Christmas Eve

Every year at Christmas we take an impact gift, and this year for the first time ever we set a goal. Normally we simply pick a project and trust God to move the hearts of His people. This time we aimed at a specific figure to support our missionaries overseas.

Their plan was to reach two thousand people — a small gift for each, costing around $2.50, plus a meal at another dollar. Roughly $3.50 a head. So we set our target accordingly.

Then this past week we heard they had been going out to the villages. They had not even reached all fifteen they had planned — only about twelve — and they had already served over 2,500 people. I thought, that is wonderful, but our funds only cover two thousand.

And then you moved. We sent them well beyond our goal.

So to every one of you who gave — whether you could manage $3.50 and bless one person, or far more and bless hundreds — thank you. Many of the people coming to these events are firm in another faith and yet feel genuinely lost and confused. They are hearing about Jesus for the very first time. For some of them, it is the first time they have heard about hope.

Decked Out

Our Advent series has been called Christmas Clothes, and it has been a delight to greet people tonight. Most Sunday mornings we are a fairly informal church, so I rarely see you all dressed like this. It is as though you knew tonight’s sermon was titled “Decked Out” — some of you genuinely are.

Through this series we have been going into the Bible, mostly Genesis, looking at stories that involve clothing — and seeing how that clothing points to a deeper spiritual reality, something that happens to us when we put our faith in Jesus. Tonight we do the same thing, but from the Christmas story.

I am fairly sure most of you know which clothing appears in it. Kids, I know you are on Christmas break, but here is your test — fill in the blank:

And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in ______, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. — Luke 2:7 (ESV)

You knew it. Swaddling cloths.

What Swaddling Cloths Actually Were

In Jesus’ day, midwives took plain strips of cloth and, once the baby was born and cleaned, wrapped them up. Not one large blanket — strip after strip after strip.

There were reasons for it. The baby had just come out of the womb into a world that must feel utterly overwhelming, and being wrapped snugly made it feel safer. It also kept the child warm, coming from the warmth of the womb into the cold.

And I learned something interesting this week: the ancient Jews would straighten the baby’s legs and lay the arms down at the sides before wrapping, believing it helped the child grow properly. They did not think a baby should stay curled up.

Which means the infant Jesus probably looked rather like a small mummy — wrapped up tight, and if He had tried to walk, something like a penguin.

Now let me ask: was there anything special about those strips of cloth?

No. Nothing whatsoever. This is what most babies wore. Ordinary first clothes.

And yet they are famous. Two thousand years later I can put a fill-in-the-blank test to a room full of children and they know the answer.

A Very Expensive Dress

Imagine you are invited to a formal gala and told to wear a black dress. So you go shopping, and you settle on one particular dress. How much would you be willing to pay for it? Fifty dollars? A hundred? A thousand?

That dress sold at auction in 2013 for around $360,000.

I would have to sell my house, both cars, my rather pathetic baseball card collection and one of my kidneys to afford it. Sorry, dear — it is not going to be yours.

Why so much? Because Princess Diana wore it in 1985. President Ronald Reagan and his wife Nancy hosted a gala attended by Prince Charles and Diana, and after dinner there was a formal dance. Diana was gracious enough to dance with the President — and, from the photographs, with several famous figures of the day, including Tom Selleck of Magnum, P.I. and Clint Eastwood.

But the most memorable dance of the night was with John Travolta. So memorable, in fact, that the dress was renamed after him.

I am sure a notable designer made it. I am sure the finest materials went into it, and that when it was purchased in 1985 it already cost a considerable sum. But it did not cost $360,000. And if the most wonderful woman in your life put on that same dress, looked absolutely stunning, and then sent it to auction — it would not fetch $360,000 either.

It went for that amount because a famous princess wore it at a famous event and danced with a famous man. Its value comes from who wore it.

Worth More Than Life Itself

The swaddling cloths wrapped around Jesus were just cloths. And if they went up for auction today, they would be worth millions upon billions upon trillions. Nobody could afford them.

Because those simple little strips wrapped the King of the universe. God incarnate. The one named Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

The meekest of clothing became worth more than life itself.

And that baby grew into a man who died on a cross, rose again from the dead, and now offers humanity spiritual clothes worth more than life itself.

Two Chapters Later

Two chapters after the Christmas story, in Luke 4, Jesus is an adult. He walks into the synagogue in His hometown of Nazareth — somewhere He has been many times — and on this occasion He is handed the scroll to read.

