“What Child Is This?”

2007 Christmas Eve Homily

Isaiah 9:2-7

I first preached this text during Advent of 1975. I wasn’t even ordained yet. I was but a lowly Presbyterian seminarian who was spending a year as an intern in a great big, historic United Methodist Church located in the heart of Richmond, VA’s business district. I was, to say the least, a bit overwhelmed.

What wise word of Scriptural interpretation did I have to share with those folks? Not much. O, I had two solid years of seminary training behind me, during which I had the privilege of studying Isaiah 1-12 with John Bright, one of America’s most well known Old Testament scholars. That counted for something because Dr. Bright was a great teacher and I had taken to the prophetic literature of the Old Testament like a duck to water.

But I had no experience as a church pastor who preached on a weekly basis. What could I give those folks that wasn’t totally academically related? Not much. But then providence happened. It came in the form of a Christmas card that said of Jesus, “They expected a general – they were given a child. They expected a coronation – and were given a star. They expected victory – they were given love.”

I ended up preaching a sermon titled “Great Expectations,” and I ended it with these words about the children of Israel’s messianic expectations: “Their sin was not that they expected too much. Their problem was that their ’Great Expectations’ were too small.” Their grand expectations of who and what the Messiah would be were limited to earthly models of kingship and empires. They weren’t ready for God himself to be born among them, incarnate as the infant Jesus. They expected a savior – little “s.” They didn’t know what to do with a Savior – capital “S.”

Question: What are our expectations? After we finish singing “What Child Is This?” are we still asking ourselves “what child is this?” Maybe the song’s refrain gives us our answer: “This, this is Christ the King, Whom Shepherds guard and angels sing: This, this is Christ the King, The Babe, the Son of Mary.” OK, but do we still wonder who this baby, this son of Mary, is?

The song mentions angels singing and shepherds keeping watch. The angel thing sounds pretty powerful. This kid must have really been something. But shepherds? Shepherds were about as low as one could be on Bethlehem’s totem pole. They were the bottom of the bottom class: stinky, slinky, lowlifes. Where did that leave this little baby on the social register? It sure wasn’t the kind of thing you want on your resume.

Even the song has some questions: “Why lies He in such mean estate? Where ox and ass are feeding?” Kings aren’t born in stables. Their cribs aren’t mangers, just a fancy word for a feed trough. And what’s all this about a silent Word pleading for sinners? And a King who brings salvation? It’s very confusing.

Maybe we need to look in the Bible for some clues as to just who this baby was and is. John’s Gospel tells us that he was the living Word of God; in other words, God himself. And this eternal Word – God – became flesh and dwelt among us. This baby was a human being who was also God. He came to live with us, the literal Greek meaning something more or less like he came and pitched his tent in our camp. He came to mingle with us – all of us, even dirty, stinky shepherds and other such riff-raff.

And then there’s Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, chapter two, beginning with verse five: “… who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness.” There’s that Word-became-flesh thing again. Then it gets downright confusing.

And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.” So, God in human form – King of Kings and Lord of Lords according to Isaiah – took on the role of a slave, placing himself even lower on the social register than the shepherds. And then he died on a cross, executed like a common criminal.

OK, that fits pretty well with another prophecy in Isaiah, the one in chapter fifty-three about a suffering servant who takes upon himself the punishment for our sins. But when do we get to all that Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace stuff the children of Israel expected?

Let’s take another look at Philippians: “Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name above every name, so that at the name of Jesus (you know, little baby Jesus born in a stable) every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

So that’s who this child is – Jesus. The whole living among us, dying on a cross in our place, and being raised from the dead was phase one of this Messiah business. He died, but he was raised. He was humiliated, but now his name is exalted over every other name. He was a Servant-King who, in emptying himself, becoming a slave, and dying on a cross became a Savior – excuse me, THE SAVIOR.

Because he died we can live. Because he suffered hell we can know heaven. Because he came we can be sure that he will come again to bring God’s Kingdom into its full glory. Then he will be King of Kings and Lord of Lords the way Isaiah foretold it. That’s when he’ll be revealed as Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace. “His authority shall grow continuously, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom. He will establish and uphold it with justice and righteousness from [that] time onward and evermore.”

What child is this? Not what was expected, but a whole lot more. Not the Messiah people wanted, but the Savior everybody needs. They expected a general – they were given a child, and O how wonderful it is that they were. Amen.