1. Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Heavenly Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The message from God’s Word, as we celebrate our Savior’s birth this Christmas Eve, is taken from Luke 2:1-20, it’s entitled, “The Song of the Angels,” dear brothers and sisters in Christ.
2. When we think of the night Christ was born, we tend to think of it as being very peaceful and quiet, a night where no noise polluted the air. But we don’t think this because the Bible tells us it was abnormally noiseless that night of Christ’s birth. The Bible says no such thing. Instead, we think this because that’s what we’re told by hymns like “O Little Town of Bethlehem” and, of course, “Silent Night.” Now, in fairness to those hymns, I don’t think the authors were trying to add to the Word of God or asserting that this silence was a historical fact. I think they use silence as a poetic way of depicting the peacefulness of Christ’s birth, a way of showing how every other care, concern, sorrow, and fear faded away in the moment that God’s only-begotten Son first breathed the air he was going to fill with salvation.
3. On the one hand, it’s a beautiful thing to consider that kind of metaphorical silence on the night of Christ’s birth. But on the other hand, too, there’s beauty to be found considering the noise of Christmas, to consider the songs of sorrow that were ringing through the air across the world on the night of Christ’s birth and how they can now be transformed into songs of joy.
4. While it may have been rather quiet in that little town of Bethlehem, there was most certainly wailing somewhere. That night, just a few miles away in Jerusalem, King Herod maybe cried out in his sleep, having nightmares over the blood he’d shed, how he’d taken the lives of his own family members, his wife, his own sons, to protect his throne, a throne that didn’t really belong to him. Maybe that night Israel’s false king sang a song of sorrow, crying out for peace he couldn’t achieve, no matter how much blood he shed. And certainly throughout the world, various emperors and kings and chiefs sang that same song the night of Christ’s birth, furious that all their strength, all their wisdom, all their wrath could not conquer their enemies, secure their glory, or bring peace to their people.
5. Throughout the world that night, wives sang the song of sorrow in empty beds, weeping over husbands that never came home from war. Husbands sang it as their wives died in childbirth. Mothers sang the song of sorrow as they watched their children swallowed up by diseases they couldn’t drive away. Fathers sang with them as their children wailed with empty stomachs. They sang the song of sorrow because they were unable to make the rain fall on the earth or force the barren ground to yield its fruit.
6. Throughout the world that night, sinners lost in darkness sang the song of sorrow, unable to see the light of God. They bloodied their hands crafting idols who wouldn’t answer their prayers. They sacrificed the flesh of animals, the flesh of men even, to bring themselves nearer God. But they couldn’t find him—couldn’t find his mercy, his forgiveness, his salvation, his arms. All they found was condemnation and confusion.
7. And across space and time, tonight, we are singing that song of sorrow. We look out at this world of darkness, a world filled with war and bloodshed, hatred and cruelty. Our versions of kings and emperors rise up against other nations and pour out violence to puff up their own glory, glory that will be forgotten in a generation. Anger and bitterness poison our world. Neighbors who are supposed to look out for one another look for reasons to hate one another. People who were supposed to be loyal to us cast us aside, betray us, lie about us, walk away from us. So, we look out on a world full of the sins outside us, and we sing the song of sorrow.
8. We sing that song again when we see the world full with our own sins. Just as we were betrayed, we’ve betrayed. Just as we were hurt, we hurt. We’ve worshiped ourselves, made idols of our own pride, our greed, our selfishness. We tried to build a world of light and glory and comfort for ourselves by trusting in our own strength, our own goodness. And what was the result? More darkness, more cold, more loneliness, more sorrow, more sin. So tonight, on the night of Christ’s birth, here we are, far from silent. Here we are singing the song of sorrow.
9. But fear not, because now the angel of the Lord has burst into the night sky in Bethlehem, and he has come with a new song for you to sing. He has appeared in that silent night sky with the glory of the Lord shining around him, armed with words of peace that silence every song of sorrow and give you the right to join the heavenly song of joy. “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger” (Luke 2:11–12). This the angel declares, and then the song grows in voices and majesty, with the heavenly host proclaiming, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is well pleased!” (Luke 2:14).
10. And what do the words of this song say to you, to us, to all of mankind? Those words proclaimed to Herod and every other king that the hour has come for them to turn from their violence, to see that peace had now arrived, because flowing within the veins of that little child in Bethlehem was the only blood that could give man peace with God. That little child would grow into the man who would carry his cross to Calvary, shed his blood, and win salvation, win peace, win eternal life for all who believe.
11. Here, in these angelic words, the wife and mother who mourns her lifeless husband and children can know comfort, knowing that the one who will conquer the grave has arrived. Here, the father and husband who failed to drive away starvation and disease can rest as the infant Christ rests in his mother’s arms, knowing that nothing will stop the Son of God from crushing Satan, destroying sin, conquering death in his bloody cross and empty tomb. Here, those wandering in darkness dashing themselves to pieces on worthless idols can hear the song of the angels, rush to Bethlehem, look upon the face of the infant Christ, and see the face of God.
12. And tonight, you can do likewise. Tonight, you can join those of every tribe and nation and generation who weep the tears of sorrow. You can join those who share your song of sorrow over this sinful, fallen world. You can go to Bethlehem and join the angel’s song of joy because the Son of God is born. There before you is the one who will crush every sorrow, shatter every grave, dry every tear, and clothe you in the eternal comfort of his Father.
13. Tonight, the kings of the earth can sing with joy as they lay their heavy crowns at the infant feet of Christ, knowing that he will do what only the King of kings can do—give mankind peace with God and peace with one another. And in the same way, you can bring him what weighs you down, all your sins, your iniquities, your festering guilt that won’t leave you alone. Leave those at the foot of the manger, because this is the Son of God born to carry them to the cross. And there at Calvary, your Lord finished the journey that begins in Bethlehem tonight. He destroyed your every iniquity, buried your every sin in a grave that will never be opened. With his nail-pierced hands, he ripped the devil’s claws off of you, killed the beast, and gave you the right to live with him in his kingdom forever.
14. So right now, rejoice in this holy night that is not silent. Rejoice in this holy night that is filled with singing saints of every nation, with angels and archangels, with all the host of heaven proclaiming the song of Christ’s love and victory, the song we never need to stop singing because Jesus Christ our Lord will never stop singing it to us. Amen. Now the peace of God that passes all understanding, guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, until life everlasting. Amen.
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