A while ago a grandfather was taking his visiting 3 year old grandson Billy around his small town showing him the local Christmas lights. He stopped at the Town Square, rolled down the window of the car and showed him the nativity scene. "Billy, look - there's Baby Jesus in the manger," he said. "Baby Jesus," the little Billy repeated innocently. The next year Grandpa took Billy around town to see the lights again. "And there's Baby Jesus in the manger," he said once again. "Baby Jesus?" the four year-old Billy asked. The next year Grandpa repeated their annual small town tour of lights, and coming to the nativity, Grandpa said, "And there's Baby Jesus in the manger." Now five years old, a much wiser Billy exclaimed, "Hasn't that kid grown up yet?"

         Christmas Eve is here at last, a night when memories are made. It's a night so full of memories that it's hard to keep our heads clear, so full are they of nostalgia of the past and expectation of the future. There's magic and wonder in the air, even for us who, like five year-old Billy, feel well past the age of magic and wonder.

         What is it about Christmas that can fill our hearts once again with such childlike expectation? What is it for those of us who may feel too old for such things, and yet know it nonetheless? It's certainly not the buildup, really it's not. Not the commercials promoting colored I-Pods or plasma TVs or Singing Santas or Christmas Gift Cards. All these things have been hawked at us since before Halloween. Christmas joy is not found in the special toys, such as the little red wagon for babies that comes equipped with seat belts and cup holders.

         Nor is the wonder of Christmas to be found in the crowded malls. It's definitely not the parking lots with their circling, circling and circling again to find a good space, only to get aced out by another car that pulls in ahead of you.

         By the way, I did that once last week - pulled into a space ahead of another car. But I had gotten there first, and waited quite awhile for the car to leave. But the Lutheran in me felt guilty for driving in ahead of the other fellow. I guess if you want to be a truly righteous Christmas shopper, you need to park as far away from the doors and walk as far as possible - that is, if you can still find a space way out there.

         No, none of those things evokes Christmas for us - not even the traditional things - houses festooned with lights, Santa at the Mall, or Salvation Army bell-ringers. It's not even the Carols sung in church or nativities or decorated trees, or even going to the old family home.

         What makes Christmas real is Jesus, the Christ child. It's true: "Jesus is the reason for the season!" The tiny baby born in Bethlehem is the reason we rejoice tonight. The peace and joy we sense comes from the promise and the fulfillment of the Hope of mankind. God fulfilled His promise. He did send the Messiah, His only Son, and His Son became our Savior! As God tells us in Jeremiah 29:11, "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, ".plans to give you hope and a future." We really do have a hope and a future in Christ.

         Despite the gloom and doom of war and politics and crime and family troubles and terrorists, Jesus Christ is our Savior and always will be. No matter what others may say, no matter if skeptics and atheists say otherwise, Jesus is still our only Lord. No matter if governments pass laws against our faith, Jesus truly was born and He really did die for our sins. And so today, right now, Jesus lives to bring us to heaven. Nothing people can come up with - "no thing" - will ever change that fact that Jesus was born and lives to be our Lord.

         We have come here tonight to worship a living, grownup Savior, not a baby. Yes, Billy, the kid did grow up. He did what He came for; He died to forgive the sins of all people. His mission was a complete success, and so we reap the benefits. All who trust Him for forgiveness and peace with God will receive what God has promised - eternal life.

         Of all the wonderful things Christ did for us, this one is best: He built a bridge between people and God. Sin washed out the bridge long ago, but when the crucified Jesus said, "It is finished!" the eternal bridge was built. Sin was overcome and people had a way back to God. Jesus did it all, and He asks only that we set aside our human pride and Trust Him as the only true way to God. The Bible says, "There is one mediator between God and man, the man Jesus Christ." (1 Timothy 2:5) Jesus is the Savior and that's that!

         Trouble is, most folks don't believe it. Jesus to them is an interesting man, but not one to trust your life to. They go along in life, not realizing the danger that's ahead.

         This reminds me of a true story about 30+ years ago about a bridge that washed out in the state of Ohio. It was a terribly stormy night, with wind, massive lightening and blinding rain. As one man drove his car over a familiar bridge, his car drove into nothingness, and plunged into the river. Somehow he got out of his car and onto a small island from where he could see through the lightening car after car plunge into the raging river. Before a trucker was able to jack-knife his rig and stop all traffic, a dozen and a half cars plunged into the deep and many lives were lost. The man watching them said he shouted and waved his arms, but no one heard him in the dark and noise of the storm.

