12/9/62

Scripture: Luke 1: 1-4; 2: 1-10.

Before plunging into the subject matter of a good book, one is often minded first to read the introduction. This helps to prepare one’s thinking for the reading which follows. And one thereafter reads with better understanding the content of the book.

The first four verses of the first chapter of the Gospel according to Luke are a prologue, an introduction. In fact they introduce one to the book of Acts as well as to the Gospel of Luke. Even though Luke addresses himself to a “Most excellent Theophilus,” he is writing not for private circulation, but for general reading. Theophilus may have been a kind of patron who stood ready to underwrite the cost of the book. Or he may, more likely, have been a person of prominence who was being trained in, or informed about, the Christian good news.

And good news is what Luke was relating in his writing. Luke was talking about an event in history -- the things which Christians believed because they had seen them, heard them, lived during the events. Luke was talking of things which had been brought to a fulfillment.

The Christian religion is not just a form of organized speculation; it is not alone some thinkers’ well-thought-out philosophy. It is based upon an event in history. The life of Jesus is a unique and incomparable event. In that event, Luke was sure that God had revealed Himself. The message of salvation had not been partially or tentatively set forth; it had been accomplished. Not only the Gospels, but the whole of the New Testament proclaims the conviction that God has entered into history with the coming of Jesus upon earth.

Luke and the other New Testament writers were sure that, for human understanding of the nature of God, Jesus is final -- not the end, but the ultimate. He was eager that his hearers and readers be able to see that what Jesus Christ brings to life goes on expanding and ripening beyond all reckoning. Luke was about to write a narrative of what had been delivered to the Christians of his time by eye-witnesses and others. And there were many of them -- more than can now be known. Some were humble folk whose names have long since been forgotten. But they had all contributed to the remembered truth about Jesus which Luke wanted to record.

The importance of the original apostles, the special 12 disciples, is obvious. There were others mentioned by name in the Gospels and in the book of Acts whose testimony is important. But these were only a part of the great number of those who had seen Jesus and had heard him, and had begun to follow him. What recollections some of this great number may have had of Jesus might have been as important, as significant, as valuable, as what could be told by more prominent people. Here is a reminder of the role of all kinds of us people, in every generation. We are ministers of the word, receivers and bearers of the good news.

There is another thought in connection with Luke’s references to eye-witnesses. For many years after Jesus’ crucifixion, and when the basic materials of the gospel writings were being gathered, there were those who could testify: “That which we have heard, which we have seen with our own eyes, which we have looked upon and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life.” A great personality can stamp itself so deeply upon the memory of friends and companions that they can retain a vivid impression of him through many years.

William Lawrence was a bishop in Massachusetts who knew and loved that great preacher of the late 19th century, Phillips Brooks. 37 years after the death of Phillips Brooks, William Lawrence wrote his “Life of Phillips Brooks.” In the preface of his book, Lawrence wrote: “I have depended entirely upon my own memories.” The interval between the death of Brooks and the writing of Lawrence’s book, 37 years, was approximately the same length of time as that between the crucifixion of Jesus and the writing of Mark. Lawrence was 80 years old when he wrote his book. He lived to be over 90, with a mind still fresh and eager to tell all he remembered of Phillips Brooks as he had known him. How surely must the fact of Jesus stamped itself upon the memories of those who, for as long as they lived, could tell, without fancy or vagueness, what they knew of him. So long as they lived, and had memories, their testimony was available, and it was given.

Now what was the truth concerning the things of which Theophilus had been informed? It was two-fold, and our understanding suffers a loss when we forget either of these aspects.

1) In the first place, the truth had to do with the facts of life of the historical Jesus. Sometimes these facts are a bit hard to define, and what has been called the “quest of the historical Jesus” has bogged down in conflicting opinions as to what can be actually known about the Man of Nazareth.