He reads from Isaiah 61, just the opening lines:

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound… to comfort all who mourn. — Isaiah 61:1–2 (ESV)

Then He rolls up the scroll, sets it aside, looks at the room with every eye on Him, and says: this has now been fulfilled in your hearing.

Words written by Isaiah some six hundred years earlier — and He is telling them He is fulfilling them. He is the one the Spirit of the Lord has come upon. He is the one anointed to bring good news to the poor. He is the one sent to bind up the brokenhearted. He is the one bringing liberty to those held captive by their sin.

Jesus is the Messiah. The baby who came to save. It is why He is called Immanuel — God with us. It is why the angel told Joseph to name Him Jesus, because the name means God saves.

This is why we celebrate Christmas. Not merely a holiday for family. Not an excuse for good food. Not simply a day for exchanging presents. This is about God the Son setting aside His godness to take on human flesh — for you.

What Isaiah Wrote Next

I think Isaiah, led by God’s Spirit, got genuinely excited writing this. He is catching a glimpse from six hundred years away of the Messiah who is coming — the one the Spirit will rest upon, the one who will free the captives.

And in that excitement he writes verse 10:

I will greatly rejoice in the Lord; my soul shall exult in my God, for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation; he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself like a priest with a beautiful headdress, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels. — Isaiah 61:10 (ESV)

Notice where he lands: a wedding. A bride and a bridegroom.

I like weddings, which apparently makes me a strange pastor. I have spoken with many who say they dislike weddings and prefer funerals, on the grounds that people complain at weddings and nobody complains at a funeral. I am the opposite.

It is an honour to stand on that platform in front of a bride and groom. And one of the things I enjoy most is seeing the two of them decked out.

At an American wedding, notice that nobody else wears white. The bridesmaids wear lovely dresses, hair done, makeup done — but no white, because that belongs to the bride, so she stands out. And even where the groomsmen wear similar suits to the groom, something usually distinguishes him. Because they have a unique role on a beautiful, singular day. So they wear their best.

You Are Decked Out

Isaiah is saying that if you follow Jesus — if you recognize that the Spirit of God came upon this Messiah, that He came to free you from captivity to your sin, and you have put your faith in that story — then you are like the bride adorned with the finest jewels. You are like the bridegroom in the finest threads.

Because you have been clothed with the garments of salvation. You have been covered with the robe of righteousness.

You may really like the sweater you are wearing tonight. You may feel lovely in your Christmas dress, or handsome in that tie. Tomorrow you may unwrap something new you are genuinely excited about.

But nothing — not even a dress worn by a princess — compares to the spiritual clothing God’s people are given. If you are in Christ, these are your clothes, and nothing compares.

So by all means, enjoy tonight and tomorrow with your family. I know it can sometimes be hard and awkward, and I hope it is genuinely beautiful. I hope the food is excellent. I hope you get to honour someone with a meaningful gift. I hope you get that moment of unwrapping something and realizing how much you are loved.

But however good — or however disappointing — any of that turns out to be, at the deepest core of who you are, if your faith is in Jesus, you are decked out like no one else.

And If This Isn’t You Yet

Maybe you are here and you do not follow Jesus. The whole story seems strange, even bizarre. That’s for my family. That’s for those people. I don’t want to be odd for God.

Tonight God says it is for you. He is inviting you.

He does not want you held captive to anything in this world — He wants to set you free. He does not want you in spiritual poverty — He wants to enrich you with Himself. He does not want you to be a spiritual orphan — He wants you adopted by your heavenly Father.

He came for you. And He wants you to take your ragged robes and exchange them for the garments of salvation.

And there are many who have heard all of this before — who know God is out there, who may well believe His Son came to this earth, who know the Christmas story and the Easter story. But if they are honest with themselves, they have never let it become the core of their identity. It has been a side thing. They are still living for themselves, still wearing their own clothing, covered more by themselves than by Christ — and His cloak stays hanging in the closet.

My prayer is that you would have the courage to walk to that closet, take the robe of righteousness, and let it be put on you. Let that become your identity. Let that be who you fully are — not enticed by a world offering you something else, but letting Him define you.

Because He loves you deeply, and He wants to do great things through you.

He did not come merely to be a good example, or to show us a better way. He came to give us life. He came to give us the Father. He came to give us Himself. And through a cross, and through the power to walk out of a grave alive, He gives us robes of righteousness.

So as we sing and proclaim this Christmas, we are only echoing what the angels already announced: that Jesus, the Prince of Peace, has come into this world — and this goodwill has come to all mankind, including us.