Yes, Virginia, There Is A Savior!
Sermon
Don't Forget The Child
Sermons For Advent And Christmas
Object:
Over 100 years ago now, in 1897, there was an exchange of letters which has become a part of American folklore. It started when eight-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon of New York City wrote this letter to the editor of The New York Sun.
"Dear Editor," wrote Virginia, "I am eight years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, 'If you see it in The Sun, it's so.' Please tell me the truth. Is there a Santa Claus?"
Sun Editor Frank Church (don't you love that name, "Frank Church"?) published this famous response. I'll read it in part: " ... Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love, and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give your life its highest beauty and joy." Editor Frank Church continued, "Alas! How dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith, then, no poetry, no romance to make more tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished ... No Santa Claus? Thank God he lives and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood."
Frank Church is right! There is a Santa Claus! Of course, all that business about a bearded, jolly fat man in a red suit with eight tiny reindeer isn't literally true! (And, I hope, by revealing that, I haven't spoiled anyone's Christmas!) But you could say that there is evidence of a certain "Santa Claus" spirit.
Consider these headlines from The Register, our local weekly paper: "Santa Arrives at [Salvation] Army Bearing Gifts for Needy: Tech Students Donate Clothing"; "Churches Seek Donations for the Needy"; "Army to Help Family with No Tree"; "Scargo Students Provide Canned Goods for Needy"; and so on. This time of year especially, our hearts are open for caring, and our hands are open for sharing. There is a Santa!
But let's remember again who the original Saint Nicholas was. He was a real person who lived in Asia Minor (some say Turkey) around the year 300 A.D. His parents were wealthy. Nicholas himself was a person of great faith, who wanted to live in imitation of Christ. So Nicholas spent a fair amount of his family fortune feeding the needy. Seeking to draw no attention to himself, Nicholas did his gift-giving at night, slipping gold coins under the doors of the poorest homes. He eventually became a monk and later a bishop, the youngest bishop in the history of the early Church. Like many other early Christians, Nicholas was imprisoned and tortured for his beliefs. Saint Nicholas represents the spirit of unselfish giving that grows not out of a fuzzy sentimentality, but out of gratitude for our Salvation in Jesus Christ.
There is a Santa because there is a Savior. The name "Jesus" actually means "to save." And we need to be saved. We all need to be saved because all of us get "stuck" in sin.
In his book, Finding Hope When God Seems Silent, Ben Patterson provides a dramatic illustration of how a person's sin can lead to a kind of "stuckness." (Reported by Gordon MacDonald in "Repentance," Preaching Today, tape no. 121.) Patterson writes about a climbing trip he took with three companions to Mount Lyell, the highest peak in Yosemite National Park. Two of the climbers were experienced. Patterson and one other man were not. Patterson explains the situation which developed like this: "The climb to the top and back was to take the better part of a day due, in large part, to the difficulty of the glacier that one must cross to get to the top ... As the hours passed, and we trudged up the glacier, the two [experienced climbers] opened up a wide gap between me and my less-experienced companion. Being competitive by nature, I began to look for short cuts I might be able to take to beat them to the top. I thought I saw one to the right of an outcropping of rock -- so I went up, deaf to the protests of my companions."
He continues, "Thirty minutes later I was trapped in a cul-de-sac of rock atop the Lysell Glacier, looking down several hundred feet of a sheer drop of ice, pitched at a 45-degree angle ... I was only ten feet from the safety of a rock. But one little slip and I wouldn't stop sliding until I landed in the valley floor ... I was stuck and I was scared."
Every one of us has found ourselves in situations like that: maybe not literally trapped on the side of a glacier, but figuratively "stuck," scared, trapped because of our own stupidity and sin, desperately seeking someone to rescue us from the trouble and pain we have created for ourselves.
No wonder there is such a mournful quality to our Advent hymns! "O come, O come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel," ("We feel like captives, and we're awaiting Someone to come to our rescue!"); "Watchman, tell us of the night" ("We're struggling in the darkness. Is there hope?"). During Advent especially we concentrate on the limitations of our human condition, on our brokenness and creation's brokenness, on our weakness, on our "stuckness," on how much we need Someone who will come to our help.
Back to Bob Patterson, hanging by a thread on that cliff. He writes, "It took an hour for my experienced climbing friends to find me. Standing on the rock I wanted to reach, one of them leaned out and used an ice ax to chip two little footsteps in the glacier. Then he gave me the following instructions: 'Ben, you must step out from where you are and put your foot where the first foothold is. Without a moment's hesitation swing your other foot across and land it in the next step. [Then] ... reach out and I will take your hand, and I will pull you to safety ..."