Some Christian thinkers had reacted from that and had sought a quite mystical Christ -- an ideal and an inspiration which they asserted has come to us, and remained with us, whether the facts of history can be attested or not. But that would remove Christian faith from one of the very foundation stones which Luke regarded as essential. He wanted Theophilus, and anyone else who might read his gospel, to know the vivid reality of the Master who was known by people in Galilee and in Jerusalem.

Some religions may be able to remain indifferent to historical fact, searching for truth in the purely speculative realm. Christianity can not. It rests upon a series of events through which God revealed Himself in action. It is indispensable to try to know the historical Jesus, a particular man who grew up in a practicing carpenter’s home in Nazareth.

2) But if this awareness of the historical Jesus is the beginning of faith, it is not the end. Luke was not intent on a mere chronicle about Jesus. He was interested in the meaning, the immense significance of that history. For him, the life of Jesus was not just one more bit of human drama. For him it was an account of the redeemer. Here he had found a career that brought more than mere information to people’s minds; but brought transformation to their souls.

The Jesus of history is to be experienced and confessed as the living Christ. But the New Testament also reverses this judgment; for it roots this faith in the historical Jesus. The word about Christ refers to Him who lived among people, suffered under Pontius Pilate, walked the ways, and died the death of a person on earth.

With the introduction then stated in a few pointed sentences, Luke goes on to relate the good news which is the purpose of his writing. He gives an account of the birth of John to the elderly couple -- Zacharias and his wife, Elizabeth. This was the babe who was later to be known as “the Baptist.” Then Luke goes on to tell of the discovery of Mary, a cousin of Elizabeth, that she was to have a child. And in the second chapter of his book, Luke tells the story of the birth of this child.

There had gone out a decree from the emperor, Caesar Augustus, that all the world over which he ruled was to be taxed. And every man had to register for the taxing in the place of his birth or family headquarters. It was a bad time for Joseph, and his wife Mary, to be traveling. Mary was expecting her first born and was far along. The trip was a tedious and lengthy one, for they would have to travel all the way from Nazareth in Galilee down through Samaria into Judea, past Jerusalem into Bethlehem, where Joseph had been born in a family that traced its ancestry back to King David.

The village of Bethlehem was in a relatively fertile region. Much of the surrounding country was stern and barren. But Bethlehem, or “house of bread,” as the name means, was surrounded by some land of a gentler kind. It was a pleasant destination for the travelers, except that it had been a hard trip, and every place in town was crowded with other travelers who had got there first; for a host of others had to come and register also. There wasn’t a room available in town in which the Galilean couple could stay. The inn was crowded to the doors. The best the inn keeper could do for them was to give them permission to spend the night in the stable where the animals were kept. So it was there that Mary’s baby was born. And she wrapped the babe in some swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger.

Luke goes on to say that there was something, not only pitiably poor and inconvenient, but something uneasily wonderful about the event. Out in a field near the village, where sheep were grazing by day, the shepherds had the flock bedded down and were watching out for them through the night. The wakeful shepherds were sure that the sky brightened, and that they not only saw an angel, but heard an angelic voice saying to them: “Don’t be afraid; see, I bring you good news” ----- “good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.”

This, then, is what Luke has to say about the birth of Jesus. It was “good tidings” --- “good news” of great joy for everybody. A savior was born to the earth! And this is essentially what the gospel is -- good tidings! It is what the Scriptures are -- good news! We call this to remembrance on this Universal Bible Sunday which is usually observed on the second Sunday in Advent.

Now let us talk a little bit about this “good news” which all Christians, lay and ordained, teachers and taught ones, young and old, men and women, should be sharing.

1) In the first place, the “good news” is given. It is not to be pleaded for, to be exhorted from some mysterious and powerful source. It is already here. It does not have to be paid for by great self-exertion.

2) In the second place, it is given to all. It is no one’s special secret. No one person or group hold claim upon it. We may find it within; or outside the institutional church. It may be found and proclaimed on either side of a military boundary. It is communicated in any language.

3) Thirdly, it needs no special mediation. It speaks for itself. It is not reserved for any special place or any special season or day or hour. It is just as good at 3 o’clock Tuesday as at 11 o’clock Sunday. It is just as good in July as in December; just as good in Tokyo as in Wisconsin Rapids [Hanalei].

