Peace Came at Bethlehem

Text: Luke 19:28-40

Grace, mercy, and peace be to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

          Whenever I read the account of the Triumphal Entry on the First Sunday in Advent, I feel like we’re in the wrong place at the wrong time. We’re expecting on this day to be looking forward toward the cradle in Bethlehem, and yet, we find ourselves looking toward the cross of Calvary. We want to be hearing about the donkey Mary rode to the birthplace of Jesus and we find ourselves instead hearing about the donkey Jesus rode toward the place of His death. It’s ok though, because the cradle we look toward is only important because of the cross we rejoice in.

I know it’s only December 1^st, but we already see Christmas lights around town. I attended a Christmas parade yesterday. Santa Claus appeared at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. The next three weeks will be filled with Christmas parties and activities. We’ve even gotten a pretty good start already on the purchasing of Christmas gifts.

We all know what we’re marching toward and yet the traditional Gospel for the First Sunday in Advent doesn’t point us toward that joyous celebration of Jesus’ birth, but rather we have the Palm Sunday account—Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. It seems out of place. In Advent, we should be moving toward a celebration of our Lord’s birth in Bethlehem, and instead we hear a story about our Lord moving toward his death in Jerusalem. We want the Christmas story and instead we’re getting the lead up to Good Friday.

But there’s something we can learn—something that, like Mary, we can take with us and ponder in our hearts. Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey. For this reason, our Lord came from heaven. For this reason, the Son of God became the Son of Mary. The story that we hear today is the story that gives Christmas its meaning and lasting value.

PEACE CAME INTO THE WORLD AT BETHLEHEM

AND RODE INTO JERUSALEM SO THAT WE WOULD KNOW THE TRUE PEACE WON FOR

US ON THE CROSS.

Christmas does seem, for so many, to be a holiday about the things of this world. I think we can admit that the world has lost its bearings when it comes to the celebration of this holiday. Go to most homes on Christmas morning and watch children unwrap present after present and it’s not hard to see that in many of these homes something just doesn’t seem right. Something is missing. Or more precisely, someone is missing. For all the gifts and celebration, there’s really nothing to it. There’s no Christ and no Mass. No mention of our Lord’s birth and no celebration of the Savior entering into the world to redeem a lost and lonely people. For all the holiday spirit and worldly joy, there’s something about it that seems empty.

Many people fight for the right to say “Merry Christmas,” but then rarely talk about why Christmas is merry. And when there’s an absence of Christ it leaves a big hole, an emptiness that needs to be filled. Then that void gets filled with manmade traditions, songs, and stories. Rather than tell the story of Christ, the world tells countless other stories. Not that they’re all bad, but A Christmas Carol, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Frosty the Snowman, It’s a Wonderful Life, A Miracle on 34th Street, and the ten thousand Hallmark movies that will run from now until Christmas aren’t actually the reason for the season. And the Christmas music we’ll hear for the next few weeks, as festive as it all is, doesn’t even compare to the messages of Silent Night and Joy to the World.

But if we’re honest, even for us Christians, Christmas often falls flat. Maybe it’s because the angels raise our expectations so high with their promise of “Peace on the earth, good will to men.” Looking around, I don’t see much peace on earth, nor, for that matter, good will to men. We’re always looking for it and believe that maybe it’s just around the corner, but for all our efforts, peace never really seems to materialize. And yet, we still pray for peace. And for two thousand years, we’ve had nothing but “wars and rumors of wars.” Again and again, the angels said, “Don’t be afraid.” Yet we live in an age of anxiety; constant fear lurking just below the surface. Some of us have relatives and friends living and serving in dangerous places across the world. Some fret over global warming; others worry that the economy isn’t stable. Newly revived talk about nuclear weapons abounds. And those who think about these things warn that the human race should be planning for life on another planet in preparation for the time when our own planet will become uninhabitable. Peace on earth doesn’t really seem to be in our future.

