If I had to preach a Christmas sermon, the following is what I would preach, “When Gentiles Sing to Jews.”

I wonder if we totally grasp the weight of the incarnation of the Son of God, coming as a small Christ child.

Luke 1-2 should serve as a reminder to those of us who are Gentiles that the coming of the Messiah is primarily a Jewish event. Luke, who may have been a gentile, understood this. Keeping with his expressed purpose inLuke 1:1-4, the evangelist writes in the remainder of the first chapter and into the second to inform us of the events surrounding the advent of the Christ child. It is not insignificant that the events he’s preserved for us are entirely and utterly Jewish.

Luke 1:5 further introduces the Jewish Christ story with mention of the King of Judea and a priest whose wife was a daughter of Aaron. They walk “blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord” though without a child. Reminiscent of Hannah? Possibly, though Mary is a far more likely candidate. Next, Zechariah is chosen by lot to enter the temple. Gabriel appears and the forerunner of the Messiah is foretold. It’s all sounding completely Jewish and we could continue to see the explicit and tease out the implicit should we wish, but the Christmas story isn’t simply about the coming of the Jewish Messiah. It’s about a recalling the hints of the expansion of God’s people by the Messiah.

Consider, for example,Isaiah 49. The prophetic word opens entreating the “peoples from afar” to listen up. This includes you and I. Everyone should perk up when YHWH speaks to the nations. The prophet then speaks of the Lord’s servant “Israel, in whom I will be glorified.” Is this a redefinition of Israel? The Messiah as (an) Israel? He continues with a thrilling word:

“Is it too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to bring back the preserved of Israel [? Yes]; I will make you as a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth” (Isaiah 49:6).

This salvation is a person and he is the Christmas story. The wonder of the Christmas story is not only that the Jewish Messiah has come to “save his people from their sins” but that Gentiles are included so that this salvation is global in extent.  What a wonderful surprise! The Gentile inclusion opens up a new whole new aspect of the work of the Messiah like one opening a door to an attic which had been shut up for ages. The treasures in that attic were there the whole time–hidden from eternity past?–but only recently (first century AD) brought to light. Paul calls it a “mystery” which has been made known by “holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit” (Ephesians 3:5). And as if we should start to wonder exactly what that mystery which has been made known is, he spells it out plainly:

“This mystery is that the Gentiles are fellow heirs, members of the same body, and partakers of the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel” (Ephesians 3:6).

Revisiting the attic analogy, Paul writes that “the mystery of Christ…was not made known to the sons of men in other generations as it has now been revealed” (Eph 3:4-5). It’s not that the “mystery” wasn’t there but that it was just that, a mystery and it had to be revealed.

Praise be to God! The Christ child whom we celebrate this season makes this mystery possible and known!

With the mystery in mind, we shall look closely at a mystery-laden Christmas hymn commonly sung in churches during Advent, O Come, O Come Emmanuel. Familiarize yourself with the hymn if you’re feeling a little rusty since  last year. I want to draw your attention to the refrain with which you will undoubtedly be familiar:

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

Note that the twice repeated “Rejoice!” is a command. You, rejoice! I’m talking to you. Who’s talking? Everyone singing? Sure, but more specifically, I think the speaker is supposed to be a Gentile. The last verse seems to imply this (“O, Desire of nations”) coupled with the third person references to Israel scattered throughout. So, we’ve got Gentiles singing. What are they singing? Of whom are they singing? Singing of Emmanuel…God with us…the Messiah. To whom are the Gentiles singing of the Messiah? To Israel!

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel employs Gentiles to sing of the Messiah to Israel. It seems kind of backwards doesn’t it? This is the partial hardening (Romans 11:25).  Shouldn’t Israel be singing “Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come even unto you, O nations!” That’s what you would think; but the mystery changes our thinking.

When we Gentiles sing this hymn we should be overwhelmed with grief for unbelieving Israel. We should be overwhelmed by the fact that we are singing to them instead of them singing to us. We shouldn’t be singing at all, but Christ is such a great savior that we can’t help but sing and to all nations and most certainly to unbelieving Israel. Yes, we proclaim their Messiah and their salvation, but by the mystery and the mind-expanding work of Christ, he is also our Messiah and our salvation. We sing. We sing.