4) In the fourth place it is not the monopoly of a few censors, or editors, or live wires, or priests, or specially ordained people. It stands on its own without editing. It can not be confined to a liturgy or ritual, though it is sometimes glimpsed there.

5) Fifth, the good news is not the property of the church as we know it, and certainly it is not the property of the church officers. On the contrary, the church is the product of the good news, in which some folk have believed so fervently that they could not let loose of it.

The task of the Christian person is to hear, receive, and pass on the good news. In the beginning verses of Luke’s Gospel, we found the author addressing his writing to Theophilus. There is another volume, the book of Acts, which does likewise. It is one of the things that mark the introduction to the Gospel of Luke as introduction to both of these books. For the book of Acts begins: “The former treatise have I made, O Theophilus, of all that Jesus began both to do and teach.” [Acts 1: 1].

As Halford Luccock says: “Here, in Acts, is volume two, made necessary before volume one really gets into circulation.” Even before “the former treatise” has been properly proofread, the heralds of the news seem to race down the streets of the Grecian and Roman world calling out, “Extra! Extra! New developments in the case of Jesus!”

This good news, which is the Christian message, takes on some of the qualities of a newspaper. The message is literally new every morning, with authentic additions of yesterday’s experience and history. All through history there has been conflict between what newspaper offices call their Files and Today’s Edition. It is not an exaggeration, says Luccock, to say that two guilds have been at work in the Christian Church, the embalmers and the creators. The embalmers are those who feel that all wisdom and history worth noting are entombed in the files of yesterday. The creators are those who think of their religion as a living, flowing, dynamic, many-sided experience. In their concept any “former treatise” is always fulfilled in a new “extra.”

So the Christian gospel must be cried out today in the streets of Rome and Milwaukee, Berlin and London and Wisconsin Rapids, Detroit and Madison and Honolulu and Hanalei, on battlefields of politics and industry, as “stop the press” news concerning the impact of the truth of Jesus, “the same yesterday, today and forever,” on the changing life and experience of people. In a line of poetry, Strickland Gilliland expressed it this way; “God kept on talking when his book had gone to press.” That is good doctrine in the tradition of the churches of which we are a part, where there has been a continuing belief that “God hath yet more light to break forth out of His holy word.”

It is a tragedy to think of our religion as a closed book. It is more like an unfinished book. Edmund Wilson gave his impression of Michalet’s “History of France” in these words: “There is no book which makes us feel, when we have finished it, that we have lived through and known with such intimacy so many generations of mankind. And it makes us feel something more: that we ourselves are the last chapter of the story, and that the next chapter is for us to create.” We are the latest chapter in God’s continued story!

This, then, is the present chapter in the good news we proclaim, as it has been proclaimed to us. Because we want to proclaim it, we have entered the advent season in awe and expectation. As we approach Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, we sing the good tidings in such carols as “While shepherds watched their flocks by night” and others. And we treasure such verse as this poem by Alexander T. Coyle titled “Advent.”

It has occurred to me

That many, many wonderful things

Have happened in my life

For which I was so completely unprepared --

Too insensitive,

Too ignorant,

Too frivolous --

That their full significance never struck me

until years later --

Or perhaps never.

Possibly this has happened to you too.

If so, then the Advent season is for us --

For you and me.

The Advent,

Which begins on Sunday,

Is for preparing for Christmas,

For preparing our ears - to hear the delicate

rustle of angel wings.

Our eyes -

to see the star,

Our feet-

to hurry quietly to the stable,

Our knees -

to bow humbly before Him,

Our minds -

to comprehend,

Our hearts -

to adore.

Let this whole season of Advent and of Christmas be to us a precious time of remembrance and of faith and of hope!

[Prayer]

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Dates and places delivered:
Wisconsin Rapids, December 9, 1962.

Imiola Church, December 14, 1969.

Waioli Hui’ia Church, December 19, 1971.