The View from the Top

Jesu Juva

St. Luke 2:1-20                                                             

December 24, 2021

Christmas Eve                                              

Dear saints of our Savior,

          It’s probably been twenty years since I last rode a Ferris wheel.  But there’s nothing quite like it.  That smooth ascent up into the sky—followed by the downward drift back to earth—it’s a remarkable journey that ultimately deposits you right where you started.  The Ferris wheel is one wheel that takes you nowhere.  Just a 360 degree round trip.

          Every round trip begins at the bottom—on terra firma.  And whether you’re at the county fair or the amusement park, the sounds and smells at ground level are almost always the same:  loud carnival music in your ears, with the odors of cotton candy, grease, sweat, and manure wafting through the air.

          But then, before you know it, you are off and away, up into the sky, into the wild blue yonder.  The breeze is fresh.  The sun is warm.  The sounds of the earth fade away to silence.  But the view—the view from the top is simply spectacular—always amazing.  The earth with her sins and sorrows shrinks beneath our eyes.  As we rise above it all to see the bigger picture, problems and pains—trials and temptations—fade away.  At the top of the Ferris wheel we find clarity.  We see the big picture.

          Beloved in the Lord, Christmas Eve takes us right to the top of the Ferris wheel.  Christmas Eve is one of those rare moments in life where God give us that same clarity—grace to see the big picture.  On Christmas Eve we can temporarily take in the view from the top—as we hear the message of the angels and follow the shepherds to Bethlehem, and marvel at the manger.  Here tonight (in a darkened church, no less) we see things as they really are—with Christmas clarity.

          On this holy night we take in the view from the top.  Tonight we see with clarity the loving plans and purposes of God.  Life at ground level can seem so rough and random at times.  Nothing goes according to plan.  We struggle to find purpose in this world.  This was no less true for Mary and Joseph:  an unexpected, unprecedented pregnancy, an inconvenient and dangerous journey to Bethlehem, which concluded beneath the most famous “no vacancy” sign in the history of civilization.  But this—this was the plan of God.  Let that be a lesson for us.  When our best laid plans and purposes run aground, when life seems rough and random, God is at work on something better—something surprising—something prepared for you with love.  Can you see it?

          From the top of the Ferris wheel your view of the world is enlarged.  Your horizons expand.  You can take in the big picture.  And so it is on this holy night.  Tonight we can see the size and scope—the marvelous magnitude—of God’s redeeming grace in His Son.  Tonight we see just how much God loves us. 

Tonight, as we take in the view from the top, we are joined by angels—messengers from God.  And this multitude of the heavenly host explains everything.  The angels give us the interpretation of the incarnation.  They bring good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. 

          Did you catch those last two words?  All people.  God’s gift of His Son at Christmas is a gift for all people—people of all nations of all races and tribes and languages.  Our culture likes to put a fence around Christmas and label it a “Christian” holiday.  But God didn’t send His Son only for Christians, or only for Jews, or only for those who would eventually have the good sense to believe in Him.  In Jesus, God reconciles the whole world.  God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son.  Joyful, all Ye nations rise, Join the triumph of the skies.   This is something big—good news, great joy, for all people.  Including you.  Can you see it?

          Ferris wheels are fun; but they are governed by the immutable laws of physics.  What goes up must come down.  And that downward trajectory is also a part of our Christmas clarity.  We can’t really fathom the size and scope of God’s redeeming love until we acknowledge our daily deep and steep descent into disobedience—that downward dive into depravity that none of us can escape until we are deposited six feet under.  By nature we are bottom dwellers.  By nature we reject God’s rules.  We rebel!  And just like our first parents in paradise, we hide ourselves from His searching, seeking love.  Unless you can confess this mess—unless you can acknowledge your sin and its wages—you will never know the marvel of this night, nor the wonders of His love. Can you see your sin—how it trips you up and entangles you and binds you to earth with a force greater than gravity?

          If so, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.  For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.  Unto you is born a Savior.  And that is the best of news.  A Savior is the perfect gift for every sinner.  God does not abandon you in your sin and shame.  You have a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.  He came down to earth from heaven to stand shoulder to shoulder with sinners.  For us men and for our salvation He came down from heaven—God of God, light of light, very God of very God, begotten not made, being of one substance with the Father—yet born of the Virgin Mary.  A steeper and deeper dive no man has ever made. 

          This Jesus entered our lowly world of blood, sweat and tears.  The first breaths He drew on earth were pungent with the smell of manure from lowing cattle, not to mention the foul smell of stinky shepherds.  This is the way it had to be—God lowering Himself to your level—God humbling Himself to bear your sins and be your Savior.  His crucifixion and resurrection—His humiliation and exaltation—this round trip from heaven to earth and back again—this is God’s great plan to save you from your sins—and to raise you up from death to life.  Can you see it?

          Beloved in the Lord, Christmas Eve takes us right to the top of the Ferris wheel.  Tonight we see the big picture of our salvation . . . and not just ours alone.  This is bigger than us.  On Christmas Eve our view from the top allows us to see just beyond the horizons of the earth—to get a glimpse of another shore and a greater light—where that multitude which no man can number, whose hope was in the Word made flesh—where all the saints of our Savior dwell in the peace of Jesus, evermore and evermore.  Some you know are already there.  Their place in the pew is empty tonight.  They will not gather with us around the table, tree or fireplace tonight.  But with the clarity of Christmas—with our view from the top—we see them with the Lord, believing that we will go where they have gone, all by the grace of God.  Can you see it?

          At some point in the next twelve days our ride to the top will come to an end.  The clarity of Christmas will give way to the thorns and thistles of life in a fallen world.  The Ferris wheel always takes you right back to where you started from.  We will step right back into the challenging work that God has set before us.  That’s what the shepherds did.  The shepherds returned to their sheep—to the unglamorous work of grazing livestock.  But they returned to their daily grind glorifying and praising God for all that they had heard and seen.  We too will go back to work and back to school—but with greater clarity—with our eyes opened wide to the wonders of God’s love.  Tonight’s view from the top only comes once a year.  So look and listen and ponder it all in your heart.  Merry Christmas!

          In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.