         Dear friends, there are millions of people tonight driving their lives into the raging river of eternal death. They think they're safe with their beliefs and actions, but don't realize the bridge is out. They blithely move along in life, and suddenly they go over the edge and are lost. Only Jesus can save them from the storms of destruction. You and I must ever keep vigilant and avoid the washed out bridges of secularism and agnosticism. We must ever watch to get on and to stay on the road of righteousness through faith in Jesus Christ.

         Speaking of bad weather, that was quite a snowstorm we had - again. A pastor friend of mine from Minnesota Emailed me and jokingly said we were getting this bad weather as a punishment for sin, and that we should repent of whatever we Colorado Lutherans are guilty of. I responded that this weather was actually a blessing because we have a "Preferred Christian" card. We applied for this card through a wealthy widow from Nigeria who promised us hundreds of thousands of dollars to help us endure such trials if we just send her our bank account numbers. This "Christian" widow guaranteed the card was real and would even also earn us flight miles. She said we can even use them to make Sunday offerings if we just send her our church's bank account number. I told my friend that my Christmas gift to him was his own "Preferred Christian" a card, because I sent her his bank account number, too. I plan to get those wonderful cards for all my friends this year who, like him, keep telling me to get rid of my Macintosh and get a PC.

         In Christ Jesus, we are all preferred Christians. Through Jesus we all have favor with God, and He doesn't need our bank account numbers to do it. Jesus has our number already. He already knows what we need, and is only too happy to bless us, with faith and through faith. The story of Christmas is a joy no matter what time of year. It's like that great story by Paul Harvey, the story of the man and the birds. I'd like to conclude this, my last Christmas sermon, with his words.

         This is about a modern man, one of us. He was not a Scrooge, but a kind, decent man. He was generous to his family, and upright in his dealings with other men. And now he was looking forward to another Christmas season. However, he did not believe in what he termed "all that incarnation stuff."
         "It just does not make sense," he said in his mind, too honest to pretend otherwise. He just could not swallow "that Jesus Story," the one about God coming to earth as a man. On Christmas Eve, he told his wife, "I hate to disappoint you, but I just cannot go to church with you tonight." He said he would feel like a hypocrite, that he had much rather stay home, but that he would wait up for them. So he stayed at home and his family went to church.
         "Shortly after the family drove away, snow began to fall. He went to the window to watch the flurries getting heavier and heavier; he then went back to his fireside chair and began to read the newspaper. Minutes later, he was startled by a thudding sound, then another and another.
         "At first he thought someone must be throwing snowballs against the living room window, but when he went to the door to investigate, he found a flock of birds floundering miserably in the snow. They had been caught in the storm and in a desperate search for shelter, had tried to fly through his large picture window. Well, he could not let the poor creatures lie there and freeze. Then he remembered the barn where his children kept their pony. That would provide a warm shelter if he could direct the birds to it. So he quickly put on a coat and boots, and tramped through the snow to the barn.
         "Once there he opened the doors wide, and turned on a light, but the birds only ignored it. They would not come in. He figured food would entice them in, so he hurried back to the house, fetched bread crumbs, and sprinkled them on the snow making a trail to the yellow lighted doorway of the stable. But to his dismay, the birds ignored the crumbs.
         "They just continued to flop around helplessly in the snow. He tried catching them, he tried shooing them into the barn and waving his arms. Instead, they scattered in every direction, except into the warm, lighted barn.
         "Suddenly, he realized they were afraid of him. "To them I'm a strange and terrifying creature," he thought. "If only I could think of some way to let them know they can trust me, so they'd understand that I'm not trying to hurt them, but to help them." But how? Any move he made scared and confused them, for they just would not follow. They could not be lead or shooed because they feared him.
         "If only I could be a bird myself," he thought. "If only I could be a bird and mingle with them and speak their language. And tell them not to be afraid and show them the way to the warm and safe barn. But, I'd have to be one of them, so they could see and hear and understand." Just then, church bells began to ring. The bells rang so loudly that he heard them that cold night. And listening to the bells pealing their glad tidings of Christmas, and remembering the story of Christmas, how the baby Jesus born to the Virgin Mary, he suddenly understood why God became a man. And he sank to his knees right there in the snow.

         And now you know, "the rest of the story." MERRY CHRISTMAS, DEAR FRIENDS! Amen

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