The more experienced climber continued, "But listen carefully: as you step across, don't lean into the mountain! If anything, lean out a bit. Otherwise, your feet could fly out from under you and you will start sliding down."
His friend was asking Patterson, stuck on a cliff, to let go for just an instant and to trust that his friend could and would save him. Save him from a plunge down the glacier to certain death. His friend was asking him to trust him so completely that Patterson would even lean back away from the seeming safety and security of the mountain for a just moment so his friend could reach down and grab him and pull him up.
Patterson writes: "I looked at [my friend] real hard ... for a moment, based solely on what I believed to be true about the good will and good sense of my friend, I decided ... to [step out and lean out and trust completely in him]. It took less than two seconds to find out if my faith was well founded. It was." Patterson was saved.
So also are we saved when we are stuck in sin, if we recognize our stuckness, and put our trust in the One who is above us and reaching down to save us. That's Jesus. And when we really realize that we have been saved from sin, from that terrible plunge to disaster; in gratitude, in relief, we just might be moved to extend a hand to someone else. That's what the "Christmas Spirit" is all about: one grateful, saved sinner reaching out to other people, giving because he has already received, as Saint Nicholas gave so willingly and so generously long ago. We give at Christmas because we recognize the greater gift that God has given us.
I discovered something interesting about Frank Church's response to little Virginia. Suppose we were to substitute the name of Santa Claus for the name of Jesus. Consider how it reads:
Yes, Virginia, there is a Savior. He exists as certainly as love and devotion exist ... Alas! How dreary would be the world if there were no Jesus! ... There would be no childlike faith then ... to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished ... No Jesus Christ? Thank God he lives and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, Jesus will continue to make glad [our] hearts.
A world without a Savior is dreary and dangerous. In a world without a Savior, all of us will eventually get stuck. Without a Savior to rescue us, all of us eventually will fall.
But with a Savior, there is hope.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa, a spirit of caring and sharing especially evident around Christmas. But there is a Santa because there is a Savior, who provides those who believe in him with a reason to give and live. My hope for all of us is that we can recognize our stuckness and reach up to the one who is reaching down to help us. Then, in gratitude and thanksgiving, that we might reach out a hand of help to others, not just in the Christmas season but for as long as we live.
"Dear Editor," wrote Virginia, "I am eight years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, 'If you see it in The Sun, it's so.' Please tell me the truth. Is there a Santa Claus?"
Sun Editor Frank Church (don't you love that name, "Frank Church"?) published this famous response. I'll read it in part: " ... Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love, and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give your life its highest beauty and joy." Editor Frank Church continued, "Alas! How dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith, then, no poetry, no romance to make more tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished ... No Santa Claus? Thank God he lives and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood."
Frank Church is right! There is a Santa Claus! Of course, all that business about a bearded, jolly fat man in a red suit with eight tiny reindeer isn't literally true! (And, I hope, by revealing that, I haven't spoiled anyone's Christmas!) But you could say that there is evidence of a certain "Santa Claus" spirit.
Consider these headlines from The Register, our local weekly paper: "Santa Arrives at [Salvation] Army Bearing Gifts for Needy: Tech Students Donate Clothing"; "Churches Seek Donations for the Needy"; "Army to Help Family with No Tree"; "Scargo Students Provide Canned Goods for Needy"; and so on. This time of year especially, our hearts are open for caring, and our hands are open for sharing. There is a Santa!
But let's remember again who the original Saint Nicholas was. He was a real person who lived in Asia Minor (some say Turkey) around the year 300 A.D. His parents were wealthy. Nicholas himself was a person of great faith, who wanted to live in imitation of Christ. So Nicholas spent a fair amount of his family fortune feeding the needy. Seeking to draw no attention to himself, Nicholas did his gift-giving at night, slipping gold coins under the doors of the poorest homes. He eventually became a monk and later a bishop, the youngest bishop in the history of the early Church. Like many other early Christians, Nicholas was imprisoned and tortured for his beliefs. Saint Nicholas represents the spirit of unselfish giving that grows not out of a fuzzy sentimentality, but out of gratitude for our Salvation in Jesus Christ.
There is a Santa because there is a Savior. The name "Jesus" actually means "to save." And we need to be saved. We all need to be saved because all of us get "stuck" in sin.