And so, at Christmas, when peace on earth seems unattainable on a large, global scale, we attempt it on a smaller scale, at home with family and friends. Many folks, even Christian folks, will say that Christmas at its heart is about friends and family. Ask any number of people what they want for Christmas and a good number of them will say “A happy family.” And this side of heaven, the family is about the best gift there is. But families, too, can be turned into idols. In fact, many Christians don’t even go to church on Christmas because they want to be with their families.

And even at home, there’s not always peace. Christmas is great, but the bills come January aren’t so wonderful. Add in anxieties over work issues, your children’s struggles at school, ailing parents, a chronic medical condition, a dispute with the in-laws, the loss of a loved one, or a broken relationship, and there’s a lot of strife and sadness. Some of this sadness is because we live in a fallen world, and truth be told, some of this sadness is of our own making—bad choices we’ve made, people we’ve hurt, relationships we’ve damaged. Our families are a mess, and more often than not, we’re part of the problem.

Where, then, is peace to be found? Nowhere else than in the Christ Child. Not in some Fontanini or Precious Moments Christ Child, but in the child who was born to die. A real-world Savior for a world with real problems. The babe of Bethlehem who would set his sights on Jerusalem. The One whose birth was lit by a star and whose death would be met with darkness.

And so, at our Lord’s birth, the angels sang, “Peace on earth, goodwill to men.” But there’s still another song to sing, and we sing it as Jesus is riding on a donkey into Jerusalem: “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!.”

Not peace on earth, but peace in heaven. You might say, well, there’s always peace in heaven. Heaven is the place where we escape the evils of this world. But there’s more to it than that. Peace in heaven isn’t just a description of the place, it’s the good news that there’s peace in heaven because God is at peace with us. And it would only be right for us to ask, “How could God be at peace with us? How could he be at peace with a world that’s constantly at war? How could he be at peace with a world that ignores him and takes his blessings for granted? How could he be at peace with a world that blatantly disregards his will? How could he be at peace with a world that has taken the celebration of the birth of his Son and turned it into just another time to eat, drink, and be merry? How could he be at peace with me, a sinner?”

If we’re to recover Christmas, I think we need to first recover Advent. Advent is a season of preparation—not simply of our homes, meals, and presents, but more importantly a time of preparation for our hearts. A time of assessment and acknowledgment and a time to recognize why our Lord came in the first place. A time to recognize why that infant child, born to be King, would one day receive a crown of thorns. A time for repentance.

Look at your lives and turn once more away from sin. Think about your lives. Your hopes. Your dreams. What are you looking forward to? What are you planning for? Are your hearts set merely on the things of this world? On new cars and new homes? On toys and vacations? On a stable financial future? What do you want out of life? What are your goals? Are they the goals that God would have for you? Are you thinking of the life to come, or are you setting your sights only on the things of this world? Are you putting your money toward things to please yourself, or are you giving to the work of the Church, and thereby investing in eternity?

The season of Advent is one of assessment. It’s a time to remember that the things of this world are indeed already passing away, a time to set our hearts, once more, on things above. A time to look at the child who came to die, a time to crucify our sinful passions. A time to look to the cradle, but also to the cross.

And so we rejoice with those on the road to Jerusalem who said, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord.” And we recognize that he comes to die for our sins. We don’t simply cry out against the evils of this world, but we repent of the evils of our own heart. We recognize the troubles we have caused, the damage we have done, the friends we have hurt, and the responsibilities we have not met.

Yes, Advent is a time for repentance, a time of sadness over sin. But it is also a time of hope. For if we are sinners, we have a Savior. And if the end is near, so also, in Christ, is there a new beginning. If we have made a mess with our lives, Christ has come to make things right. And he will come again.

For the world, Christmas is a big game of pretend—of creating an idyllic world that doesn’t exist, speaking of a peace that doesn’t exist. But for us, Christmas is life itself. Therefore, in this season of Advent, let us prepare our hearts once more for our Lord’s coming. Let us cast away the works of darkness and be filled with every good work and with acts of charity and generosity. Let us forgive as we have been forgiven. And let us embrace the child who came to embrace us. And let us offer up our lives as gifts to the One who came to offer up his life as his gift of salvation for us all. Amen.

The peace of God which surpasses all understanding guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.