one of the most beautiful churches in the world. All the Christian inscriptions and symbols had been painted out and Moslem inscriptions and symbols put in their places. As Jones and his wife stood under the great dome, they could see that the figure of the ascending Christ with outstretched hands in blessing, which had been painted out, was coming back through the wearing off of the covering paint. Jones turned to his wife and said: "He is coming back. You cannot blot him out. Through the secretion and daubs of the centuries he is coming back again. He shall yet reign. The future belongs to him." It does, never forget it!
Now as we conclude another Advent journey, we see that Bethlehem can never become bedlam when we remember the grace of God that appeared on that sacred day, the behavior that event urges upon us, and the triumphant final coming of the King of kings and Lord of lords. "Even so, come Lord Jesus!" Amen.
If there were no more here than the corruption of a word, we would be unconcerned. In many ways we do make bedlam out of Bethlehem. The Christmas season itself has become, not a time of quiet thought and meditation and spiritual joy, but one of worldly greed and noise. The frantic pushing through malls in last minute Christmas gift buying, the carousing on Christmas Eve, the inordinate eating and drinking during the season -- these are hardly in harmony with the message of Christmas. Have we not, too often, made bedlam out of Bethlehem? Perhaps it is time that we include ourselves in the little child's recitation of the Lord's Prayer when she said innocently, "Forgive us our Christmases, as we forgive those who have Christmased against us."
But we are not here today to bemoan the mistakes of the past. This Christmas offers us a clean slate, a renewed offer for a new beginning, a challenging opportunity to refocus our attention on the reason for the season, an opportunity to transform bedlam into Bethlehem! Our scripture lesson offers us the ABC's of such a renewal; let's think about them for a few moments.
First, the A. We remove bedlam from Bethlehem when we remember what appeared at the first Christmas event. Our text tells us, "For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all." "Grace" is well defined as "love imparting itself, and producing its own image and likeness." It is important to recognize that in this context grace is serving a twofold function. It not only expresses a quality of mercy in God's dealing with us, but it also identifies the Person through whom this mercy comes to us. Using the familiar figure of speech, personification, it indicates that the Christ of Christmas is the one who personifies God's grace and who also accomplishes what that grace intends to provide, which is "salvation for all." And the word "salvation" is also important to consider. It most certainly implies salvation from sin and its misery; verse 14 makes that clear, "Who gave himself for us that he might redeem us from all iniquity."
Calvary's cross is the ever-present reality, even at the manger scene! But salvation also implies "wholeness," a wholeness that includes our relationship with others as well as our affinity with God through Christ, our Lord. This emphasis is often either forgotten or unnoticed.
A deeply suggestive touch has been given to the Christmas portrayal by a certain artist. He shows the shepherds on the hillside looking up into the heavens from which they hear the angelic chorus singing, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." But at the shepherds' feet is one of their dogs. The dog is alert, poised, but he is not looking into the heavens with the shepherds. His head is turned in another direction. The dog is aware that something unusual is happening, but he does not know what it is. He is missing the message heard by his masters, the shepherds. In depicting the difference between the dog and the shepherds, the artist was true to the Gospels' portrayals of the original Christmas story, for in them there are profound differences of observation! The Wise Men saw a star which others did not notice, not even the shepherds. The shepherds heard a song to which the Wise Men were deaf. And neither the star nor the song disturbed the dining and slumber of the guests at the Inn. Mary, the mother, pondered thoughts too deep for even the Wise Men and the shepherds to comprehend. What varying degrees of meaning Bethlehem held for those first beholders! And then there was the dog. He, too, went along with the shepherds. He looked on in a prosaic way. He was in Bethlehem, but the meaning of Bethlehem was not in him. Today's text urges us to behold the reason for the season, the reason behind the mere tapestry of Christmas. He, the Lord of heaven, appeared to provide salvation and wholeness for all who have eyes to see. Surely there is no bedlam in this understanding of Bethlehem.
We move on to the second of our ABC's. We remove bedlam from Bethlehem when we perceive the behavior the Christmas message urges upon us. Verse 12 makes it clear, "Training us to renounce impiety and worldly passions, and in this present age live lives that are self-controlled, upright, and godly." Dear Christian friend, welcome to the University of Advent Behavior! Each of us matriculated in this august institution on the day of our baptism into Christ. The courses continue throughout life -- and perhaps beyond! But what a blessed learning experience lies before us. The training concerns itself with all the important areas of life: our relation to ourselves, to others, and to God. Let's consider them.
