The Third Sunday in Advent

“Once in our world, a stable had something in it that was bigger than our whole world.”
– C.S. Lewis

My mother-in-law passed down her nativity set to us. Made with durable materials, those figures have been touched by three generations of hands. Moms set it up the first time, perhaps, but inevitably, the kids move the pieces around, setting the scene for how they see in their minds' eyes the people and animals encircling Jesus. The stable is made from pieces of wood, not smooth and polished, but more reminiscent of a utilitarian space constructed to get the job done.

In such a place, as C.S. Lewis notes, there resides someone bigger than the entire world – not just the Jewish world, or the Middle Eastern world, or our globe, but the entirety of the galaxies beyond which man has no understanding. He surpasses all of that, and yet, as the children kneel by that creche, eyes aglow, picturing what it must have been like on that most blessed of nights, they see a baby. No nursery bedecked in blue, no comfortable rocking chair for a nursing mother; instead, animals and their accompanying smells, shepherds and their respectful awe.

This is how the Lord has done marvelous things' this is how he has made his salvation known. It is only fitting that in addition to the awe we feel for this most humble of acts – to come to us not as a mighty warrior but as a helpless child – we make music and burst into song.

In some traditions, churches would hold “hymn sings,” nights dedicated to singing only the songs from an old psalter hymnal. Though we had sung them during worship sets in our morning service, the evenings set apart for those joyous songs were sung with more vigor. I remember most of "Joy to the World's" lyrics.

He rules the world with truth and grace

And makes the nations prove

The glories of His righteousness

And wonders of His love!

Voices energetically bounced along the repeated lines of “wonders of his love, and wonders of his love.” Those more stoic worshipers allowed themselves to bounce a bit during those lines, revealing that even the most reserved had some joy to leak.

In that final verse, we're taken out of the manger and into the now, where he rules the world with truth and grace. Oh, how we need truth and grace! Then and now, and all times in between, nations need all that Jesus has to offer. Amen.