In his book, Finding Hope When God Seems Silent, Ben Patterson provides a dramatic illustration of how a person's sin can lead to a kind of "stuckness." (Reported by Gordon MacDonald in "Repentance," Preaching Today, tape no. 121.) Patterson writes about a climbing trip he took with three companions to Mount Lyell, the highest peak in Yosemite National Park. Two of the climbers were experienced. Patterson and one other man were not. Patterson explains the situation which developed like this: "The climb to the top and back was to take the better part of a day due, in large part, to the difficulty of the glacier that one must cross to get to the top ... As the hours passed, and we trudged up the glacier, the two [experienced climbers] opened up a wide gap between me and my less-experienced companion. Being competitive by nature, I began to look for short cuts I might be able to take to beat them to the top. I thought I saw one to the right of an outcropping of rock -- so I went up, deaf to the protests of my companions."
He continues, "Thirty minutes later I was trapped in a cul-de-sac of rock atop the Lysell Glacier, looking down several hundred feet of a sheer drop of ice, pitched at a 45-degree angle ... I was only ten feet from the safety of a rock. But one little slip and I wouldn't stop sliding until I landed in the valley floor ... I was stuck and I was scared."
Every one of us has found ourselves in situations like that: maybe not literally trapped on the side of a glacier, but figuratively "stuck," scared, trapped because of our own stupidity and sin, desperately seeking someone to rescue us from the trouble and pain we have created for ourselves.
No wonder there is such a mournful quality to our Advent hymns! "O come, O come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel," ("We feel like captives, and we're awaiting Someone to come to our rescue!"); "Watchman, tell us of the night" ("We're struggling in the darkness. Is there hope?"). During Advent especially we concentrate on the limitations of our human condition, on our brokenness and creation's brokenness, on our weakness, on our "stuckness," on how much we need Someone who will come to our help.
Back to Bob Patterson, hanging by a thread on that cliff. He writes, "It took an hour for my experienced climbing friends to find me. Standing on the rock I wanted to reach, one of them leaned out and used an ice ax to chip two little footsteps in the glacier. Then he gave me the following instructions: 'Ben, you must step out from where you are and put your foot where the first foothold is. Without a moment's hesitation swing your other foot across and land it in the next step. [Then] ... reach out and I will take your hand, and I will pull you to safety ..."
The more experienced climber continued, "But listen carefully: as you step across, don't lean into the mountain! If anything, lean out a bit. Otherwise, your feet could fly out from under you and you will start sliding down."
His friend was asking Patterson, stuck on a cliff, to let go for just an instant and to trust that his friend could and would save him. Save him from a plunge down the glacier to certain death. His friend was asking him to trust him so completely that Patterson would even lean back away from the seeming safety and security of the mountain for a just moment so his friend could reach down and grab him and pull him up.
Patterson writes: "I looked at [my friend] real hard ... for a moment, based solely on what I believed to be true about the good will and good sense of my friend, I decided ... to [step out and lean out and trust completely in him]. It took less than two seconds to find out if my faith was well founded. It was." Patterson was saved.
So also are we saved when we are stuck in sin, if we recognize our stuckness, and put our trust in the One who is above us and reaching down to save us. That's Jesus. And when we really realize that we have been saved from sin, from that terrible plunge to disaster; in gratitude, in relief, we just might be moved to extend a hand to someone else. That's what the "Christmas Spirit" is all about: one grateful, saved sinner reaching out to other people, giving because he has already received, as Saint Nicholas gave so willingly and so generously long ago. We give at Christmas because we recognize the greater gift that God has given us.
I discovered something interesting about Frank Church's response to little Virginia. Suppose we were to substitute the name of Santa Claus for the name of Jesus. Consider how it reads:
Yes, Virginia, there is a Savior. He exists as certainly as love and devotion exist ... Alas! How dreary would be the world if there were no Jesus! ... There would be no childlike faith then ... to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished ... No Jesus Christ? Thank God he lives and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, Jesus will continue to make glad [our] hearts.
A world without a Savior is dreary and dangerous. In a world without a Savior, all of us will eventually get stuck. Without a Savior to rescue us, all of us eventually will fall.
But with a Savior, there is hope.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa, a spirit of caring and sharing especially evident around Christmas. But there is a Santa because there is a Savior, who provides those who believe in him with a reason to give and live. My hope for all of us is that we can recognize our stuckness and reach up to the one who is reaching down to help us. Then, in gratitude and thanksgiving, that we might reach out a hand of help to others, not just in the Christmas season but for as long as we live.