"Live a life that is self-controlled." So important, yet so difficult at times. I've often turned to Proverbs 16:32 when reflecting on the matter of self-control. It reads, "Better is he who controls his own spirit, than he who takes a city." One's mind recalls, sadly, the experience of Alexander the Great, who, at the age of 29 had conquered the entire known world. Then, it is said, he wept because there were no more worlds to conquer. Four years later he was dead, the victim of fever brought on by intemperate living. He had conquered the world but had never conquered Alexander! An old song, "I'm sitting on top of the world," has been sung by many people who were not "on top of the world." The world was on top of them. A New York newspaper recorded the fact that on New Year's Eve a man was taken to a police station, drunk and disorderly, singing this song at the top of his voice. It was not very convincing. We are really on top of the world when we have mastered the art of self-control, when we are on top of those forces which might draw us down: our appetites, our greed, our hatreds, our anxieties, our fears. It is Christ whose power and love make us masters of ourselves -- and our circumstances. In reality it is Christ- control not self-control, but more of that later.
Then, there is our relation to others, "Live a life that is upright." To be upright in all our relationships is to be honorable -- to be sincere -- to be devoid of sham. "Sham," according to Webster, is "an imitation that is meant to deceive." It is like two thin layers of veneer over inexpensive wood to make a table or a wall appear better than it is. Sham is harmless when it is confined to furniture, but when it appears in people it is deadly. Appearance may be deceptive for a time, but as Nathaniel Hawthorne noted in the Scarlet Letter, "No man, for a considerable period, can wear one face to himself, and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be true." Sooner or later the mask slips and the inner reality shows through.
Children are remarkably discerning, seeing beneath the surface of our appearance. One lad, sitting on his father's knee remarked, "Daddy, when I'm a man I want to be just like you." Then suddenly realizing his father was not exactly handsome, the youngster added with childish candor. "Inside, Daddy, not outside." The father smiled knowingly, he had received a sublime compliment. The Christ of Christmas sees through the outside to the inside of us and our shams fall away. He wants us to express uprightness in all our relationships, the outward and the inward person as one.
The third aspect of our Advent behavior involves our relationship with God, "Live a life that is godly." Me, godly? It sounds as though we are being asked for the impossible. But is it really so far beyond the reach of possibility, for you, for me? Surely we are not to view godliness as Don Quixote's impossible dream! Recall Browning's advice: "Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp. Or what's a heaven for?"
Perhaps it will be helpful to view the word "godly" as meaning "Godliness" or "Christ-likeness." Here we can see the Christ of Christmas giving himself to us in such a way as to produce a measure of his likeness in our lives which so often exhibit quite different qualities, qualities for which we plead forgiveness every day. Christ-likeness -- can you think of a greater pursuit for this Christmas season or any season, for that matter?
Recall Nathaniel Hawthorne's wonderful short story, "The Great Stone Face." In it the young Ernest is taken by his mother to the edge of their New England village where she points to the face of a man nature has chiseled into the mountainside some distance away. When Ernest begins to see the likeness, his mother tells him the old, old legend that some day a native son of the valley will return home to lead his village to the greatest happiness it has ever known. This person's face will be the very image of the Great Stone Face. Ernest grows from childhood into boyhood, boyhood into manhood, manhood into old age, breathlessly awaiting the coming of his hero. Mr. Gather -- Copper -- and -- Scatter -- Gold comes first, then General Blood -- and -- Thunder, the epaulettes of his rank dazzling on his shoulders; then Old Stony Phiz, the grizzled statesman, and finally the gentle poet. But always there is disappointment, until one day, late in his life, the villagers look about them, and lo and behold, they make a startling discovery! It is Ernest himself who looks like the Great Stone Face! He had lived so long in the presence of his ideal that he had at last become like his ideal. In similar fashion, whoever thinks long enough in terms of Christ, acts long enough in terms of Christ, lives long enough in terms of Christ will in the end become like Christ. Our text again, "Live lives that are self-controlled, upright and godly -- or Christ-like." Noble behavior attributes, indeed. May the Divine Artist paint them boldly on the canvass of your life and mine.
In the third, and final, of our ABC's we remove bedlam from Bethlehem when we realize who is coming one day to usher in the final act in the Eternal Christmas Pageant. Verse 13 tells us, "While we wait for the blessed hope and the manifestation of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ." Be certain of this, dear Christian friend, the Christ of Christmas who came once as a babe to be our deliverer will one day come as King of kings and Lord of lords. The future belongs to him!
E. Stanley Jones loved to tell of his visit to the Mosque of Saint Sophia in Constantinople. The Mosque is a transformed Christian church. It was one of the most beautiful churches in the world. All the Christian inscriptions and symbols had been painted out and Moslem inscriptions and symbols put in their places. As Jones and his wife stood under the great dome, they could see that the figure of the ascending Christ with outstretched hands in blessing, which had been painted out, was coming back through the wearing off of the covering paint. Jones turned to his wife and said: "He is coming back. You cannot blot him out. Through the secretion and daubs of the centuries he is coming back again. He shall yet reign. The future belongs to him." It does, never forget it!
Now as we conclude another Advent journey, we see that Bethlehem can never become bedlam when we remember the grace of God that appeared on that sacred day, the behavior that event urges upon us, and the triumphant final coming of the King of kings and Lord of lords. "Even so, come Lord Jesus!" Amen.
