There's been a lot of talk about a baby and a manger here lately. This morning as the pastor talked about that baby named Jesus lying in a manger, for some reason I couldn't escape that man named Jesus who died on the ultimate Christmas tree - the cross.
But before I get to that, it seems there was a lot of commotion when Jesus was born. Angels singing. Shepherds worshiping. Throw in their sheep and other livestock and I imagine the noise level increases a great deal. Who knows what else added to the cacophony. Safe to say it wasn't a silent night.
Fast forward thirty or so years. Jesus is heading into Jerusalem, about to make his triumphal entry on a humble donkey (check out Luke 19:28-44 for the full details). Lots of noise here, too.
As he went along, people spread their cloaks on the road.
When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen:
“Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”
Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!”
“I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”
So He makes his triumphal entry. The people are going wild and Jesus says he won't silence them. He won't stop them because even if he does - and he could - the rocks would cry out.
Fast forward again to that moment when he's hanging on the ultimate Christmas tree. He has cried out to God, asking why he has been forsaken. A darkness has fallen over the land. And I can't help but wonder if the people have gone silent. Because you know what happens when Jesus finally takes his last breath?
"At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split..." (Matthew 27:51)
The rocks cried out. In that moment, they could no longer be quiet, even when the people were. Even when those who had sworn they would never leave him, they would follow him always - even when they grew silent - the stones cried out.
Because there is a God in heaven who will be revered one way or another, whether I choose to worship him or not. Whether you choose to worship him or not. He will be worshiped. He will not be denied what is due Him.
From the manger to the cross - and everything in between - it is about a God who is sovereign, a God who has said even if you keep quiet, my creation will cry out.
Yes, Christmas is about a baby in a manger who was born to set us free from death and sin. Yes, Christmas is about angels proclaiming to a fallen world to not be afraid. Yes, Christmas is about an unlikely man and woman being called to be the father and mother of a baby boy named Emanuel. But that baby boy is no good if he remains there, if he remains in that manger, where a few wise men would come from afar to worship him. I don't need just a baby in a manger. I need a Savior on a cross whose blood was shed for me. A Savior who would be buried and rise again in three days. I need a Savior that demands that the rocks cry out.
Even when I don't.
Not that that should ever be a justification for my silence, that simply because there will be others who will speak forth the good news, I shouldn't have to. No. But it is a firm reminder that I have been given a choice - quiet and stillness or noise and proclamation. He will be heard one way or another. But wouldn't I rather be the one proclaiming? Wouldn't I rather be the one that has the privilege of speaking forth the ultimate Christmas story, a story not only of a baby in a manger, but a man on a cross who was laid in a tomb, rose again, and now sits at the right hand of his Father?
Yes, the rocks will cry out - even if I am silent.
But God, help me to not be silent.
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