When Gentiles sing to Jews about the Messiah, may we be reminded of the Gentile inclusion, meaning that we who were not a people have been brought near by the blood of the final Passover Lamb who has expanded what it means to be the people of God and children of Abraham.

Hallelujah!

I fired up my trusty external harddrive sidekick which has sustained me through numerous laptop crashes and now houses years of antaño artifacts. One assignment from my college English 101 class was to come up with original analogies. I don’t think any of these will catch on and interestingly enough, I don’t really think the first is original to me:

Let’s make like a shepherd and get the flock out of here.

Wednesdays are like celebrations after a long-fought battle.

A good book is like cuddling with your snickerdoodle, you don’t wanna pull yourself away.

Writing is like trying to catch money in one of those money-blower machine thingys; like the money, your thoughts are coming so fast, you can’t catch them all.

English 101 is like Monty Python; sometimes funny, other times, you are just confused and want to turn it off.

I am like Andorra.

Headaches are like that yappy dog you just wanna kick.

Salsa without chips is like salmon without a river.

College is like waking up everyday only to be punched in the face.

phil-omni-glot (from Greek phil “love” + Latin omni “all” + Greek glot “tongue, language”) : noun. A lover of all languages. (A personal coinage of yours truly.)

Why love all languages?

The point has been made that the reason people from every tribe, language, people and nation are seen worshiping around Jesus’ throne inRevelation 5 is because people from every tribe, language, people and nation will find him all-satisfying. In other words, what is special about the one true God is that people from every ethnicity and tongue find in him what they need and they worship. God is therefore not a tribal deity whose “splendor” is seen by a select, remote view, but he is the Creator of the heavens and the earth and his Son is the One through whom all that has its existence was created (John 1:3).

Analogy: If I design a pair of shoes and only people in West Virginia like them, I won’t be a failure, but I won’t be a complete success either. However, as in the case of Nike, if I can design shoes that are desired and praised by people all over the world, that points to a superior shoe. A diverse body recognizes its value.

By his blood Jesus ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation (Rev. 5:9). This is their “new song” (Rev. 5:9a), praising this act. The answer then as to why to love all languages is because God loves all languages and ransomed people from every language by the blood of his Son. Moreover, the telos of each of those languages is to find praise and adoration for the Lamb who was slain and is worthy on the lips of the ransomed speakers.

The Christian has another reason to love languages: because the Scriptures were written in other languages (i.e., not English). Consequently, since I know you’ve heard of sermon jams, you’ll want to give the John Chapter 1 Jam herein linked a listen (featuringJohn 1:1-3 from the Greek New Testament and the Latin Vulgate courtesy of GreekLatinAudio.com [sorry, maybe one with Hebrew will be forthcoming]).

Long live philology!

I’m sure you have heard preachers ask the question, Why, after you’re saved, doesn’t God just take you out of the world? There are probably more answers to this than there are categories of High School Musical memorabilia; but I think there’s a (lame) analogy in baked barbecue chicken (which, as you can guess, I made last night; thus the following afflatus):

Bake chicken skin side down at 425 for 45 minutes.
Remove from oven and spoon barbecue sauce over and return to oven for 40 minutes at 375.

So goes the recipe. The chicken after 45 minutes at 425 looked crispy and ready to eat. I venture to say it was cooked; but did we just eat the plain chicken after 45 minutes at 425? No! The chicken was basted with barbecue sauce and returned to the oven to bake for another 40ish minutes. Why? Why return it to the oven, if it’s already ready to eat already? Because it tastes better to the cook after baking longer.

“Tell us what this means teacher,” you say.

I’ve been baked once (“saved”). I got the barbecue sauce (“Holy Spirit”) and I’m baking a second time (“sanctification”) to taste better to the Cook.

More than this and the analogy breaks down quicker than teenyboppers watching High School Musical II.

When bread becomes toast, it can never go back to being bread again.

Bread to toast is a permanent change for a very specific purpose: to be eaten. May God suffer me permanent change that I may be eaten by him.